CHAPTER IX.
"It is half-past four," said Elsa, "we must go."
"You might remain here."
"I am not sure whether my father will have arrived yet; indeed, supposing he came by the midday train, he could not be at Warnow yet; but that terrible man is certainly there, expecting you, and perhaps may go away again without waiting for you---"
"I must speak to him," murmured Valerie.
"And you must not speak to him alone; I will not allow it; and so we must go."
"Without taking with us any comfort for you, my poor child!"
"I am comforted, I am quite calm; you can surely perceive that by my voice and manner." And Elsa bent down and kissed her aunt's pale lips.
They were sitting at the window of Reinhold's study, on the right hand as you entered the one-storied house, which was imposing compared with its neighbours, which were still smaller.
Elsa had entered almost all of them; the houses of the two chief pilots, and some of those amongst which the four and twenty other pilots were distributed; that of the chief revenue officer, who shared his house with his subordinate; and she would have gone into the other pilots' houses and the fishermen's huts, of which there might be perhaps a dozen, only that it was not necessary, as the people were all standing at their doors wherever she passed, and stretching out their hands to her--the rough, hairy hands of two or three invalided old sailors who crept out from the warm chimney-corners; powerful sunburnt hands from strong, sunburnt women; hard little hands from ruddy, flaxen-haired children, who looked up curiously with their blue eyes to the beautiful strange lady, and could not believe what their mothers told them, that she was no princess, but the Captain's betrothed, who was coming to live here always, and was so pleased with everything! And the Captain would come back, the women all said, though the storm was very high--the worst that Clas Rickmann remembered, and he was ninety-two years old, and so might be allowed to know something about it! The Captain knew what he was about, and he had got six men with him who knew what they were about; and last time they had been out three times in the new lifeboat without being upset once, and it was not likely to upset now, especially when his own sweetheart had come here to receive him when he returned.
So spoke all the women, in almost identical words, as if they had settled them together beforehand; and then they all had something pleasant to say about the Captain, who was even better than the last Superintendent, though he had been a good man too; and here again they all said pretty nearly the same thing, almost in the same words, with the same hearty expression and the same monotonous voices; but Elsa could have willingly heard it all repeated a thousand times, and thanked each one separately as if she heard it for the first time, and as if it were an announcement from heaven.
And then quite a crowd of women and girls accompanied her, with a still greater crowd of children running beside and after them, to the spot nearly at the end of the peninsula, where, on a high dune, signal-posts and beacons were erected, and behind the dune which still afforded some shelter--stood a close group of men in high sea-boots and sou'westers, looking out over the raging sea, who, as the young lady came up to them, pulled off their hats, while Clas Janssen, as the eldest, took upon himself to be spokesman, and to tell the young lady all about it; and all bent their heads eagerly to listen, and nodded, and when they turned away to spit, took great care to do it to leeward.
Then Clas Janssen related that this morning, as soon as it was light, a vessel, which was now at anchor round there in the bay, had come in and brought word that close to the Grünwald Oie a ship had run aground, and was flying signals of distress. There was so much surf at the spot, that only the mast was altogether visible, and the stern occasionally, and they had seen men clinging to the yards. The vessel--a small Dutch schooner--seemed well built, and might hold out for another hour or two, as it was on smooth sand, if only the heavy sea did not wash off the crew. From the Oie no one could get at them; an ordinary boat would be swamped at once by the waves. Half an hour later the lifeboat had been launched, with the Captain on board, and for three hours they had kept it in sight, as it worked against the wind, and had seen it at last in the surf near the Oie; but the sea was too high there, and the weather very thick, and so they had lost sight of it, even from the look-out above, and with the most powerful glass, and could not tell whether the Captain had got on board; anyway, it must be a tough job, as it had taken him so long; but the Captain would be sure to pull through. And now if the young lady would go in and let Frau Rickmann make her a cup of tea, they would bring her word when the boat came in sight; and as for their coming back again, she might make herself quite easy--the Captain knew what he was about, and the six men who were with him knew what they were about.
Elsa had smiled, not because the man had repeated again in the same words what the women had said to her, but because this confirmation from the mouth of an experienced man brought sweet peace to her heart; and she had shaken the man's rough hand and the hands of the other men, and had gone back to the houses with her escort of women and children; and while she talked to them--the storm blowing away half their words--she had always repeated to herself, "He knows what he is about, and the six men who are with him know what they are about!" half as a prayer which she durst not utter with her lips, half as a song of joy which she was ashamed to sing aloud.
Then she had gone to his house, which was soon to be hers; had drunk tea with her aunt, and had made her lie down to rest--for she was quite exhausted--in a small room, where as little as possible might be heard of the storm, and with a beating heart, like a child whose mother is leading it to the Christmas-tree, had gone over the whole house with Frau Rickmann, old Clas Rickmann's elderly granddaughter, the childless widow of a pilot, who managed Reinhold's house for him. It was a modest house, and modestly furnished; but she admired everything, as if she had been wandering through an enchanted palace. And how clean and tidy everything was! And how tasteful, when Frau Rickmann's province of kitchen and store-rooms was passed, and that of the Captain himself began! The furniture, as if she herself had been consulted in the choice of every article; the large writing-table, covered with books and carefully-arranged papers and pamphlets; and the handsome bookcase, with glass-doors, full of well-bound books, another case of mysterious nautical instruments, and a third with splendid shells, corals, and stuffed birds! Then Frau Rickmann opened the door of a little room which adjoined the study, and Elsa nearly exclaimed aloud: it was her own little room next to the drawing-room--the same carpet, the same blue rep covering to the sofa, the same chairs, the same corner looking-glass with a gilt console! And it had only one window too; and in the window was a small arm-chair, and in front of the chair a little work-table--all perfectly charming! And Elsa had to sit down in the chair because her knees shook under her, and to lean her head on the little table and shed a few joyful tears, and kiss the table for love of the man whose tender care seemed enfolding her here like a mantle, and who was now tossing about on the stormy sea which she could see from the window, and risking his precious life for the lives of others!
Meanwhile four o'clock had struck--although it was already so dark that it might have been six--and Frau Rickmann gave it as her opinion that it was high time to see about the Captain's dinner, if the ladies really would have nothing but tea and cakes. She said it as quietly as if the Captain were only rather late in returning from a quiet row on smooth water, though the storm at that moment was raging more wildly than ever, and the little house was shaken to its foundations.
Aunt Valerie, who could not sleep, came out of her room in terror, to be assured by Frau Rickmann that there was no cause for alarm, as the house would stand a good shaking, and Wissow Head sheltered them from the worst; and as for the flood, they stood like the other houses, fifty feet above high-water mark, and they might wait some time before the tide came up there!
Therewith Frau Rickmann went into the kitchen, after again ushering the ladies into the Captain's study; and here they now sat at the window, which also looked out to sea, each trying to turn her thoughts to that of which she knew the other's heart was full, from time to time exchanging a loving word or a pressure of the hand, till Elsa, noticing the growing uneasiness on her aunt's pale face, pressed for an immediate departure, if only on the ground that the darkness was gathering rapidly, and they could not possibly take the perilous journey back by night.
Frau Rickmann came in with her honest face glowing from the kitchen fire, and took her modest part in the deliberations. The ladies might as well wait another hour; it would not get darker now before sunset, and the Captain must come in now soon, if her dinner was not to be done to rags.
And Frau Rickmann had hardly spoken, when a finger knocked at the window, and a rough voice outside called: "Boat in sight!"
And then, it was in a bewildering, delicious dream, that Elsa ran down to the beach beside a man in high sea-boots and a curious-looking hat, who, as they ran, told her a long story of which she understood not a word, and she reached the place where she had gone on her arrival under the shelter of the dunes, and then went up on to the dune, where the beacon was now glimmering through the evening mist, amongst a number of other men in high waterproof boots and odd hats, who pointed to the sea and then spoke to her, without her again understanding a single word, and one of whom hung a great pea-jacket over her shoulders and fastened it securely, without her asking him for it or even thanking him. Then suddenly she saw the boat, which she had been looking for persistently, heaven knows where in the misty air, quite close to her; and then she was in another place where the beach was flat and the surf did not roar so fearfully, and she saw the boat again, which seemed now twice as big as it had been before, and the whole keel was lifted out of the white foam and sunk again, and rose a second time, while some dozens of the men ran into the foam which closed over their heads in spray. And a man came up through the ebbing waves, in high boots and just such another odd hat, and she gave a cry of joy and rushed towards him and threw her arms round him, and he lifted her up and carried her a little way, till she could set her feet again upon the sand; and whether he carried her again, or whether they flew, or walked on side by side, she never knew, and only saw him really when he had changed his clothes and was sitting at his dinner-table, while she poured him out glass after glass of wine, and her aunt sat by smiling, and Frau Rickmann went in and out and brought in mutton chops with steaming-hot potatoes, and ham and eggs, and he, though he never turned his eyes from her, ate everything with the hunger of a man who had not tasted food since seven o'clock that morning. There had been no time for that; it had been a nasty bit of work getting to the stranded vessel, and still worse to take off the poor men through the surf; but it had been successful; they were all saved, the whole eight of them. They had to be put ashore at Grünwald then, which was another difficult job, and had kept them a long time; but it could not be helped, the poor fellows who had been clinging to the rigging all night were in such a deplorable condition, but they would be all right now.
Intoxicated with the bliss of that flower of happiness which they had plucked from the edge of the abyss, they remarked now for the first time that Aunt Valerie had left them. Elsa, who had no secrets from her Reinhold, explained to him in a few words the poor thing's position, and that they had not now a moment to lose in starting on their disagreeable journey homewards.
"Not a moment!" cried Reinhold, rising; "I will give the necessary orders at once."
"They have already been given," said Valerie, who had heard the last words as she entered; "the carriage is at the door."
The noise of the wheels had been inaudible in the deep sand to the happy lovers, as had been also the approach of the rider, whom Aunt Valerie had seen from the window, and to receive whom she had left the room.
He was there; he ordered her to come! She knew it before she opened the letter which François handed to her. She had read the letter--in the little room to the left, standing at the open window, while François stood outside--and then the enclosure; and as she read the letter she had laughed aloud, and torn the paper into fragments, and thrown the fragments scornfully from the window, out into the storm which in a moment whirled them away.
"Madame laughs," said François, speaking French as he always did when he wished to be impressive; "but I can assure madame that it is no laughing matter, and that if madame is not back at the castle before six o'clock, something terrible will happen."
"I will come."
François bowed, swung himself into the saddle again, and--to the breathless astonishment of the village children who had been attracted by the unusual spectacle of a horseman--set spurs to his horse, and, with his head bowed almost to the saddle, dashed off, while Valerie begged Frau Rickmann to send for the carriage which had been put into the head pilot's barn up in the village, and then with a heavy heart went to separate the happy pair. But if she made up her mind to a last meeting with her dreaded, hated tyrant, it was only for the sake of those she loved, and for whom in the threatening catastrophe she would save whatever might still be possible to save! It would not be much--she knew his rapacity--but enough perhaps to secure her Elsa's future, to free poor Ottomar from his difficulties. And she smiled as she thought that even Elsa could believe she was thinking of herself in this matter, of her future!--Good God!
Elsa was ready at once, and Reinhold would not detain her by word or look. He would have dearly liked to go with her, but that was not to be thought of. He must not leave his post now for a single hour; at any moment duty might call upon him again.
And before Elsa had got her cloak on a pilot came in to bring news of the boat which had gone out at two o'clock after the steamer that had been signalled from Wissow Head, asking for a pilot. They had got out to sea in ten minutes and round the Head in half an hour; but the steamer was no longer there, and must meanwhile have doubled the Golmberg and got out to sea, as they had seen for themselves when they had passed the Golmberg. On their way back--about half-past four--they had been alarmed at seeing so much surf on the dunes between the Head and the Golmberg, and had kept inshore as much as possible, to make out if the sea had broken through there as the Captain had foretold. They could not make quite certain at first, just on account of the heavy sea; but when they went in closer still, so as to be sure, Clas Lachmund first, and then all the rest too, had seen two people on the White Dune, one of whom looked like a woman and had not moved, but the other--a man--had made signs to them. They could not reach them, however, try as they would, and might think themselves lucky that they got off again even, for they had run aground close by the White Dune, and had seen then for certain that the sea had broken in--north and south of the White Dune, and probably at other points too--for they could see nothing but water far inland. How far they could not say; the weather was too hazy. They must be in a bad way at Ahlbeck too; but they had not gone nearer in there, for the people there, with Wissow Head hard by, could be in no danger of losing their lives; but the two people on the White Dune would be in a very bad case if they could not be brought off before night.
"Who can the unfortunate people be?" asked Valerie.
"Shipwrecked folk; what else could they be!" answered Reinhold.
"Good-bye, my Reinhold," said Elsa; and then clinging to him, half laughing, half crying: "Take six more men with you who know what they are about!"
"And you will pledge me your word," said Reinhold, "that the carriage shall not drive down from the village to the castle, if from the height above you cannot see the road absolutely clear through the hollow!"
The two ladies were gone, and Reinhold got ready for his second expedition. It was not exactly his duty, any more than the morning's work had been; only none of the men--not even the best of them--quite knew how to handle the new lifeboat.
Those two people on the dune, however--he had not liked to say so to Elsa--but they could not be shipwrecked people, for any vessel that had gone ashore there would have been signalled long ago from Wissow Head. They could not well be from Pölitz's farm either, though that was close by, for Frau Rickmann had told him when he went to change his clothes, that Pölitz had sent back word by the messenger he had despatched to him, that he would send little Ernst and his men with the live stock to Warnow; but he could not go away himself, neither could Marie, and still less his wife, who had been confined last night, of a boy. Things could not be so bad with them either.
But things were serious now--very serious--and even if the head pilot Bonsak had a little exaggerated, as he did sometimes in similar cases, there was danger any way; danger for poor Frau Pölitz, who was kept to the house by the most sacred of duties; greater danger still for the two of whom he asked to know nothing but that they were fellow-creatures who without him must perish.