These moments were heavenly! alas! how soon were they interrupted by the most bitter recollections!—my uncle turned from the scene of our happiness, and enquired—“where he should find the Countess of Mayenfield!”—
Oh Heaven! what did I suffer at hearing that question! what did I suffer, when compelled to answer it! vainly should I attempt to describe Count Venosta’s situation, when informed of the loss of his beauteous Edith!
Men express grief and resentment in a different manner from us, helpless females. My narrative of Edith’s carrying off was followed not by idle complaints, but by active exertions to recover her. The wearied soldiery again seated themselves on horseback, and were ordered to scour the country round in pursuit of the ravishers. I was myself too much interested in the business to oppose my uncle’s orders; but Count Ethelbert, who retained more presence of mind than the rest, enquired, whither we should first direct our course in hopes of delivering the Countess?
—“Doubtless,” answered my uncle, “the place most likely to be converted into her prison must needs be the nearest fortress belonging to the perfidious Abbot; no one can doubt, that this misfortune is a work of his hand.”—
Here I interrupted him by stating, that I had heard the Seneschal very positively contradict this supposition; and I entreated, that before the expedition set out, the old domestic might be examined, as he seemed to possess more information on the subject, than he had yet imparted to me. Unfortunately, we found on enquiry, that shortly after my uncle’s arrival the Seneschal had expired of his wounds; and Count Venosta (who in the violence of his despair preferred acting upon uncertainties to remaining entirely idle) immediately entered upon his search after the unfortunate Edith. At the end of several months of fruitless enquiry, we were obliged to abandon all hopes of success.
It was during this period of anxiety, which seldom permitted my uncle and Ethelbert to lay aside their armour, that I received the name of Countess of Carlsheim. The ceremony was sad and solemn, prognosticating the days, which were so soon to follow it.
I was now the wife of my lover, and enjoyed that sort of happiness, which most women enjoy who marry a warrior-husband; I was the object of a wild tempestuous passion, whose expressions were sometimes so rough and violent, that they might have been mistaken for those of hatred. In truth, I had fancied, that the happiness of marriage was somewhat different; but alas! what girl does not fancy the same, and find at length that she has been deceived?
No information could be obtained respecting the Countess of Mayenfield. The Abbot of St. Gall persevered in asserting his claim to her possessions; and the deep melancholy, which took possession of my uncle, betrayed but too plainly, that his love for the dear lost-one was stronger, than he had dared to acknowledge either to her, or to himself.
—“My children,” said he one day to me and Ethelbert, “Edith is lost to me, and with her the joys of life! It was folly in me to expect on the brink of the grave, that I should be so singularly fortunate, as to feel my eyes closed by the hand of affection. I have suffered for that folly; I feel that my powers of life are hourly growing weaker, feel that the day of death is at hand. The few evening hours which remain, before the night of the grave closes around me, will I dedicate to solitude and repose. All that I possess is now your property; I only reserve for myself the pleasant vale of Munster, and the Castle of Upper Halbstein on the banks of the Rhine. I will hide myself in the distant shades of the first, when opprest by serious melancholy thoughts, and repair to the second, whenever more lively moments make me wish for the society and comfort of Ethelbert and his beloved Urania.”—
I opposed this determination of Count Leopold; but my husband did not second me. He saw, that this arrangement was greatly to his advantage; and I had already found on several occasions, that he was not quite so incapable of attention to his own interest, as I had formerly supposed. It by no means occurred to him, that Count Venosta proposed to do too much for us; on the contrary, he lost no time in giving solidity to my uncle’s kind declarations, and only appeared to lament, that the deed of gift had not included his whole property. The waving shades of the vale of Munster and the proud castle on the Rhine seemed to have acquired double charms in his eyes, since Leopold declared his intention of retaining them for himself; and their value was increased beyond bounds on Ethelbert’s being given to understand, that my uncle did not intend to leave them to us even at his death, but destined them for a bequest to that beloved woman, whom he could not resolve to give up all hopes of recovering.