Under a Charm Volume I Part 8

The boat containing Waldemar and the young Countess Morynska sailed merrily before the breeze. The sea was rather rough on that day, and the waves broke foaming against the keel of the little vessel as she shot through them, das.h.i.+ng their spray overboard every now and then, a fact which in no way disturbed the two occupants. Waldemar sat at the helm, with the calm of an experienced steersman; and Wanda, who had placed herself opposite him under the shadow of the sail, seemed to find great enjoyment in the quick, bounding motion of the little craft, and in their rapid onward progress.

"Leo will go and complain of us to my aunt," said she, looking back towards the coast, which they had already left at some distance behind them. "He went away in a great rage, and you _were_ very unkind to him, Waldemar."

"I don't like any one else to take the rudder when I am in the boat,"

he answered, in a curt, authoritative tone.

"And suppose I wanted to have it?" asked Wanda, mischievously.

He made no reply, but stood up at once, and silently offered her his place.

The young Countess laughed.

"Oh no. It was only to see what you would say. There is no pleasure for me in the sail when I have to think of steering all the while."

Without a word, Waldemar again grasped the rudder which had been the nominal subject of dispute between him and Leo, though the real cause of their quarrel lay elsewhere.

"Where are we going?" Wanda began again, after a short pause.

"To the Beech Holm, I think. That was what we had settled."

"Won't it be rather far for to-day?" asked the girl, a little anxiously.

"With the wind in our favour we shall be there in half an hour, and if I work the oars well it will not take us much longer to get back. You wanted to see the sunset from the Beech Holm, you know."

Wanda resisted no further, though a vague feeling of uneasiness came over her. Heretofore Leo had been the constant companion of the young people in their excursions by sea and land; this was the first time they had been out alone together. Young as Wanda was, she would have been no woman not to discover, before Waldemar's second visit was over, what had made him so shy and confused on the first. He was incapable of dissimulation, and his eyes spoke a language all too plain, though he had as yet betrayed himself by no word. He was still more reserved and monosyllabic with Wanda than with the others; but, notwithstanding this, she knew her power over him well enough--knew how to use, and occasionally to misuse it; for to her the whole thing was a sport, and nothing more. It pleased her that she could rule this obstinate, masterful nature with a word, nay, even with a look; it flattered her to feel herself the object of a certainly somewhat mute and eccentric, but yet pa.s.sionate homage; above all, it delighted her to see how angry Leo grew over the matter. Really to give the preference to his elder brother never once entered her mind. Waldemar's person and manners were to the last degree distasteful to her. She thought his appearance 'horrid;' his lack of courtesy shocked, and his conversation wearied her. Love had not made young Nordeck more amiable. He showed her none of those chivalrous attentions in which Leo, in spite of his youth, was already an adept. He seemed, on the contrary, to yield with reluctance to a charm from which he was unable to escape; yet everything in him bore witness to the irresistible power which this first pa.s.sion had gained over him.

The Beech Holm must probably one day have been a little islet, as its name would indicate; now it was only a thickly wooded hill, joined to the sh.o.r.e by a narrow strip of land, or rather by a little chain of sandy downs, whereby access could be had to it on foot. Notwithstanding its beauty, the place was but little frequented. It was too secluded and too distant for the brilliant, gaiety-loving visitors of C----, whose excursions were generally made to some of the neighbouring villages along the coast. To-day, as usual, there was no one on the Holm when the boat came to land. Waldemar jumped out, whilst his companion, without waiting for help, sprang lightly on to the white sand, and ran off up the hill.

The Beech Holm well deserved its name. The whole wood, which lined the sh.o.r.e for nearly a mile, showed nowhere so many or such fine trees of this species as were gathered together on this spot of earth. Here mighty old beeches stood, spreading their giant branches far over the green turf, and over the grey, weather-beaten fragments of stone which lay scattered here and there, the relics of heathen times--tradition said of some ancient place of sacrifice. At the landing-place the trees stood back on either side, and the broad, beautiful sea lay as in a frame, its deep-blue plain stretching away far as the eye could reach.

No sh.o.r.e, no island obstructed the view, no sail rose on the horizon, nothing but the sea in all its grandeur, and the Beech Holm, lying there so solitary and world-forgotten, it might really have been a little islet lost in mid-ocean.

Wanda had taken off her straw hat with its plain black ribbon, and sat down on one of the moss-grown stones. She still wore half-mourning for the late Prince Baratowski. Her white dress was only relieved by a black knot here and there, and a little black scarf was thrown round her shoulders. This sombre hue on her white garments gave to the girl's appearance a subdued and softened tinge which was not habitual to it.

She looked infinitely charming as she sat thus with folded hands, gazing meditatively out over the sea.

Waldemar, who had taken a seat by her side on the enormous root of an old beech, seemed to be of this opinion, for he entertained himself exclusively with looking at her. For him the scenery around existed not. He started as from a dream when Wanda, pointing to her stone seat, said jestingly--"I suppose this is one of your old Runic stones?"

Waldemar shrugged his shoulders. "You must ask my tutor, Dr. Fabian, about that. He is more at home in the first century of our era than in the present. He would give you a learned and lengthy dissertation on Runic stones, dolmens, tumuli, and the like. It would afford him the greatest pleasure."

"Oh no; for goodness' sake!" laughed Wanda; "but, if Dr. Fabian has such an enthusiastic love for antiquity, I wonder he has not instilled a taste for it into you. It seems to me you are quite indifferent on the subject."

The young man's face took a most disdainful expression. "What do I care for all their antiquarian nonsense? The woods and fields interest me for the sport they can give me."

"How prosaic!" cried Wanda, indignantly. "So all your thoughts run on your sport! I dare say here on the Beech Holm you are thinking of the bucks and hares which may be hidden in the coverts."

"No," said Waldemar, slowly. "I am not."

"It would be unpardonable with such a prospect before you. Just look at the evening glow out yonder! The waves seem literally to beam with light."

Waldemar followed the direction of her hand with indifferent eyes.

"Yes; that is where they say Vineta went down."

"What went down?"

"Have not you heard? It is an old sea legend. I thought you knew it."

"No; tell me."

"I am a poor story-teller," said Waldemar, deprecatingly. "Ask our fisher-folk about it. That old boatman yonder would give you a far better and more complete account of it than I can."

"But I want to hear it from you," persisted Wanda. "I _will_; so go on."

A frown gathered on Waldemar's brow. The command had been too imperative.

"You will?" he repeated, rather sharply.

Wanda saw very well that he was offended; but she relied on her power over him, a power she had often tested during the last few weeks.

"Yes, I will!" she declared, as decidedly as before.

The frown deepened on the young man's face. It was one of those moments when he rose up in rebellion against the charm which held him captive; but suddenly he met the dark eyes, and their look seemed to change the order into an entreaty. It was all over now with his anger and resistance. His brow cleared. He smiled.

"Well, then, I will give it you in my short, prosaic way," said he, with an emphasis on the last words. "Vineta[1] was, so the story goes, an old fortified place by the sea, and the capital of an ancient nation. Her dominion extended over all the neighbouring coasts and over the waves, where she ruled supreme. Unparalleled in splendour and greatness, countless treasures flowed in to her from other lands; but pride, presumption, and the sins of her inhabitants brought down the chastis.e.m.e.nt of Heaven upon her, and she sank, swallowed up by the waves. Our sailors still affirm and vow that yonder, where the coast shelves back so far, the fortress of Vineta lies uninjured at the bottom of the sea. They say that, deep down below in the water, they catch a glimpse at times of towers and cupolas, hear the bells ring, and occasionally, at enchanted hours, the whole fairy city rises out of the depths, and shows itself to some specially favoured beholders.

There are plenty of strange mirage effects at sea, and here in the north we have a sort of 'Fata Morgana,' though it comes but seldom ..."

"Oh, spare me all these tame explanations!" interrupted Wanda, impatiently. "Who cares for them, when the legend is pretty--and wonderfully pretty this one is, don't you think so?"

"I don't know," replied Waldemar, a little embarra.s.sed. "I never thought about it."

"Have you no feeling for poetry whatever?" cried the young Countess, in despair. "Why, it is perfectly dreadful!"

He looked at her in surprise and some confusion.

"Do you think it so dreadful?"

"Of course I do!"

"No one has ever taught me to understand poetry," said the young man, almost in a tone of apology. "In my uncle's house n.o.body knows anything about it, and my tutors have never done more than give me dry, formal lessons. I am only just beginning to see that there is such a thing in the world."

The last words were spoken with a certain dreaminess of expression very new to Waldemar. He tossed back the hair which, as usual, had fallen low over his forehead, and leaned his head against the trunk of a beech. Wanda suddenly discovered that the brow so constantly hidden beneath those unkempt light locks was high and remarkably well-shaped.

Now that it was free and exposed to view, it seemed really to lend n.o.bility to the plain, irregular face. On the left temple a peculiarly distinct blue vein stood out, marked and salient even in a moment of repose. The young Countess had never noticed it before, hidden, as it generally was, beneath the enormous lion's mane which was always an object of derision to her.

"Do you know, I have just found out something, Waldemar," said she, mischievously.

"Well?" he asked, without changing his position.

"That strange blue vein on your forehead. My aunt has one, too, on the temple, just in the same place and exactly similar, only less strongly marked."