Eric rode on, and now sought to put in a right point of view all that he had experienced, so that he might gain the strength necessary to bear up under coming events. How much had happened to him and to others since he rode out from Wolfsgarten to Villa Eden? Every thing passed through his soul, and he breathed deep in silent satisfaction as he thought what would have been his condition now, if he had not exerted all his strength to bring himself into right relations with Bella. How different would it be, were he riding now with a soul torn by conflicting feelings, unable to help wishing for Clodwig's death in order that he might get possession of Bella, and obliged to stand like the most abject hypocrite by the bedside of the dying one. No poet yet has ventured to depict the mental state of two people who expect to base their happiness on the news of another's death; and these, no criminals but cultivated, and intelligent.
Eric looked upon himself as one rescued from destruction. Never was a man possessed by more pious emotions than Eric was now, as, stopping, he said to himself,—
"I thank thee, thou Eternal and Ineffable Spirit; for it is not I who have, through my education and inherited tendencies, become what I am. I am now pure; I will not be unworthy of it, but keep myself pure and innocent."
Wanting to get rid, finally, of his thoughts and speculations, he spoke to the messenger, an old confidential servant of the Wolfsgarten family. The messenger related how Clodwig had come home from Villa Eden in company with the Banker, and how they had thought he would have died at that time.
The servant turned round, and, pointing with his whip to Villa Eden, said, "There's no queerer state of things anywhere than in this world." In the midst of his deep distress, Eric could not help laughing aloud at this odd remark.
"Is any one of the relatives at Wolfsgarten?"
"No: the Jew is the only one there. But he is a friend of our master."
Eric regretted that he had entered into conversation with the servant, for he could not restrain him from talking about what he thought would be done, if the gracious master should die.
At the last hill, Eric dismounted, and walked over the wooded height. It was all still. The hornbeam tree, which first leaves out, was now the first to let fall its yellow leaves: there was a rustling and a low crackling in the wood, and only the hawk screeched above on the height.
Eric came in front of the manor-house, and entered the courtyard. He went to Bella, who looked pale and as if suffering severely. He entered just at the moment that Bella was asking her brother of the news at Villa Eden.