The Alpine Fay Part 18

There was no explanation as to whom the 'she' referred to, but certainly for a time Dr. Reinsfeld was as miserable a man as could be found among the mountains. The consciousness of his want of society tact oppressed him terribly.

CHAPTER XI.

ON THE ALM.

Saint John's day!--the people's holiday from legendary times, preceding Midsummer day, all redolent with mystery, when hidden treasures rise from the depths and allure wondrously, when the slumbering forces of magic awaken, and the entire elfin world of the mountains reveals itself in its wonder-working power. The people have not forgotten the ancient festival of the sun's turning, and legend still throws its veil about the sacred midsummer-time, when the sun mounts highest, when the earth shows fairest, and warm, fresh life courses throughout nature.

In the country about Wolkenstein this day was one of the grand yearly festivals. The inhabitants of the lonely, secluded Alpine valley which the railway was to open to the world the ensuing year were devoted to their customs and habits, and clung closely to their superst.i.tions.

Here the Mountain-Sprite still held undisputed sway, and not merely as a devastating force of nature with snow-storm and avalanche; for most of the people she was enthroned bodily on the veiled summit of the Wolkenstein, and the beacon-fires which flamed up everywhere on St.

John's evening had some hidden connection with the dreaded Spirit of the Mountain. Nothing was known here of the pagan significance of the bale-fire, nor of Christian legend gathered about it; the people in their superst.i.tion clung directly to their own mountain-legends, which they credited fully.

The clear, mild, June day was near its close; the sun had set; a crimson glow still lingered about the loftiest mountain-tops. All the other heights were lightly veiled in blue mists, while the valleys lay in deep shadow.

High above the forests which clothed the foot of the Wolkenstein, where the projecting cliff's of the huge mountain began their rise, there was a smooth, green meadow, whereon stood a low hut. It was usually very lonely up here, and seldom visited by strangers, since the ascent of the Wolkenstein was deemed impossible, but to-day it was enlivened by an unwonted stir and bustle. A huge wood-pile had been built upon the s.p.a.cious meadow, many an ancient pine and hemlock having contributed to its erection. Gigantic logs of wood, dry branches, old roots, towered high in air. The bale-fire on the Wolkenstein was always one of the largest, and gleamed far and wide abroad over the country, for was it not lighted upon the legendary throne of the entire range, at the very feet of the Mountain-Sprite?

Around the pile was a.s.sembled a circle of mountaineers, mostly shepherds and woodsmen, with girls among them from the neighbouring alms, all powerful, sunburned figures, who lived up on the heights in suns.h.i.+ne and storm all through the summer, descending into the valley only when autumn reigned there. All were in merry mood: there were endless shouts and laughter; for people who worked hard day after day, and whose monotonous existence was rarely interrupted by any relaxation, the old popular festival was a joyous one.

To-day, however, they were not entirely left to themselves; there was a little group of spectators who had taken up a position on one side upon a low eminence. This was an unaccustomed sight for the mountaineers, and under other circ.u.mstances would have been an unwelcome one, for on such occasions they liked to feel themselves undisputed lords of their domain. But the young lady sitting on the mossy stone was no stranger among them, nor was the huge lion-like dog at her feet. The two had lived among these mountains for years, in old Wolkenstein Court, not a stone of which was now standing. True, the wild, joyous child of those days had grown to be a grand young lady and lived in the fine Nordheim villa, which was nothing short of a fairy castle in their eyes, but the Fraulein came among them just as she used to do, and talked with them in their patois as of old; no one dreamed of thinking her a stranger.

Moreover, Sepp was with her; he had been ten years in the service of Baron Thurgau, and had superintended the affairs of the little estate, and the two strangers who had accompanied her did not look at all, with their brown faces, like city people. One of them had made Sepp bring him directly into the circle of mountaineers, where he was found to speak the patois perfectly, and was not one whit behind the rest in enjoyment of the fun. The other, who looked a far finer gentleman, with black hair and thick black eyebrows, stayed close beside the young lady, and had just leaned over her to ask rather anxiously, "Are you tired, Fraulein Thurgau? We never stopped once to rest as we came up."

Erna shook her head, smiling: "Oh, no, I have not yet forgotten how to climb. I used to go much higher, greatly to Griff's disgust; he regularly made a halt here when I clambered up the rocks, and he still remembers the place."

"Yes, I saw with admiration how lightly and easily you walked up. I fancy you would find the difficulties of travel mere child's play where other women could not possibly confront them. I am very proud of being your escort upon this bale-fire expedition."

"I should else hardly have been permitted to come. Frau von Lasberg was horrified at the idea of a nightly expedition among the mountains, and Alice is not strong enough to undertake anything of the kind. Sepp indeed long ago offered to accompany me, but he was not thought sufficiently trustworthy, although he lived with us for ten years."

There was a shade of bitterness in the words, which did not escape the hearer.

"You would not have been permitted?" he asked, surprised. "Do you really allow yourself to be governed by others in such matters?"

Erna was silent, knowing well what a scene there had been when she expressed a desire to make this expedition. Frau von Lasberg had been almost beside herself at so eccentric and unbecoming an idea,--wis.h.i.+ng to mingle among peasants after nightfall, and to witness their rude festivities. But it chanced that Ernst Waltenberg and his secretary arrived from Heilborn in the afternoon. He immediately offered to escort the young girl, and, as he was already regarded in the Nordheim household as Erna's future husband, the privilege was accorded him which had been denied to faithful old Sepp. Ernst was about to pursue his inquiries, when a stranger approached and said, half shyly, half familiarly,--

"Welcome home, Fraulein von Thurgau!"

"Dr. Reinsfeld!" exclaimed Erna, in delighted surprise, offering him her hand with the same confidence with which as a child she had treated him upon his visits to her father. He seemed at first amazed, but his face instantly lit up with pleasure as he grasped the offered hand with answering cordiality. In a moment Griff had recognized his old friend, and was leaping about him with every mark of delight.

"I did not have a glimpse of you yesterday when you were at our house,"

said Erna. "I did not know of your visit until you had gone."

"And I did not venture to ask for you; I did not know whether you would like to have me claim acquaintance with you."

"Could you entertain such a doubt?"

There was reproach in her tone, but Reinsfeld evidently was not depressed by it, and he looked at the girl with sparkling eyes. He could see how much more beautiful, how much graver, she had become, but she was the same to him as of old, nor did he in her presence feel any of the timidity and embarra.s.sment which had made him so awkward on the previous day.

"I had such a dread of seeing you a fine lady," he said, simply. "But, thank G.o.d, you are not that!"

The e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n seemed to come so directly from his heart that Erna laughed,--the same merry, childlike laugh to which she had for years been a stranger.

Waltenberg had at first observed with evident dismay the familiar greetings thus exchanged, and the look with which he had scanned Reinsfeld was darkly suspicious. Its result, however, could not but be satisfactory. This Herr Doctor in jacket and felt hat could hardly be a dangerous rival; the very ease and familiarity of his intercourse with Erna was the best of warrants that he was merely a friend of her childhood. Ernst Waltenberg was quite capable of perceiving this, and his manner when Reinsfeld was presented to him was extremely cordial.

"We are but just arrived," said the doctor, after the introduction had taken place, "and in all this merry turmoil we did not at first perceive you. But where has Wolfgang gone? I brought your future relative with me, Fraulein Thurgau. Wolf, where are you?"

His call was quite unnecessary, for Elmhorst was standing fifty paces off, looking fixedly at the group. Apparently he had not intended to join it; he now slowly approached, and Benno could not but be surprised at the formality of the greetings interchanged between the 'future relatives.' Wolfgang bowed formally, and Erna's manner seemed to indicate that this meeting was anything but agreeable to her.

"I thought you were to be in Oberstein this evening, Herr Elmhorst?"

said she. "You spoke yesterday of going there."

"I did, and I have been there with Benno, but he persuaded me to come up to the alm with him."

"That he may see a veritable bale-fire," Benno interposed. "There is one kindled in Oberstein too, but there the entire village, all the labourers on the railway, the engineers, and a crowd of guests from Heilborn are a.s.sembled, and so the fine old custom comes to be only a noisy spectacle for strangers. Up here we have the genuine unadulterated mountain-life. And there is Sepp! How are you, old fellow? Yes, we are here. You would rather we were not to-night, I know, and therefore I said not one word in Oberstein of our expedition.

You must put up with us,--that is, with the Herr Superintendent and the stranger gentleman there,--for Fraulein von Thurgau and I belong here."

"Yes, you belong here," said Sepp, solemnly. "You surely ought not to be absent."

"I should like to protest against being treated as an entire stranger,"

said Wolfgang. "I have been living for three years in the mountains."

"But in constant war with them," Waltenberg interposed, half ironically. "That would hardly establish your right to feel at home among them, it seems to me."

"At most only the right of the conqueror;" Erna said, coldly. "Herr Elmhorst upon his arrival here was wont to boast that he would take possession of the realm of the Mountain-Sprite and bind it in chains."

"You see, however, Fraulein Thurgau," Wolfgang replied, in the same tone, "that it was no empty boast. We _have_ brought her under subjection, the haughty ruler of the mountains. She made it difficult enough for us, so intrenching herself in her forests and fields that we were obliged to contend for every step of our way; but she was conquered at last. By the end of autumn the last structures will be completed, and next spring our trains will thunder through this entire Wolkenstein domain."

"I am sorry for the magnificent valley," said Waltenberg. "All its beauty will be lost when steam once takes possession of it and the shrill whistle of the locomotive invades the sublime repose of the mountains."

Wolfgang shrugged his shoulders: "I am sorry, but such romantic considerations cannot have any weight where the question is one of furnis.h.i.+ng the world with roads for travel."

"The world which belongs to you! Here in Europe you have mastered it with steam and iron. We who would find some quiet valley wherein to dream undisturbed shall finally be obliged to seek it in some distant island in the ocean."

"a.s.suredly, Herr Waltenberg, if such dreaming seem to you the sole aim of existence. For us it is action."

Ernst bit his lip: he saw that Erna was listening, and to be thus reproved in her presence was more than he could bear; adopting, therefore, the same indifferent, high-bred tone with which he had tried to humiliate the 'fortune-hunter' at their first interview, he said, "The old dispute, begun in the Herr President's conservatory! I never doubted your activity, Herr Elmhorst; you have certainly by its aid achieved brilliant results."

Wolfgang involuntarily held himself more erect; he knew what result was meant, but he merely smiled contemptuously. Here he was not merely 'the future husband of Alice Nordheim' as in society in the capital; here he was in his own domain, and with all the proud self-consciousness of a man perfectly aware of his talent and of his achievements, he replied, "You allude to my work as an engineer? The Wolkenstein bridge is indeed my first work, but it will hardly be my last."

Waltenberg was silenced. He had seen the gigantic structure spanning the yawning abyss, and he felt that he must give up treating as an adventurer the man who had devised it. Though he should aspire ten times over to the hand of the millionaire's daughter, there was stuff in this Elmhorst, even his antagonist must admit, however unwillingly.

"I have indeed admired the engineer of that magnificent work," he replied, after a pause.

"I am greatly flattered by your saying so,--you have seen all the finest bridges in the world."