you know what wealth he possesses? He has six million florins in landed property in this country paid for in cash, free from all incumbrances. I have the writings in hand. It was he who forestalled me always in the best purchases. Besides this, he has in his portfolio bills of exchange on Mr. Thomas Jones for above three millions and a half of florins.”—“He must have pilfered at a pretty rate.”—“That’s all nonsense. He has hoarded wisely, where others foolishly squandered.”—“But a man who has worn a livery!”—“Folly! he has an irreproachable shadow!”—“You are right, but—”
The man in the great coat laughed and looked full in my face. The door opened, and Mina came out; she was supporting herself on her maid’s arm; silent tears were flowing over her pale and lovely cheeks. She sat down in a chair placed for her under the lime-trees, and her father seated himself beside her. He gently seized her hand, and while she wept still more bitterly, addressed her in the gentlest accents.
“Thou art my best, my dearest child; thou wilt be prudent too; thou wilt not grieve thy old father, who thinks only of making thee happy. I well understand, my sweet girl, that
this has sadly shaken thee; thou hast wonderfully escaped from misery. Before the shameless cheat was unveiled, thou lovedst that unworthy one most affectionately. I know it, Mina, but I do not reproach thee. I, too, loved him, while I deemed him to be a rich and noble man. But thou hast seen in what it ended. The veriest vagabond has his own shadow; and shall my beloved, my only daughter, be married to—Oh, no! thou thinkest of him no more. Listen, my Mina: a lover addresses thee, who does not dread the sun; an honourable man, who is no Count indeed, but who possesses ten millions, ten times more than thou hast ever possessed; a man who will make my beloved child happy. Do not oppose me; make no reply; be my good, obedient daughter. Let thy affectionate father care for thee, and dry thy tears. Promise me to give thy hand to Mr. Rascal; say, wilt thou promise me?”
She answered with a dying voice, “I have no farther will nor wish on earth; let my father’s will be accomplished!” On this Mr. Rascal was announced, and daringly joined the circle. Mina lay in a swoon. My hated evil genius fixed his eyes angrily on me, and whispered in these rapid words, “Can you bear
that too? What runs in your veins instead of blood?” With a swift motion he made a slight wound in my hand—blood gushed forth: he cried, “Red blood, truly! sign.” The parchment and the pen were in my hand.
CHAPTER VII.
I shall expose myself, dear Chamisso, to your criticism, and not seek to elude it. I have long visited myself with the heaviest judgment, for I have fed the devouring worm in my heart. This terrible moment of my existence is everlastingly present to my soul; and I can contemplate it only in a doubting glance, with humility and contrition. My friend, he who carelessly takes a step out of the straight path, is imperceptibly impelled into another course, in which he will be deluded farther and farther astray. For him in vain the pole-star twinkles in the heavens; there is no choice for him; he must slide down the declivity, and offer himself up to Nemesis. After the false and precipitate step which had brought down the curse upon me, I had daringly thrust myself upon the fate of another being. What now remained, but where I had sowed perdition, and prompt salvation was urgent—again blindly to rush forward to save?—for the last knell had tolled. Do not think so basely of me, my Chamisso, as
to imagine that I should have thought any price too dear, or should have been more sparing with anything I possessed than with my gold? No! but my soul was filled with unconquerable hatred towards this mysterious sneaker in crooked paths. Perhaps I might be unjust to him, yet my mind revolted against all communication with him. But here, as often in my life, and generally in the history of the world, an accident rather than an intention, determined the issue. Afterwards I became reconciled to myself. I learnt, in the first place, to respect necessity, and those accidents which are yet more the result of necessity than any will of our own. Then was I also taught to obey this necessity, as a wise arrangement of Providence, which sets all this machinery in action, in which we only co-operate by moving and setting other wheels in motion. What must be, will happen; what should have been, was; and not without the intervention of that Providence, which I at last learnt to reverence in my fate, and in the fate of her who controlled mine.
I know not if I should ascribe it to the strain of my soul under the pressure of such mighty emotions, or to the exhaustion of my physical strength, weakened by the unwonted abstinence