The Breaking of the Storm Volume Iii Part 32

It seemed insanity. They had seen how the young man had battled--but the old one! He threw off coat and waistcoat. He might be an old man--but he was still a strong man, with a broad powerful chest.

"If you feel that you can't keep up, General, give us a signal in good time," said the Mayor.

And now there happened what, to the people who in this one hour had seen such strange and terrible horrors, seemed a miracle. The blazing willow-stumps, which were burning now from the roots to the stiff branches, threw a light almost like day over the bank, the crowd, the stream, and the summer-house opposite--far into the flooded park up to the castle, whose windows here and there gave back a crimson reflection of the flames.

And in this light, floating down the narrow stream, on whose gra.s.sy bed the village children were wont to play, down the foaming current which had just now whirled along the branching pine-tree, like a sea-monster stretching out a hundred feelers for its prey, there came a slender well-built boat, that had just landed a strange cargo at the back entrance of the castle, as if at a quay. They had heard there how matters stood, and the man sitting at the helm had said: "My men, she is my betrothed!" And the six others, had shouted, "Hurrah for the Captain! and hurrah for his betrothed!" And now they shot past with lowered mast, and the crew holding their oars erect, as if they were bringing the Admiral on sh.o.r.e in his own boat. And the flag fluttered behind the man who sat at the helm, and with a light touch of his strong hand guided the willing vessel through the eddying foam to the goal which the clear keen eyes held fast, as the eagle his prey, however wildly the brave heart might beat against his bosom.

So they shot past--past the crowd who gazed breathlessly at the miracle, past the summer-house, but only a few yards. Then the man at the helm turned the boat suddenly like an eagle in its flight; and the six men took to their oars, at one stroke--and "Hurrah! hurrah!

hurrah!"--the oars were withdrawn again, and the boat lay alongside the balcony, over which and over the boat an immense wave reared its foaming crest towards the bank, and there breaking threw its spray up into the burning trees, covering the breathless lookers-on with a cloud of moisture.

And as the cloud dispersed, they saw in the dim light of the decaying fire that the summer-house was gone, and there was only left a shadowy boat that vanished into the darkness.

They drew a long breath then, as if from a single oppressed spirit relieved from a weight of fear. And "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" resounded as if from a single throat, rising above even the howling storm.

The boat might disappear in the darkness, but they knew that the man sitting at the helm knew what he was about, and the six men who were with him knew what they were about; and it would return in safety, carrying the rescued from storm and flood.

CHAPTER XV.

The setting sun no longer stood high above the hills. In the magic glow were s.h.i.+ning the calm pools of water which covered the immense semicircle between the Golmberg and Wissow Head. The slanting golden rays shone dazzlingly in Reinhold's eyes, as he steered his boat from the lake into the broad gulf close by the White Dune, against whose steep sides the long incoming waves were was.h.i.+ng, while the boat glided over its broad surface, and the blades of the oars as they rose and sank in regular cadence almost touched the edge.

The eyes of the rowers were turned towards the dune as they glided by, while the scene of deliverance on the night of the storm must have recurred to every man's memory, but no one spoke a word. Not because it would have been a breach of discipline. They knew that the Captain would always allow talk that was to the purpose at the right time, even when as to-day he was in full uniform, with the Iron Cross on his broad breast; but he had pulled his c.o.c.ked hat low down upon his forehead, and if he occasionally raised his eyes to see the course he was steering, they did not look gloomy--they had never seen him look gloomy yet, any more than they had ever heard a bad word from his mouth--but very grave and sad. They would not disturb the Captain's meditations.

Grave and sad meditations--graver and sadder than the honest fellows could imagine or comprehend.

What to them were the two people whom they had rescued from death on this sand-hill, with untold efforts and at the repeated risk of their own lives; what were they to them but a couple more fellow-creatures, saved as a matter of duty, and added to the others whom they had already saved that day? As to how Count Golm and the young lady had got there, and the relation in which they stood to each other--what did they care about that? But he!

He had shuddered when he found the brilliant Carla von Wallbach, whom he had seen a few days before flirting and coquetting in the light of the chandeliers, in the drawing-room at Warnow--now cowering on the storm-beaten dune, a picture of utter misery, her clothes soaked through with wet, her tender limbs shaken by icy cold, half out of her senses with terror, and hardly resembling a human creature; as he carried her to the boat, and at the moment when he laid her down, she woke from her stupor, and recognising him, shrieked wildly: "Save me from him! Save me!" and clung terrified to him--a stranger--as a child might cling to his mother, so that he had to use force to free himself!

The Count was in a hardly less pitiable condition, when two of the men carried him into the boat and laid him down near Carla; but then he suddenly started up, and at the risk of falling overboard staggered to the bow of the boat, and there sat lost in gloomy meditation, taking no notice of anything that pa.s.sed, till they had worked their way to the Politz's farm, and prepared to take the poor wretches there into the boat through the window of the attic in which they had taken refuge.

Then he had sprung to his feet, and shrieked like a madman that he would not be packed in together with those people! he would not! and had laid violent hands on the men, till he was cowed by the threat that they would tie his hands if he did not implicitly obey the Captain's orders; and then, covering his face with his hands, he had devoured his wrath in silence.

There was the attic, there was the window opening--they had been obliged to tear out the window and knock down a bit of the wall to make room. It seemed to Reinhold himself almost a miracle that he had been successful, that he had been able to save the poor creatures from this abyss of misery, and carry the most fragile human blossom through night and storm and darkness to the safe harbour of the castle where all danger was over.

The pa.s.sage from the submerged farm to the castle had only lasted a few minutes--the gale had driven the boat before it like a feather--but this was the only time when even his heart had trembled, not with fear, but with tender care. His eyes grew wet as he recalled the memory now of the mother as she lay in the boat, her little one in her bosom, her head on her husband's knee, while poor Marie, full of compa.s.sion, supported in her arms the senseless Carla. What would the wretched man in the bow of the boat have thought of this sight if he ever raised his eyes? When they laid the boat alongside the back entrance of the castle, he sprang out and rushed away in furious haste, to hide himself anywhere in the darkness--like Cain fleeing from the body of his murdered brother.

And sadder and sadder grew Reinhold's thoughts. He had succeeded even in his highest hopes--he had rescued his beloved from certain death, and with her the unhappy woman who loved them both as if they had been her children, and whom they both loved and honoured as a mother. So far was all the deepest happiness; and yet! and yet!

How dearly had that happiness been bought! Could it be happiness that cost so high a price? Was there still left any happiness on earth, when sorrow in pitiless shape lay so close at hand--even as the purple shadows yonder between the battlements and projections of the castle lay close against the patches of sunlight? Did not the most apparently firm ground quake, just as the waves here were dancing over the field where the countryman used to drive his plough, over the meadow where the shepherd had tended his flock? Must they needs die--so young, so beautiful, so richly dowered with the n.o.blest gifts and qualities? And if they must die, since they could no longer--would no longer live, since death was to them only a deliverance from inextricable entanglements--what a doubtful good seemed life which brought with it even the possibility of so terrible a fate! How could the two fathers bear it? n.o.bly, no doubt. And yet! and yet!

They rowed round the castle and the park, and drew near the sh.o.r.e at the spot where the willows had been burnt that night, and where the blackened stumps still rose above the bank. Several large and small boats lay there already from Ahlbeck, and even from villages farther distant along the coast. From all parts--from miles around--they had come, for everywhere for miles around had the story been repeated from mouth to mouth, with many variations, yet always the same--the touching story of the youth who loved a maiden; of how the two had fled from home, but could find no happiness or peace; and now both were dead, and were to be buried to-day.

Reinhold turned his steps from the sh.o.r.e to the village. The President had written to him that he should be at Warnow at the appointed time, and wished to speak to him before he met the family. He knew the worthy man's punctuality; and, indeed, he had hardly reached the open s.p.a.ce in front of the inn, where a whole army of vehicles was already a.s.sembled, before a carriage drove up, from which the President alighted, and the moment he saw him came towards him with extended hand.

An expression of almost fatherly goodwill lay in his silent greeting; for the good man was too much moved to be able to speak at once, until, after walking a few steps side by side, he began, with a melancholy smile:

"Prophets both of us! Yes, my dear young friend; and what would we not give to have been found false prophets, and that our storm-floods had never come! But here they are, however. Yours, thank G.o.d, has quickly exhausted its fury; mine--G.o.d help us!--must rage for a long time yet.

I wish such another valiant St. George might arise there too, to fight the dragon so boldly and save the poor victims! I am proud of you, my dear friend; there can be few people who rejoice so heartily in the gallant deeds which, by G.o.d's good help, you have performed. To have saved so many human lives--even if your betrothed had not been of the number--how happy you must be! It will not add to your happiness--I mean it will not increase the joy with which your heart must be full--but it is right and proper that such good service should meet with its proper recognition in the eyes of the world. Neither has your former conduct, which roused so much ill-feeling at the time, been forgotten. Had your advice been followed, the unfortunate harbour works at least would never have been begun, and millions and millions would have been spared to our poor country, to say nothing of the damage done. The Minister thinks that such heads should not be left idle; he has telegraphed to me, in answer to my brief report of the events here, desiring me to offer you, in his Majesty's name, the medal and ribbon of the Order of Merit given for saving life, and to ask you, in his own name, whether you are disposed to enter his office in any capacity--as Naval Councillor, I imagine; but of that you would hear from himself personally; or possibly in the Admiralty Office--the two gentlemen seem inclined to dispute over you. I think I know your answer--you would like to remain here for the present--and I should most reluctantly lose you just now. But keep yourself disengaged for the future; you owe it to the public good and to yourself. Am I not right?"

"Perfectly so," said Reinhold; "it is my warmest wish and firm resolve to serve my king and country, by land or water, wherever or however I can. Any summons that comes to me will always find me ready; although, indeed, I do not deny that I should most reluctantly leave this place."

"I can believe that," said the President. "A man like you puts his whole soul into everything, and is absorbed by his duties, be they small or great; and you have proved that great things can be done in comparatively insignificant positions. But the matter has its social side too, which it would be false heroism to overlook. The thorough appreciation of your services in the highest places will be gratifying to your poor father-in-law, and he would feel himself, besides, terribly lonely in Berlin without his daughter near him."

"How kind you are!" said Reinhold, much touched. "How you have thought of everything!"

"Have I not!" said the President, responding warmly to the pressure of Reinhold's hand. "It is wonderful! But I have the honour of being a friend of the family; you yourself acknowledged me in that capacity, when, at the same time with the official report of the events of the flood, you sent me a private account of what had concerned yourself and the family to which you now belong. I feel myself honoured by your confidence; I need not say that it will all remain buried in heart. But you did right; in such complicated affairs it is better not to trust to oneself, but to make use of the experience and judgment of one's friends. And who could be better placed than I to give advice and a.s.sistance in this case? I have thought over everything already, and settled a good deal in my own mind, and have even taken some preliminary steps, which have met with the readiest concurrence on all sides. We will speak of this more at length when you come to see me at Sundin, which you must do shortly. For to-day, as I must return immediately after the funeral, I will only say this: I am certain that the estates of your aunt the Baroness may be saved, as both Golm and the Company are bankrupt, and must be satisfied with any reasonable conditions. I shall not offer them favourable ones, you may be sure!

These men, who have brought such untold misery upon thousands, deserve no mercy! Even so there will remain only the ruins of a magnificent property, for the princ.i.p.al part is lost for ever, I fear, with that terrible man Giraldi. Or do you not think so?"

"Indeed I do," said Reinhold. "I supposed so from the first; and the account given by the man who drove him, and whom I afterwards thoroughly questioned and examined, confirmed my supposition. The influx of the tide between Wissow Head and Faschwitz was so frightfully violent that the waters that first entered the so-formed gulf must have been emptied out by the succeeding waves as out of a basin, with everything that was floating in it. The water thus forced out would join the immense stream running westwards into the open sea between the mainland and the island, and if the corpse should ever, weeks hence, perhaps months hence, be carried to some distant sh.o.r.e----"

"It is a pity, a great pity," said the President; "such a magnificent property! According to my calculations, and the expressions used by that dreadful man in his last interview with the Baroness, not less than a million. How much good might have been done with it! And in your hands, too. But then it would be a terrible thing to come into such an inheritance. And the Baroness, too; are the dreadful details known to her?"

"She knows that Antonio was the murderer of my poor cousin; and she knows also that the two Italians met in their flight, and were drowned together. I hope the unutterable horror that the man's account reveals to us will remain for ever hidden from her."

"She does not believe in the son?"

"Not in the least! It is as if G.o.d in His mercy had blinded her usually quick eyes on this point. She takes the whole thing for an invention and sheer lie of Giraldi's. You may suppose that we strengthen her in this idea, and thank the fates on this ground at least for the darkness that has swallowed up what never ought to see the light of day."

"True, true!" said the President; "that is a comfort, certainly. The unhappy lady has suffered enough already. The fates have not been so merciful to your poor uncle. It is terrible to lose such a daughter--so beautiful and gifted--in such a way; but for a man such as your uncle from all I hear must be, so high-minded and upright, to be haunted by the vision of a son who is pursued whichever way he turns by warrants and detectives; for such sorrow as that I think no greatness of mind, no philosophy can be of any use; it is utterly horrible, without the least hope of consolation. Such grief cannot be alleviated by even time, which cures most troubles; death alone can bring relief; but the man will not let himself die."

"I do not know," said Reinhold; "he is one of a family who do not fear death. However differently in some points the poor man may see life, I can easily imagine that even to him the question may present itself in a form which he understands, and that he may then not hesitate for a moment in his decision."

The faintest glimmer of a sarcastic smile played round the President's delicately-cut lips; he was about to say, with some courteous periphrases, that he quite understood family pride, even when as in this case it clearly overshot the mark; but a loud shout from a rough voice close by them left him no time. The shouter was Herr von Strummin, who with Justus came so quickly down the lane which led from the High Street of the village to the parsonage, that Reinhold, who had already received notice of his friend's arrival early that morning, had no time to explain to the President the connection between the two men.

However, before Herr von Strummin had offered his hand to the President, he called out:

"Allow me the honour, President, to introduce my son-in-law--Herr Justus Anders--celebrated sculptor! Gold medallist, President! Came this morning from Berlin with my daughter, in company with your aunt, Captain Schmidt. Has already by desire of the Baroness taken the arrangements into his hands, cleared out the whole of the big ground-floor saloon; looks like the church at Strummin. Yes, my dear President, an artist you know; we must all give way to him. And now, only think, President, the clergyman cannot, or rather will not, say the last words over the grave! declines doing so at the last moment!

We--my son-in-law and I--have just come from him; he would not receive us--can't speak to anybody--can't speak at all! Conveniently hoa.r.s.e!

The parsonage of Golm, which the Count has promised him, sticks in his throat, I dare say! And it is a good mouthful--three thousand thalers a year, without the perquisites. But I should think the authorities would refuse their sanction; the toad-eating, hypocritical----"

"But, my dear Herr von Strummin!" said the President, looking round nervously.

"It is true enough!" cried Herr von Strummin; "the Count has forbidden him; the Count and he are always laying their heads together. My son-in-law----"

The two friends could not hear what Herr von Strummin, who at last, at the President's repeated request, moderated his loud voice, brought forward in further support of his views. They had dropped behind a little way, to clasp each other's hands again and again with tears in their eyes.

"Yesterday at the same hour we buried Cilli," said Justus.

"Ferdinanda's Pieta, which I will finish, is to adorn her grave, and to make known to the world what a treasure of goodness, and love, and mercy lies buried there; and I will erect a monument to the two here. I told Meta my idea for doing it on the way here; she says it will be splendid; but how gladly would I really break stones for the rest of my life, as my father-in-law used to say of me, if I could awake to life again the good, the beautiful, the brave.--Your naval uniform is wonderfully becoming, Reinhold! I ought to have taken your portrait so; we must repeat it some day; the large gold epaulettes are splendid for modelling. And that parson won't read the funeral oration because the General and Uncle Ernst have determined that the two shall rest in one grave! He implored the General to alter the arrangement; they had not even been publicly betrothed! only think! But the General stood firm, and has asked your uncle to say a few words. Even that the parson won't have; but the two old gentlemen will not give in; they hold together like brothers. A telegram came just now for your uncle; I was with him when he opened it, and saw how he started; I am certain it has something to do with that unfortunate Philip, he has been arrested probably. It is terrible that your uncle must have that to bear too, on such a day as this; but he has said nothing to any one excepting the General. I saw them go aside together, and he showed him the telegram, and then they talked together for some time, and at last shook hands.

Uncle Ernst, who had vowed that the hand which pressed the General's should wither! And to-day he has asked me half-a-dozen times if I believe that Ottomar's brother officers, who are expected, will really come--we have made the funeral so late on their account--it would be too sad for the General if they stayed away! As if he had no sorrows himself! He is really heroic! But your Elsa is admirable too. She loved, her brother dearly, but how quietly she moves and speaks now, and arranges everything, and has a willing ear and a kindly word for every one. 'I could not do that, you know,' says Meta; 'there is only one Elsa, you know.' Of course I know it! But there is only one Meta too; don't you think so?"

"My dear son-in-law!" cried Herr von Strummin, looking back.

"He has called me that at least a hundred times already to-day!" said Justus with a sigh, as he hastened on, lengthening his short steps.

They had reached the upper end of the deep narrow cutting, and saw the castle now immediately in front of them. It was a strange sight to the President, who had formerly known the place well, and whom Reinhold now led a few steps forward to the precipitous edge of the bank. For the stream had so washed and torn away the soil that here and there the bank positively overhung, and Reinhold could no longer find and show to the President the spot where the pine-tree had stood, whose fall had been fatal to Ottomar. Below them, between the steep bank and the castle, the stream still ran, no longer with the foaming waves and roaring whirlpools of that night of terror, but in calm transparent ripples, which met and joined together to form fresh ripples that plashed against the keels of the five large boats on which had been laid the temporary bridge that connected the head of the gorge with the old stone gateway of the castle yard. The battlements of the gateway and the great s.h.i.+eld above, bearing the Warnow arms, shone in the evening light, as did the round tower of the castle and the higher roofs and gables, down to the sharply-cut line of the blue shadow thrown by the hillside over the receding portion of the building. And farther on to the right shone the tops of the trees in the flooded park, and beyond castle and park the still water which filled the whole immense bay, and seemed to flow without interruption towards the open sea. Under the brilliant slanting rays of the sun, the few points of the dunes still above water vanished even from Reinhold's sharp eyes; he could hardly distinguish the roofs of the Politz's farm, and here and there on the wide expanse the branches of a willow which formerly stood by the side of a ditch.

The President stood lost in thought; he seemed to have forgotten even Reinhold's presence.