The Countess Cosel Part 25

"Who is that woman?" inquired Cosel, pointing towards the beggar.

The German shrugged his shoulders contemptuously:

"She is a Slav, a Wendish woman! I cannot get rid of her. She claims that this property used to belong to her father. She lives not far from here in a hut built at the foot of the mountain. I don't know what she lives on; she wanders across the fields muttering, and who knows but it may be some devilish incantations, for she must be a witch. Sometimes of nights when the storm howls she sings, and then we s.h.i.+ver. I cannot chase her away, for she knows how to conjure up devils, who serve her."

Then with a sigh, he added,--

"She foretells the future, and she is never mistaken."

Cosel turned and looked at the old woman; then she went over to her.

She was the only one of the party bold enough; her companions, hearing witchcraft mentioned, had withdrawn to a distance.

"What is her name?" she asked the German.

The man hesitated, then whispered so low that even she could scarcely hear what he said,--

"Mlawa."

The old woman made a movement as though she heard her name; she raised her emaciated head proudly, shook her long, hanging, grey locks, and looked around, as though searching for the bold person who had dared to mention her name.

Unheeding the woman's strange manner, Cosel, to the surprise of her companions, went up to the old beggar. For a moment the two women looked into each other's eyes.

Cosel was the first to speak.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Tell me why you are so poor."

Mlawa shook her head.

"I am not poor," she replied proudly, "for I have memories of happy years. I am here still on the land that belonged to my family. I am the Queen."

"You are a Queen?" laughed Cosel.

"Yes, I am a Queen! for the blood of the kings of this land flows in my veins. All things are possible in this world. You, though to-day you are almost a Queen, by to-morrow may be as miserable as I."

"Of what kings are you speaking?" inquired Cosel thoughtfully.

The old woman raised her hand and pointed to the surrounding country.

"All that was ours--all, until you came and took it, and slew us as though we had been wild beasts. We were good; we came with bread, and salt, and song; while you came with iron, fire, and slaughter. And the German race multiplied, and pushed us out of our land. It's my land, and I must die here. From this place my soul will find its way back to my people."

"Are you able to tell fortunes?" asked Cosel, urged thereto by feverish curiosity.

"That depends," said Mlawa indifferently.

"Would you do it for me?"

The old woman looked on her pityingly.

"Why do you wish your fortune told?" asked she. "Whoever rose as high as you have done can only fall; better not ask!"

Cosel paled, but anxious to show that she was courageous, she smiled, though her lips trembled.

"I am not afraid of anything," she said, "I can look at happiness, as I can look at the sun; and I shall be able to look into the darkness also."

"But suppose the darkness lasts too long?"

"It cannot last for ever," rejoined Cosel.

"Who can tell?" whispered Mlawa. "Let me see your hand!" she added, stretching forth her own.

The Countess retreated a few paces, feeling rather afraid, for in those days every one believed in witchcraft.

"Don't be afraid, my beauty," said Mlawa calmly. "I shall not soil your white fingers, I shall only look at them."

Cosel drew off her glove, and exhibited to the old woman, a beautiful white hand, glittering with rings.

"What a beautiful hand! Worthy to be kissed by kings; but, my child, there are dreadful signs in it. That hand often touched the face that looked on her boldly. Am I right?"

Cosel blushed; Mlawa was thoughtful.

"What are you going to tell me?" whispered Cosel uneasily.

"You are going on towards your destiny. Who has ever avoided his fate?

Who has ever seen its precipices? After long happiness, there awaits you a still longer, oh, far longer season of penitence, a rigorous captivity, sleepless nights, unaccustomed tears. Having children, you will be childless; with a husband, you will be a widow, you will be an imprisoned Queen; you will be free, but you will throw away your freedom--you will be--oh! don't ask me--"

Cosel was as white as marble, but still she tried to smile.

"What have I done to you," she asked, "that you wish to terrify me?"

"I pity you!" said Mlawa. "Why did you wish to look into my soul?

Wormwood grows there! Bitterness flows through my words. I pity you!"

The old woman's head drooped.

"You are not the only one! Thousands have suffered in this world, and have died, and their ashes are scattered by the winds. Like you, thousands are moaning in slavery--my forefathers, grandfather, father, kings. I am the last of their race. The German has driven me from my home."

Cosel drew a gold coin from her purse, and handed it to the old woman.

"I don't take alms," said she; "you will pay differently; everything is reckoned above."

And raising her hands, she walked into the meadows.

During this conversation, Cosel's companions had been standing at a little distance, admiring her courage. Now none dared ask why she looked so pale and thoughtful. She mounted her horse, but she dropped the rein and allowed the animal to guide her.

They continued to ride forward, but slowly. Then from afar high towers appeared in sight.

"That is Stolpen," said the equerry.

An hour's more riding and they reached the castle. The King's cavalcade was standing opposite the rock of basalt, waiting for the Countess, whom they had seen while she was still at a distance.