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The tempo quickened and the rhythm; and the tones grew higher and richer, ringing, more pa.s.sionate. Such acting--such singing! It was as if the Walkure herself had come out of the trance back to life, and the audience saw Brunnhilde in the flesh. The House reverberated to the sound of her voice; it was a glory, a revelation.
She sang on and on, and Siegfried answered; but the eyes of the Singer, and her hands lifted, were toward the House, the orchestra pit, the desk, the baton--the head with its dark hair falling and the arm outstretched.
The curtain fell slowly.
"Brunnhilde! Brunnhilde!"
With the flaring up of the lights the House was in an uproar. "Who was she? What was she? Where did she come from? Ah--h! Brunnhilde!"
They clapped and stamped, and shouted themselves hoa.r.s.e, calling her name: "Brunnhilde!"
"She is there!" cried the Kapellmeister, "Go to her, Velasco; go to her quickly! Gott! I thought the Opera would have come to a standstill!
My heart was in my mouth!--Go!"
He pushed the Violinist towards the door and closed it behind him; then he fell back against the wall and listened. The noise in the House was like a mob let loose.
"Brunnhilde! Why doesn't she come? Bring her before the curtain! . . . Brunnhilde!"
"I must go," he said, "I must speak to them--tell them anything--she is ill--she is exhausted! Something--it doesn't matter! I must go and quiet the tumult!"
The Kapellmeister leaned for a moment against the background of the scenery; he looked at the door and listened. The House was going mad: "Brunnhilde! Brunnhilde!"
Then, staggering a little, with his hands to his face, he went out on the stage.
CHAPTER XXIV.
"Kaya!"
"Velasco! Ah, Velasco! Don't come--don't touch--me!"
He sprang forward.
She was still in the Brunnhilde dress with the helmet on her head and the white robes trailing. The spear lay at her feet. He trampled on it as he sprang, s.n.a.t.c.hing her into his arms: "Kaya!"
His grip was like a band of steel and he wound his arms about her, pressing her to him: "Kaya, my beloved! Ah, my beloved--speak to me!
Open your eyes! Look at me!" He tore the helmet from her head and flung it to the ground. The red-blonde hair fell back, and he kissed her cheek and her curls.
He was like a whirlwind wooing, and she like a lily blown by the gale.
She lay in his arms. Her lips quivered as he kissed them, but she lay without motion or sign.
"Are you faint?" he cried, "Have you swooned? Kaya! It is as if the world had gone to pieces suddenly and this were chaos, and only you and I--only you and I."
He kissed her eyelids.
"Open them, Kaya, they are blue as the sky."
He kissed her throat.
"It swells like a bird's when it trills, and the sound of it is as a nightingale in the twilight."
He kissed her lips.
"Ah, they are warm; they quiver and tremble!"
His arms were so strong she was pinioned, and she panted as she breathed. He kissed her again and again as one who is starving and thirsty, and she stirred in his arms, lifting her face:
"Velasco--my husband--my--self! To lie in your arms--it is heaven, and to leave them is h.e.l.l! Let me go--Velasco! I love you--I love you!
Let me--go!"
"So long as the world lasts and there is strength in my body--never!
Say you love me again."
"I love you."
"You will never leave me? You will stay with me always while we live?
Say it, Kaya! Your cheeks are white like a sea-sh.e.l.l; they flush like a rose when I press them with my lips! Say it, Kaya! You are trembling--you are sobbing!"
"I must leave you, Velasco--I cannot stay. It is like leaving one's life and one's soul!"
He laughed: "Leave me then! Can you stir from my arms? They are strong. I will hold you forever." He laid his dark, curly head against the gold of her curls, and she felt his breath against her throat.
She opened her eyes: "My hands, Velasco--they are stained with blood; have you forgotten? How can I stay with you when there is--blood on my--hands?"
He pressed her closer: "Give them to me; let me kiss the stains!"
"I am cursed, Velasco, I am cursed! I have taken the life of a man!"
He held his breath suddenly, moving his face until he could see into her eyes. "Ah," he said, "Is that why you left me, Kaya, because of the curse?"
"Yes--Velasco."
"You loved me then! It was a lie? Kaya, tell me!"
"I loved you, Velasco, I loved you!"
"And now--?"
She clung to him and his arms tightened.
Suddenly he laughed again. "Hark!" he cried, "You hear the shouting?
They are shouting for you! They are stamping and clapping for you; they are calling your name!" He threw back his head, laughing madly:
"Come--Kaya! Let us go together and peep through the curtain. The first time I saw you, you were there in the House, and I behind on the stage alone, with your violets. Now we are together. You will leave me, you say? Come, Kaya, and look at the House through the curtain.