The Banishment—The Re-Union.
When Magde's boat passed the mansion at Almvik, two persons were walking on the verge of the shore near the lake. The one was Mistress Ulrica, and her companion was Gottlieb, who had returned a few days before, from his trip through Norway.
As the boat shot round a rocky point of land, Gottlieb exclaimed, as he recognized its occupants, and bowed friendly to them: "Where are they all going! They look so sorrowful and dejected!"
"Sorrowful!" repeated Mrs. Ulrica, "you may thank God that it is not necessary for you to participate in the sorrows of the lower classes."
"If they are in trouble, I do not see why I should not sympathise with them."
Aunt Ulrica shook her head with a dissatisfied expression of countenance.
"You may certainly boast of your firmness of mind, and your knowledge of human nature; I have shown you the danger of associating with such persons. I sent you away—I—"
"I beg your pardon," interrupted Gottlieb, hastily, "I was not sent away. I took a journey which I had decided on myself, and returned as I departed, with a heart ever ready to sympathise with the afflicted."
"Then go, and participate in the sorrows of your beggar friends. I suppose, from your liberal words, that you are well supplied with money."
"What has happened to them?"
"The old man, in connection with his son, has been detected in smuggling foreign goods, and of course his property was confiscated. The old gentleman in whose name the business was transacted, was sent to prison because he had no money to pay the penalty, and there he will remain until you go to his release."
"And he shall not wait long," replied Gottlieb. "I have accomplished greater undertakings than that in my time."
"Ah, ha," sneered Mrs. Ulrica, "you speak boldly, boy. I am astonished."
"If any one should be astonished, I am the person."
"Indeed!"
"I come to relatives who at first welcomed me cordially. My affections attached themselves to my kind friends, for it is a necessary quality for me to be grateful; but suddenly everything is changed, and I am treated like a school boy, whom you must curb, or else fear that he might commit some folly. To this description of guardianship I have not been accustomed, and as it is not my desire to submit to your control, I must beg you, Aunt Ulrica, not to attempt to govern me in this manner, for I assure you that your efforts will always be fruitless."
"Foolish boy! You forget that I could be useful to you; could smooth your path by my wealth and influence."
"I do not forget it, and I should have been very happy to have been able to retain your good will; but at the price of my liberty of thought and action, I do not desire your favor."
"Then you will return to the valley, to Miss Nanna."
"Undoubtedly. She requires my presence, and I long to see her."
"Then you still love the young girl?" inquired Mrs. Ulrica.
"I do not know whether I loved her when I departed from Almvik; but this much I do know, that her image has been with me constantly during my absence; and that I shall see her again to-day."
"To tell her of this folly?"
"O, no, that would be unjust, as I can tell her nothing more."
"Thank Heaven for that! You, yourself, see that it would be impossible to—"
"What?" inquired Gottlieb, as his aunt paused.
"To marry her."
"I do not at all consider it impossible; but as it is uncertain whether I ought to wed Nanna when the time arrives for me to marry, it is better for both of us that we should rest satisfied with friendship alone."
"Listen to me, Gottlieb. Sometimes you speak so wisely that I am not certain but that it would repay me to make a proposal to you."
"Well, I am all attention."
"If I am not much mistaken, pity is the only sentiment that you feel for that girl, Nanna. If I was to take it upon myself to pay the old man's fine; if I should further promise you to provide for Nanna's future maintenance—you know I would not break my word—will you bind yourself not to see her again?"
"No, I will never do that. She would be oppressed with sorrow throughout her whole life, if I should be capable of making such an unworthy promise."
"Obstinate youth! you force me to perform my duty to your mother my sister, and command you to visit Almvik no longer. I will not burden my conscience by abetting you in your misconduct."
"I will remain a few days longer," replied Gottlieb without evincing the slightest emotion, "to rest myself after my journey, and then I shall be ready to obey your command."
"Right," muttered Mrs. Ulrica hotly, as she hastily left the young man, "you shall repent this."
Without wasting time by thinking upon this conversation with his aunt, Gottlieb hastened on the road towards the little cottage. He had observed Nanna was not in the boat, and after proceeding to the spring, and fruitlessly searching for her, he hurried to the cottage, his heart beating with such rapidity as he stood before the door, that he was astonished at his great emotion.
"Illness could not have prevented her from going with them," thought he, "certainly not, or they would have remained with her."
Thus thinking he knocked at the door; but he was obliged to repeat the summons several times before he heard the sound of slow footsteps approaching.
"Who is there?" inquired a soft voice from within.
"'Tis I, Nanna!"
An exclamation of joyful surprise was the only reply. The bolt was quickly thrown back; the door opened, and Nanna appeared upon the threshold, pale and careworn. She was clothed in her only holiday dress, a black merino frock which fitted closely around her neck, thereby disclosing her graceful bust to its best advantage.
Without speaking, but overwhelmed with her joyful emotions, she cast herself in Gottlieb's arms, and never was there a purer embrace given or returned than on this occasion. With tender gentleness Gottlieb imprinted his second kiss upon her lips, and then said softly:—
"Poor Nanna, poor child, you have at least one friend in your adversity."
"Then Gottlieb is acquainted with—" She blushingly withdrew herself from his embrace. She had not thought that her greeting had been contrary to customary usage.
"Yes, I know your sorrow; and you may rest assured that I will give myself no rest, during the few days that I remain here, until I see your father at liberty and safely in his own house again."
"O, if that were but possible!" she clasped her hands and lifted her eyes, confidingly, to the face of her youthful friend.
"It shall be possible, Nanna. You have my word for it. If I had been here it would not have happened."
"I thought so. An inner voice told me that if he would only come to us all would be well again."
"I am grateful for your confidence and shall always remember it with pleasure."
"Remember it!" exclaimed Nanna, "are you going to leave us again?"
Nanna again clasped her hands, and this action and the mournful expression of her countenance spoke more than words could have expressed.
"Will you miss me, Nanna?"
"Always."
"And perhaps wish we had never met?" inquired Gottlieb earnestly.
"Ah, no," replied Nanna warmly, "the remembrance of you will perhaps work a happier future for me than I would have had without it."
"But tell me," said Gottlieb changing the subject to one less dangerous, "why did not your sister apply to the proprietor of Almvik."
"O, she would never apply to him. She would rather allow things to take their own course."
"Why so?"
"I know not whether I dare tell you. Papa and Magde, consider me a mere child, yet I can understand that Mr. H—— has sought her with wrong motives, and if I can believe my brother, Carl—"
"What then?" interrupted Gottlieb eagerly.
"Then I can believe that all of our troubles have originated in the fact that Magde refused to give that gentleman a kiss when he requested it."
"What, did he wish to purchase a kiss?"
"Yes, for Carl's pardon," and now Nanna related every circumstance connected with the theft of the game, in nearly the same words in which she had heard it from Carl.
After a short season of reflection, during which he compared the different circumstances, Gottlieb arrived at the same conclusion that Carl had expressed to his sister; and at the same time he also fancied that he had discovered a method for old Mr. Lonner's release, which could not fail of success. In the meantime he merely inquired whether Mr. Fabian H—— had visited the cottage since his discomfiture.
"I have several times observed him prowling about the premises," replied Nanna; "he probably hoped to have an opportunity of seeing Magde alone, which however he has never had, for even should he offer his assistance, she would not have dared to accept it, for if she did, Ragnar would be very angry."
When Gottlieb returned to Almvik, he learned that his worthy uncle, whom as he before knew had left the house early that morning, was not expected to return until late in the evening. In consequence of this unfortunate circumstance, Gottlieb saw nothing before him except a vexatious delay in his intended operations; but it soon entered his mind that Mr. Fabian's absence might be connected in some degree with his wayward love. The day on which he had visited Magde, in order to take advantage of Carl's theft, he had also departed from Almvik in the morning, for during the evening hours his wife was invariably on the watch.
The more Gottlieb considered this circumstance the more he was convinced that if his uncle had sown the seed it was done for his own benefit, and undoubtedly the time was now at hand when he should reap the harvest.
"Ah!" thought Gottlieb, "if I should only be so fortunate as to obtain a power over my uncle, my suspicions and conjectures would exert a powerful influence upon his yielding disposition, especially, if I should place his wife in the back-ground. But to surprise him, with my own eyes in forbidden grounds, would be as good as to have old Mr. Lonner safe back in his cottage again."