CHAPTER XXX.
The last rays of the setting sun trembled on the heaving water in crimson light, and crimson light glittered on the nodding grass of the broad swamp that stretched from the western shore to the downs, and bathed the figures of Gotthold and Jochen Prebrow, who, coming up from the narrower strip of ground that rose from the eastern beach, had just reached the highest point of ground. Gotthold, shading his eyes with his hand, was already gazing into the fiery sea, while Jochen kept pushing the spy-glass in and out of its case. At last he found the narrow mark on the glittering brass. "Here," said he, handing the glass to his companion, and then added as if to apologize: "One can see a devilish long ways with it."
"My good fellow!" replied Gotthold smiling.
Jochen showed his white teeth, and then both suddenly grew very grave again. Gotthold looked through the glass as eagerly as if he were actually trying to see the boat, which had sailed four hours before with a fair wind, and must now surely be off Sundin, if not already in the harbor, and Jochen was as downcast as if he had seen the round cheeks of his Stine, who positively insisted upon accompanying Frau Brandow for the last time.
But the worthy fellow was not thinking of himself. He could do without his Stine for a few days or weeks, if necessary, and things generally went so pleasantly with him that he had more than once doubted whether he was not too well off; but his poor, poor Herr Gotthold! O Heavens! how they looked at each other when she was going to get into the boat, and they shook hands on the bridge once more; with such large, wide-open eyes, which were full of tears! And then when she reached the boat, she instantly rushed down into the cabin, where Stine had carried the child, and then, as the wind took the sails and the boat began to move, came out again, and stood leaning on the old gentleman's arm, waving her handkerchief, with her big wide eyes looking steadily towards him, though she certainly could see nothing through her tears.
"But the boat is as good as any that can be found," said Jochen, "and as for my father-in-law, he was glad to get something to do again, and my brother Clas is a wonderfully clever fellow, and has often been in Sundin. He can take good care of them all; he said he knew where Wollnow lived, too, and one can depend upon the old gentleman, and nobody can do more than he can; and when one has done everything within the bounds of human possibility, he has done all he can."
Jochen drew a long breath; he was astonished himself to find how he could talk to-day--even his Stine would have done no better--and Herr Gotthold had said nothing at all--what could he say against it? Jochen continued in a still more persuasive tone: "And so you mustn't be so sad, Herr Gotthold, for the night doesn't last all the time, and unexpected things often happen, and when a horse once gets the bit between its teeth, a man may pull his arms off, but it will run away for all that; and what a horse can do, a man can too."
"I shall not fail, Jochen," replied Gotthold, "and I am no longer wretched, for I know I shall fight my way through, although it is a difficult matter so long as we don't have Scheel. But I think we shall get the fellow yet; at least he isn't dead, and that is the main thing."
Jochen Prebrow shook his great head. "It's a damned, miserable business, Herr Gotthold," said he. "Old Arent in Goritz saw him a week ago,--well, he certainly knows him, for the old man was at Dahlitz till Hinrich Scheel drove him away, but at night all cats are gray, and besides--there are so many chances of getting away from here by sea to Sweden or Mechlenburg or elsewhere. Therefore, it is very probable that he came here; but that he could be here still--no, that I don't believe."
The crimson glow which blazed in the western horizon had faded, and as they turned towards the east in descending from the summit of the down, the sea from the shore to the farthest horizon spread before them in a deep blue expanse, against which the white sand of the beach was relieved with singular distinctness. The chain of downs, upon whose highest point they had just been standing, stretched towards the north in a vast confused mass, which in the twilight seemed endless, here overgrown with coarse grass and broom, yonder in dreary baldness, rounded, lengthened, flattened, with sharp overhanging edges, like a sea which, while lashed by a tempest, had suddenly been converted into sand. Yonder, where the western shore projected farthest--Wiessow Point they called the narrow tongue of land--a roof, just visible to the eye, appeared above the downs, and Jochen Prebrow pointed towards it with his spy-glass.
"Do you see that house?"
"A part of it."
"That's where the Rahnkes live; I shouldn't like to be in their skins to-day."
"Why, what is going on there?" asked Gotthold.
"Another of the good chances," continued Jochen, involuntarily lowering his voice, although, as far as the eye could reach, no living creature was to be seen except the sea-gulls hovering over the waves. "They pretend to be fishermen, and when we were under Swedish rule also had the right to sell liquor, and say they have it still. But that is probably only a rumor in order to have a reason why every moment boats run in full of people, who, like the Rahnkes, call themselves fishermen, and have just as little right to the name. There must often be a half-dozen there at once, the custom-house officers say, and when they come--either by land or water--all are away, just run out to sea. They have kept watch here on the downs, and cruised in the offing for days together; but then no boat has ever arrived except some innocent fishing-smack, and the Rahnkes have stood and laughed when the officers were disappointed again. But they'll get paid for it to-night."
"What, this evening?"
"I really ought not to tell, but it's different with you, and besides they must certainly be there already. Do you see the three sails standing towards the north? Those are Uselin fishing-boats, and this is the right time and the right course; but they have no fishermen in them, but custom-house officers in peajackets and southwesters, and when they are near enough they will heave to and stop close by Wiessow Point, and the moment they heave to, a dozen custom-house officers and gendarmes will come marching, marching up from the land-side. I have it all from Herr Inspector from Sundin, who has already spent two days in Wiessow, and I'm an old acquaintance of his, because I've often driven him to different places; so he told me about it. Look! Herr Gotthold, look! there it begins."
Jochen, with an eagerness most unusual to him, pointed towards the three vessels, which, in fact, after holding their course in line directly towards the north, suddenly tacked and stood towards the land. At the same moment, two boats that must hitherto have lain concealed behind Wiessow Point appeared, and it was soon evident that they wished to escape between the coast and the three vessels, while the foremost was trying to cut them off. But it was already doubtful whether it would succeed, as it had a longer distance to run before reaching the point where the two courses crossed, and the smugglers sailed quite as fast, besides laying closer to the wind. In fact, at the end of ten minutes, a small gray cloud that rose from the pursuing boat, followed at shorter and shorter intervals by other little gray clouds, showed that the custom-house officers were beginning to despair of the success of the chase, and soon the cessation of the firing proved it had failed. The smugglers already looked like a mere speck on the horizon, the pursuing boat had tacked, and was standing back towards Wiessow Point, where the two others had arrived long before, "probably, with the men who now came hurrying up from the land-side, to find the nest empty once more," Gotthold said to himself.
"The damned rascals!" cried Jochen Prebrow.
They had been standing at the top of one of the higher downs, eagerly watching the exciting spectacle, every separate phase of which was as distinct to the two sons of the coast as if they had been in the midst of the action. In this the excellent spy-glass had done them essential service; it had been passed from hand to hand, and Gotthold had just taken it. He thought, if Jochen's information was correct, they must at least see some of the custom-house officers on the farthest downs, and slowly turning from hillock to hillock was searching the ground before him, already growing dim in the mists of evening, when he heard a low exclamation. At the same moment, however, he dropped the spy-glass, and pulled Jochen away from the crest of the down, so that their heads were concealed by the long waving grass.
"What is it?"
"Hinrich Scheel! I saw him distinctly. He was standing about a thousand paces away on the top of yonder down, with his back towards us."
"How is that possible?"
"I don't know; but it was he; I should know him among a thousand: there he is again."
But it was not on the same down, but farther to the right, and, as it seemed to Gotthold, nearer than before; besides, the man, in whom through the spy-glass Jochen also thought he recognized Hinrich Scheel, was no longer standing erect, but crouching behind the crest of the down, like the two companions, gazing in the direction of the Rahnkes' house, from which he had come. At least Gotthold did not doubt it. The whole situation instantly grew plain to him. Hinrich Scheel, in some way or other, had been delayed in his flight, and found in the Rahnkes' house, which, according to Jochen's description, was nothing more than a den of thieves, a shelter, from which the attack of the custom-house officers had just driven him. He had now fled before them to the downs, and had every prospect of making his escape even if pursued, since the approaching darkness and extreme inequality of the soil greatly favored his designs.
Jochen was entirely of Gotthold's opinion, but what should they do now? Wait to see whether Hinrich, who was still lying motionless in the same spot, would continue his flight in the same direction, and so come nearer and nearer to them, or make the attempt to crawl up to him, as he evidently expected no danger from this quarter? Both plans were almost equally uncertain. The darkness was now increasing very rapidly: at his present great distance the man would soon look like a mere dark spot on the light sand, and must disappear entirely in a short time; on the other hand, he need only glance around, if they were not wholly concealed, and then the next instant would surely slide from the down on which he lay, and of course overtaking him could not be thought of.
Gotthold's heart throbbed as if it would burst, as he thought of all this, and discussed it with Jochen in a whisper. In all probability, his fate and hers depended upon his getting yonder man into his power. A few moments before, he had had scarcely the shadow of a hope that he would ever succeed in doing so; now an almost miraculous chance seemed to desire to aid him. There was the man, and here he himself with his faithful Jochen, the space that separated them so short that it could be crossed in a few minutes, and yet the turning of an eye, a breath of wind, a nothing, might tear his prey from him, as if he had only dreamed all this, as if it were but a delirium of his excited fancy, and he need only rub his eyes, and the dark spot yonder, which seemed to be a man, would disappear.
He had disappeared. Had he seen the pursuers approaching from that side, and continued his flight, or had he thought the way was now open and he could begin his retreat? The place where he had just lain was empty. A mistake was impossible, in spite of the dim twilight the crest of the down was still sharply relieved against the sky. Would he appear again? And would it be nearer or farther?
A few seconds elapsed, during which the two men did not venture to breathe. There! There he was again, and nearer--considerably nearer; he seemed to be coming directly towards them, and there could no longer be a doubt of it. Within a few minutes the distance had lessened at least one-half; they scarcely dared to look through the waving sedges, necessary as it was to watch the movements of the man, who even at the last moment might take another direction. And now he glided down the slope of the next hillock in the chain, and came straight up the down behind whose crest they lay. It was the highest of them all, and he probably wished to look around him a short time, in order to assure himself that no danger was threatening from any quarter.
They had slipped down a few feet, and crouched as closely as possible among the sedges. In a few moments Hinrich Scheel's head must appear before them; they distinctly heard him toiling up the tolerably steep slope on the other side, and muttering curses when the sand gave way under his feet.
"Now!"
They started up, and darted to the summit. With a lightning-like movement Hinrich glided from under Gotthold's hands, but as he turned to the left ran directly into Jochen's arms, and the two in one indistinguishable ball, slipped, rolled, and tumbled down the hillock faster than Gotthold could follow them. Jochen had taken a firm hold, but in the last turn he fell underneath; with a desperate effort Hinrich released himself, and was dealing a furious blow with a large clasp-knife he had drawn from his pocket, when Gotthold seized his arm and turned the weapon aside. Jochen had already started up again, and the next instant Hinrich Scheel, in his turn, was lying on the sand, face downwards, and Jochen, kneeling on his shoulders, was in the act of tying his elbows behind him with a small rope, which, after the manner of old coachmen, he always carried about with him.
"If you tie me, you'll crush me at the same time," gasped Hinrich Scheel. "I won't get up."
"Release him," said Gotthold.
"But we'll take care of this ourselves," said Jochen as he drew a pistol from the pocket of the prostrate man, and handed it to Gotthold. "There!"
Hinrich Scheel stood erect. His squinting eyes stared horribly at his assailant from a face distorted with rage. Suddenly he started back.
"You," he cried, "you! What do you want of me?"