A Sister's Love Part 13

"'Has Isa gone?' I asked her.

"She nodded. 'She went half an hour ago.'

"'Just where does she live?' I inquired.

"'In Dambitz,' was the reply.

"I let my work drop from astonishment. 'In Dambitz? How did she happen to go to Dambitz?'

"'S---- was too far away, Fraulein Rosamond,' stammered Susanna shyly, 'and so she has hired a little room there at the blacksmith's. But she says she does not notice the noise of the forge at all; her windows look out on the castle garden, and that is wonderful, she says. She may live there, may she not?' she added, beseechingly; 'it is certainly far enough from here.'

"'Of course she can live where she pleases, Susanna,' said I; 'we have no right to lay down commands about that.'

"Meanwhile Brockelmann had set the table for supper on the terrace, and we seated ourselves. Candles were now burning on the table, and their unsteady, flickering light fell on Susanna's beautiful pale face. Her white dress was made quite fresh again, and even the withered roses were replaced by fresh ones; one could see that the old Isabella had been helping the child.

"Susanna was seated between Klaus and me, Sturmer and Anna Maria opposite. There was a strawberry _bowle_ on the table, and Susanna drank eagerly; gradually color came into her cheeks, and her dark eyes began to s.h.i.+ne. And then all at once she was in her element--laughing, jesting, and mirth. And how she could laugh! I have never heard such a laugh as Susanna Mattoni's. It ran the whole compa.s.s of the scale, so light and delicious that one was forced to join in it; and as she laughed, her red mouth displayed the prettiest white teeth, and prattled mere nonsense and follies, and as she held high her gla.s.s to touch with Sturmer, I saw Klaus look at her with an expression that spoke even more plainly than his trembling voice yesterday.

"Anna Maria sat silent opposite her, and not the faintest smile pa.s.sed over her lips; this graceful trifling was decidedly unpleasant to her.

But Susanna had the majority on her side, for even honest old Pastor Grune did not conceal the fact that he was fascinated by her.

"I tried to think how I might silence the little red lips, but in vain.

At last a thought struck me. 'Susanna 'I cried in the midst of her sweet laugh, 'Susanna, what do you say to a song? I heard you singing so prettily last evening.'

"'Ah! no, no, Mademoiselle,' she objected; 'I cannot sing before people.'

"But the gentlemen echoed my request with one voice, and Sturmer proposed to extinguish the candles, saying that one could surely sing better by moonlight.

"'Yes, yes!' she said joyfully, 'then I will sing!' And soon the reddish light had disappeared, and the pale moon's silvery rays fell on the bright figure of the girl, who had sprung up and was now standing by the railing.

"'What shall I sing?' she asked, 'Italian or German?'

"'German! German!' cried the gentlemen.

"'Oh! please Susanna,' said I, 'the song you were singing last evening; Anna Maria and I did not understand the words very well.'

"Anna Maria suddenly rose, but as if thinking better of it, sat down again. Sturmer had turned half around in his chair and was looking at Susanna.

"And now she began, leaning on the bal.u.s.trade; and the same tones came to us, soft and sweet, and the same words we had heard last evening:

"'Far through the world I have wandered away, And the old strife goes with me wherever I stray; Home have I come, and my heart burns with pain, Ah, that I only could wander again!

I am held not by walls, not by bolts, not by bars-- Two great blue eyes hold me, that s.h.i.+ne like the stars I And were but my fiery steed by my side, Again on his willing back fain would I ride; He would bear me away, far away from my home-- But I've seen thee again, and can never more roam!'

"I looked at Anna Maria in alarm, but her face was turned away, and only in her trembling white hands, which she had clasped, did I detect the agitation wrought in her by this song. Who had thought of such a song?

And Sturmer? He had sprung up and stood close by Susanna.

"'Another song, Fraulein,' he demanded, almost vehemently, 'a different one. You are much too young for such melancholy!'

"'A German knows no different songs, Herr Baron,' objected Pastor Grune.

'Old national songs are sad, usually the lament for a faithless love, for a dead treasure. Let our nation be as it is in this. I would rather have one little German national song than a dozen French _chansons_.'

"Sturmer did not answer, and there was a painful silence.

"'Another song?' asked Susanna at last--'a lively one?'

"'Yes!' cried Klaus, 'a lively one, a hunting-song, Susanna, or a drinking-song! 'He had risen in embarra.s.sment at the critical situation, and filled his gla.s.s afresh.

"And Susanna began, in a merry strain:

"'In the early morn A-hunting I went, Past my darling's house My steps I bent.

"'Up to the window A glance I threw.

Ah! if she would look down, Good luck would ensue.

"'In vain, she's still dreaming; But something stirred.

By the apple-tree yonder A laugh was heard.

"'And bright as the rosy Morning so fair, My dear little treasure I saw standing there.

"'Nodding and smiling, She beckoned away, But not one lucky shot Had I on that day.

"'Are they bewitched, then, My powder and lead?

Each ball flies away, Bringing down nothing dead.'

"Susanna suddenly stopped, as if exhausted, and drew a long breath. The laugh had vanished for a moment from her face.

"'More, more!' cried the gentlemen. 'The charming song cannot possibly be finished?' asked Sturmer.

"'No, the conclusion is surely wanting,' added Pastor Grune. And Susanna drew a long breath and sang on:

"'And again past the house I was going to-day; Little grandmother peeped at me Over the way.

"'With a shake of the head.

She calls with sweet grace, "G.o.d greet you, and are you Off to the chase?"

"'And with all my might I cursed the old dame; But my arm remained steady, I missed no aim.

"'And when in surprise I told Liebchen the tale.

She began to laugh In a perfect gale.'

"The last verse ended in a real laugh, so roguish and charming and so irresistible that we were all drawn into it.

"'Now that is enough!' she cried at last. 'Oh! I do so like to hear how people have to laugh with me when I begin! Oh! I have done it so often when Isa tried to scold me, but now'--she suddenly stopped--'I haven't laughed for so long, I thought I should have forgotten how, but, thank fortune, I can still do it! Oh, I do like to laugh so!'

"Anna Maria rose and went into the garden-parlor, as if she had something to attend to there, but she did not come back, nor did she come when Sturmer and the clergyman wished to take their leave of her.

Klaus looked for her in the sitting-room, and even went up to her bedroom, but he returned alone, and the gentlemen had to leave without bidding her good-by.

"'Pray excuse Anna Maria, dear Edwin,' I heard Klaus say; 'she probably does not dream of your going so early; you are certainly in a great hurry.'

"It was true; Sturmer's departure was very abrupt; toward the last he had scarcely spoken a word. I thought it was because he was reminded of his first love; that melody and the words still kept ringing in my ears; an unfortunate song!