CHAPTER XII.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and the shadows of twilight began to gather on the gloomy sky. Agatha brought in a lamp, and all retired save Carmen; thus leaving her and her father alone together, undisturbed. Mauer lay quiet, with his eyes half closed; while his daughter sat holding his hand in a loving clasp, her head buried in the coverlid. In the stillness which prevailed in the chamber of death, the door was heard to open, and some one entered noiselessly; but the draught caused by the open window closed the door sharply behind the visitor. Mauer opened his eyes at the sound, and looked up vacantly as if he did not recognize Jonathan. Carmen also raised her head; but when she saw who it was, she immediately hid her face again, for she felt it quite impossible to speak to him now. Kneeling between the bed and the wall, her form was completely hidden in the dark shadow.
"Brother Mauer, I have just returned from the Country, and hear that you have been ill. What is the matter?" asked Jonathan.
At the sound of his voice, the sick man shivered as if from an icy breath of wind. He stared at the physician with dilated eyes.
"Brother Jonathan," he faltered, "the end has come, and the old, dark story will be laid with me in the grave. I know I have sinned grievously, but have atoned with a life of repentance and cruel suffering for the murder of an inoffensive wife."
As the old man spoke, Jonathan looked at him sharply and searchingly. The light of the lamp shone on his altered features, which bore the stamp of death. The physician seized his hand; the pulse was almost gone; there was no possibility of saving his life; each moment brought the end nearer. Then Jonathan's hate, revenge, and scorn broke loose, and flashed unrestrained from his eyes, which were fixed on the figure lying before him. For twenty years he had hated this man more than any other on earth; and for twenty years he had been obliged to put on the hypocrisy of love towards him. What a trial for his hot, seething passion! At the last, the moment had now come when his enemy was in his power, and he could throw up his visor and show his real face! Now was the time to crown his revenge, before the object of it passed entirely out of his reach forever.
Jonathan glanced hastily around the quiet darkened chamber, to convince himself that they were alone. He saw no one; the faint light showed only the pale features of the dying one pressed against the pillow. It was not possible that any one could be there! Old Ursula, the only other occupant of the house, had retired to the kitchen to weep and lament; and having passed directly up from the front door to the sick-room, he was ignorant of the presence of others in the dwelling.
Then Jonathan gave free play to his wild rage. "Murderer of your wife?" he said scornfully. "Fool! if it had been only the drops you gave her, she would be alive now; but nothing could have saved her. In the hurry of that night, Thomas, being just roused from sleep, gave you the other man's medicine, and handed yours to him. What you had was only good for infants; and Sister Julie might have drunk the whole bottleful without injury."
Mauer's gaze wandered uncertainly towards the speaker; a shudder passed over his dying form, and his brain made a powerful effort to penetrate the mists gathering over it.
"I did not kill Julie, and you knew it and never told me?" he stammered, with fast-failing voice.
"Certainly I knew it; but did you ever ask me about it? The other man had more forethought than you, and read the label before administering the dose to his child; and when he saw the name, he brought it back at once. It was two hours before he could get to my house again, and then Thomas had to prepare fresh medicine. Then I took the opium-drops intended for Sister Julie, and jumped on my horse; for although I knew she never could recover, I wanted to fulfil my duty as a physician, and do all I could to correct my servant's mistake. But I found her already dead; yes, from all appearances she must have been dead several hours. When I asked how that could have resulted from the drops, and saw your disturbed countenance, and how you became pale and faint, I thought you must have meditated the death of your wife, and with such design had given her a double dose which you intended should be fatal. I put the vial in my pocket, so that my servant's blunder might not be brought up against him or me. But Mauer," cried Jonathan, in a voice of frenzy, "when I stood by Don Manuel's death-bed and discovered your guilty love for Inez, while your wife stood in your way, everything became clear to me."
"You knew, Brother Jonathan, that I was bearing all the tortures of remorse, and yet gave me no word of explanation?" whispered the unhappy victim.
"That is not surprising. Do you know what hate is? You knew that I loved Inez. Can you imagine how I must have hated you who robbed me of her?" continued Jonathan, pitilessly.
"Yes, I knew you looked on yourself as a murderer! It answered my purpose not to have you think otherwise. It was sweet to me to see how this thought tortured you; it was a great satisfaction to know I held you in my power, like a butterfly on a needle, which it cannot get away from, and yet which remains quiescent and kills it painfully and slowly. Do you think I would not have brought you to justice if it had been true? Surely I would not have failed to do it; but Thomas, who knew all the circumstances and was with me in the mission, is here; he would have witnessed against me, had I accused you before the public. But I knew how to revenge myself on you for having stolen Inez from me, and for refusing me Carmen's hand. Your life must pay for Inez; your death will rob Carmen, as you have willed away your fortune from her for your supposed crime and left it to our community. Thus you will die at last, filled with regret at having wasted a life in unnecessary penance, and your silent lips will now take the old, dark story into the grave. I, however, will always feel an inward sense of triumph and delight that it was my foot which crushed you!"
He was silent, and stood with folded arms, looking down gloatingly on Mauer. He did not observe that in the shadow between the wall and the bed a head was raised. Suddenly a dark form rose, shadowy and indistinct. Jonathan grew pale. "Inez!" he gasped, and shrank back.
"No. Carmen; who has heard your cruel words, so that the silent lips shall not take the dark story of your wickedness to the grave. Wretch! devil incarnate! Can the earth hold such infamous scum? and has Heaven no lightning with which to strike you dead? Oh, father, my poor, persecuted father! There are no words to tell what you have suffered through this man!" And she threw herself again by the bed, and cast her arms about her dying parent.
But a glorious light of heavenly peace had settled on those pale features. With newly-acquired strength, he returned his daughter's embrace, raised his hands, and cried with accents of joy: "Child, rejoice, praise the Lord with me, for your father can now appear before his Judge, innocent of this crime. Blessed be God forever—amen!"
He stretched out his arms and sank back; one more sigh, as if the liberated soul were unfolding its wings to be borne on the breeze to heaven, and he lay still and peaceful in his daughter's arms.
With heart-rending sobs, she rained kisses on his hands, his lips, his brow; then closing his weary eyes, she whispered tenderly, amid scalding tears, "Dear father, sleep sweetly; you have earned it well!"
Some movement in the chamber of death attracted Carmen's notice, despite her overwhelming sorrow. She started up quickly. Who dared to intrude upon her thus? It was Jonathan, who was trying to make his escape from the room.
"Jonathan Fricke!" she cried, drawing herself up to her full height and at her call he seemed as if rooted to the ground. She passed around the bed, stepped to the table, and moved the lamp so as to throw a brighter light over the calm, placid features of the dead, around whose mouth a happy smile still lingered.
"Look on that face!" she said in a voice of command. Her face was all ablaze with righteous indignation, and she stood menacingly, but wondrously beautiful, before him, like an avenging angel ready to plunge the criminal down into the depths of hell.
"Do you see this holy, peaceful rest? Will you be able, some day, to lie down thus when the Lord demands an account of your life? You turn away your eyes, but you will never succeed in banishing the image of this face from your memory; it will haunt you wherever you go, by day and by night; its perpetual presence will be my father's revenge here below, and his accusation above, before the throne of judgment."
Humiliated and cowed, Jonathan stood motionless before the scathing contempt of this noble woman.
"Do not think my father concealed his fault from me," she continued, her voice growing deeper and more threatening, as if the indignation surging up within her had lent it new power. "I know everything. I know how it happened; that, in a moment of weakness and temptation, the evil spirit drew near and enticed him. But he sinned in thought only; the All-merciful prevented the deed. How does his sin compare with yours, in the eyes of the One above?"
"I beseech you," began Jonathan in a cringing tone, "do not expose me to the community."
"Go!" she replied. "I will cast no slur on my father's memory by accusing you. Vengeance belongs to God alone."
She began to feel her strength giving way. The terrible agitation of her soul had exhausted her powers. At that moment she looked towards the open door which led to the next room, and saw Alexander and Agatha. She put her hands out to her husband as if seeking support and comfort and as he hastened towards her, she sank half-fainting on his breast.
"Carmen, my darling, my precious wife, this is a heavy sorrow which you have borne so long!" he said gently.
Agatha approached the bed and laid a linen cloth over the face of the one who had found rest at last.
"Carmen," she said, "your accusation is not needed. I will witness before the elders against this man, that he may no longer remain among us with his hypocritical piety and humility."
Jonathan looked at her bewildered.
"Is hell let loose?" he exclaimed, stamping his foot with rage. "Have you all conspired to destroy me?"
"Disturb not the dead with your unseemly words!" commanded Agatha. "To him mercy will be shown; but you, Jonathan, will be condemned here and in the world to come. Go!" She pointed to the door. He attempted to answer, but she cut his words short and repeated her command, "Go!"
After a moment's hesitation he disappeared out into the darkness.
Shortly after this dreadful scene, the sound of the trumpets announced to the people that Brother Mauer was dead; and soon it was noised abroad that Brother Jonathan had committed a great crime against the deceased, and the council of elders were seeking for him, to bring him to justice and punishment. Great excitement followed among these quiet Moravians, but Brother Jonathan was nowhere to be found. His disappearance was considered a proof of his guilt, and wherever the Brothers were stationed, in all parts of the world, notice was sent to them of Jonathan's crime, so that he would not be able to impose himself upon them, anywhere, as a Brother. He was publicly expelled from the faith, and it was decided by the council that the money left by the departed to his brethren, as an atonement for his sin, should be transferred to his daughter; but the Trautenaus preferred to let it go where the will had provided it should.
* * * * * *
With the first snow which fell about this time, a long and severe winter set in, which held the world bound for several months in ice and snow. But at last the mild south wind blew with its life-giving breath, and melted the icy mantle which had enveloped all things.
The thawed waters of the alder-pond then gave up from its depths a disfigured corpse, which had been concealed beneath its frozen surface during the severe season. It was the body of Brother Jonathan Fricke. The worthy laborer who chanced to find it was impressed with the idea that Jonathan had sought for salvation in its waters.
Had the guilt-laden man lost his way in the fogs of winter, and met his death by accident, or was he driven thither by a torturing conscience?