CHAPTER V.
Meanwhile Athalwin had already reached his father and climbed up his knee, clinging to his foot.
The rider lifted him up with a loving hand, set him before him in the saddle, and spurred his horse into a gallop. The noble animal, once the charger of Theodoric, neighed lustily as he recognised his home and his mistress, and shook his flowing mane.
The rider now reached the hill, and dismounted with the boy.
"My dear wife!" he exclaimed, embracing her tenderly.
"My Witichis!" she answered, blushing with pleasure, and clinging to him; "welcome home!"
"I promised that I would come before the new moon--it was difficult----"
"But thou hast kept thy word, as always."
"My heart drew me here," he said, putting his arm around her.
They went on slowly to the house.
"It seems, Athalwin, that Wallada is of more consequence to thee than thy father," said Witichis, smiling, to the boy, who was leading the horse carefully after them.
"No, father; but give me the lance too--I have not often such a pleasure in this country life;" and dragging the long, heavy shaft of the spear after him with difficulty, he cried out: "Eh! Wachis, Ansbrand! father has come! Fetch the skin of Falernian from the cellar. Father is thirsty after his rapid ride!"
With a smile Witichis stroked the golden curls of the boy, who now hurried past them to the house.
"Well, and how does all go on here?" asked Witichis, looking at Rauthgundis.
"Very well, Witichis. The harvest is all brought in, the grapes crushed, the sheaves housed."
"I do not ask about that," said he, pressing her tenderly to him--"how art thou?"
"As well as a poor woman can be," she answered, looking up at him, "who misses her well-loved husband. Work is the only thing that comforts me, my friend; plenty of occupation, which benumbs a sensitive heart. I often think how thou, far away amongst strange people, must trouble thyself in court and camp, where there is none to cherish thee. At least, I say to myself, he shall find his home well-kept and cheerful when he returns. And it is that, seest thou, which sanctifies and ennobles all the dull routine of work, and makes it dear to me."
"That's my brave wife! But dost thou not too much fatigue thyself?"
"Work is healthy. But vexation, and the men's wickedness, that hurts me!"
Witichis stood still.
"Who dares to grieve thee?"
"Ah! the Italian servants, and our Italian neighbours! They all hate us. Woe to us, if they did not fear us. Calpurnius, our neighbour, is so insolent when he knows thou art absent, and the Roman slaves are disobedient and false; our Gothic servants alone are good."
Witichis sighed. They had now arrived at the house, and sat down at a marble table under the colonnade.
"Thou must remember," said Witichis, "that our neighbour was forced to give up to us the third part of his estate and slaves."
"And has kept two-thirds, and his life into the bargain--he ought to thank God!" answered Rauthgundis contemptuously.
Just then Athalwin came running with a basketful of apples, which he had plucked from the tree. Presently Wachis and the other German servants came with wine, meat, and cheese, and greeted their master with a frank clasp of the hand.
"Well done, my children. The mistress praises you. But where are Davus, Cacus, and the others?"
"Pardon, sir," answered Wachis, grinning, "they have a bad conscience."
"Why? What about?"
"Eh!--I think--because I have beaten them little; they are ashamed."
The other men laughed.
"Well, it will do them no harm," said Witichis; "go now to your meal. To-morrow I will examine your work."
The men went.
"What is that about Calpurnius?" asked Witichis, pouring wine into his cup.
Rauthgundis blushed and hesitated.
"He has carried away the hay from the mountain meadow," she then replied, "which our men had mowed; and has put it into his barn by night, and will not return it."
"He will return it quickly enough, I think," said her husband quietly, as he took up his cup and drank.
"Yes," cried Athalwin eagerly, "I think so too! And if he will not, all the better for me! Then we will declare war, and I will go over with Wachis and all the great fellows, with weapons and pikes! He always looks at me so wickedly, the black spy!"
Rauthgundis told him to be silent, and sent him to bed.
"Very well, I will go," he said; "but, father, when thou comest again, thou wilt bring me a real weapon, instead of this stick, wilt thou not?" and he ran into the house.
"Contentions with these Italians never cease," said Witichis; "the very children inherit the feeling. But it causes thee far too much vexation here. So much the more willingly wilt thou do what I now propose: come with me to Ravenna, Rauthgundis, to court."
His wife looked at him with astonishment.
"Thou art joking!" she said incredulously. "Thou hast never before wished it! During the nine years of our married life, it has never entered thy head to take me to court! I believe no one in all the nation knows that a Rauthgundis exists. For a surety, thou hast kept our marriage secret," she added, smiling, "like a crime!"
"Like a treasure!" said Witichis, embracing her.
"I have never asked thee wherefore. I was and am happy; and I thought and think now: he has his reason."
"I had a good reason: it exists no longer. Now thou mayest know all. A few months after I had found thee amid the solitudes of thy mountains, and had conceived an affection for thee, King Theodoric hit upon the strange idea, to unite me in marriage with his sister Amalaberga, the widow of the King of the Thuringians, who needed the protection of a man against her wicked neighbours, the Franks."
"Thou wert to wear a crown?" asked Rauthgundis, with sparkling eyes.
"But Rauthgundis was dearer to me," continued Witichis, "than Queen or crown, and I said, No. It vexed the King exceedingly, and he only forgave me when I told him that probably I should never marry. At that time I could not hope ever to call thee mine; thou knowest how long thy father suspiciously and sternly refused to trust thee to me; but when, notwithstanding, thou wert become my wife, I considered that it would not be wise to show the King the woman for whose sake I had refused his sister."
"But why hast thou concealed all this from me for nine long years?"
"Because," he said, looking lovingly into her eyes, "because I know my Rauthgundis. Thou wouldst ever have imagined I had lost I know not what with that crown! But now the King is dead, and I am permanently bound to the court. Who knows when I shall again rest in the shadow of these columns, in the peace of this roof?"
And he related briefly the fall of the Prefect, and what position he now held near Amalaswintha.
Rauthgundis listened attentively; then she took his hand and pressed it.
"It is good, Witichis, that the Goths gradually find out thy worth, and thou art more cheerful, I think, than usual."
"Yes; I feel more contented since I can bear part of the burden of the time. It was much more difficult to stand idly by and see it pressing heavily upon my nation. I am only sorry for the Queen, she is like a prisoner."
"Bah! Why did the woman grasp at the office of a man? Such a thing would never enter my head."
"Thou art no Queen, Rauthgundis, and Amalaswintha is proud."
"I am ten times prouder than she! but not so vain. She can never have loved a man, nor understood his nature and worth, otherwise she could not wish to fill a man's place."
"At court that is looked upon in a different manner. But do come with me to Ravenna."
"No, Witichis," she quietly said, rising from her seat, "the court is not fit for me, nor I for the court. I am the child of a mountain farmer, and far too uncultured. Look at this brown neck," she laughed, "and these rough hands! I cannot tinkle on the lyre, or read verses. I should be ill suited for the fine Roman ladies, and thou wouldst have little honour with me."
"Surely thou dost not consider thyself too bad for the court?"
"No, Witichis, too good."
"Well, people must learn to bear with and appreciate each other."
"I could not do that. They could perhaps learn to bear with me, out of fear of thee. But I should daily tell them to their faces that they are hollow, false, and bad!"
"So, then, thou wilt rather do without thy husband for months?"
"Yes, rather do without him, than be near him in a false and unfitting position. Oh, my Witichis!" she added, encircling his neck with her arm, "consider who I am and how thou foundest me! where the last settlements of our people dot the edge of the Alps, high up upon the steep precipices of the Scaranzia; where the youthful Isara breaks foaming out of the ravines into the open plains, there stands my father's lonely farm; there I knew of nought but the hard work of summer upon the quiet alms, of winter in the smoke-blackened hall, spinning with the maids. My mother died early, and my brothers were killed by the Italians. So I grew up lonely, no one near me but my old father, who was as true, but also as hard and close, as his native rocks. There I saw nothing of the world which lay outside our mountains. Only sometimes, from a height, I watched with curiosity a pack-horse going along the road deep below in the valley, laden with salt or wine. I sat through many a shining summer evening upon the jagged peaks of the high Arn, and looked at the sun sinking splendidly over the far-away river Licus; and I wondered what it had seen the whole long summer day, since it had risen over the broad Œnus; and I thought how I should like to know what things looked like at the other side of the Karwändel, or away behind the Brennus, over which my brothers had gone and had never returned. And yet I felt how beautiful it was up there in the green solitude, where I heard the golden eagle screaming in its near eyrie, and where I plucked more lovely flowers than ever grow in the plains, and even, sometimes, heard by night the mountain-wolf howling outside the stable-door, and frightened it away with a torch. In early autumn, too, and in the long winter, I had time to sit and muse; when the white mist-veils spun themselves over the lofty pines; when the mountain wind tore the blocks of stone from our straw-roof, and the avalanches thundered from the precipices. So I grew up, strange to the world beyond the next forest, only at home in the quiet world of my thoughts, and in the narrow life of the peasant. Then thou earnest--I remember it as if it had happened yesterday----"
She ceased, lost in recollection.
"I remember it too, exactly," said Witichis. "I was leading a centumvirate from Juvavia to the Augusta-town on the Licus. I had lost my way and my people. For a long time I had wandered about in the sultry summer day, without finding a path, when I saw smoke rising above a fir-tree grove, and soon I found a hidden farm, and entered the yard-gate. There stood a splendid girl at the pump, lifting a bucket----"
"Look, even here in the valley, in this southern valley of the Alps, it is often too close for me; and I long for a breath of air from the pine-woods of my mountains. But at court, in the narrow gilded chambers! there I should languish and pine away. Leave me here; I shall manage Calpurnius well enough. And thou, I know well, wilt still think of home, wife, and child, when absent in the royal halls."
"Yes, God knows, with longing thoughts! Well then, remain here, and God keep thee, my good wife!"
The second day after this conversation Witichis again rode away up the wooded heights.
The parting hour had made him almost tender; but he had firmly checked the outbreak of feeling which it was so repugnant to his simple and manly nature to indulge in. How the brave man's heart clung to his trusty wife and darling boy!
Behind him trotted Wachis, who would not be prevented from accompanying his master for a short distance.
Suddenly he rode up to him.
"Sir," said he, "I know something."
"Indeed! Why didst not tell it?"
"Because no one asked me about it."
"Well, I ask thee about it."
"Yes; if one is asked, then of course he must answer! The mistress has told you that Calpurnius is such a bad neighbour?"
"Yes; what about that?"
"But she did not tell you since when?"
"No; dost thou know?"
"Well, it was about half a year ago. About that time Calpurnius once met the mistress in the wood, alone as they both thought; but they were not alone. Some one lay in a ditch, and was taking his mid-day nap."
"Thou wert that sluggard!"
"Rightly guessed. And Calpurnius said something to the mistress."
"What did he say?"
"That I did not understand. But the mistress was not idle; she lifted her hand and struck him in the face with such a smack, that it resounded. And since then our neighbour is a bad neighbour, and I wanted to tell you, because I thought the mistress would not wish to vex you about the rascal; but still it is better that you know it. And see! there stands Calpurnius at his house door; do you see? and now farewell, dear master."
And with this he turned his horse and galloped home. But the blood rushed to Witichis' face.
He rode up to his neighbour's door. Calpurnius was about to retreat into the house, but Witichis called to him in such a voice, that he was obliged to remain.
"What do you want with me, neighbour Witichis?" he asked, looking up at him askance.
Witichis drew rein, and stopped his horse close to him. Then he held his clenched iron-gloved fist close before his neighbour's eyes.
"Neighbour Calpurnius," he said quietly, "if I ever strike thee in the face, thou wilt never rise again."
Calpurnius started back in a fright.
But Witichis gave his horse the spur, and rode proudly and slowly upon his way.