Martha was often busy looking at the pages of an album through a magnifying glass. This book contained a collection of mosses and ferns, which Julius had arranged for her. Underneath each specimen was noted the place from which it came and when it had been gathered; and there were always added the words "for Martha."
We were in almost daily receipt of postal cards from Julius, and with the same minuteness which he had shown in the album, he gave us the day, hour, and place of writing. Sometimes a sealed letter from him would also reach us. Martha let me read them, and only once did she blushingly cover a postscript with her hand. Conny called my attention to Martha; what a touching and hallowed vision she seemed to be, and how humbly and modestly she bore her life's great secret!
While I was examining the mosses, Martha told me, with radiant face and sparkling eyes, how she had become acquainted with Julius. She had danced with him at a country ball, but they had seen no more of each other.
On the next morning, as she and her sister were walking in the "Rockenthal" and were passing through the shrubbery, they suddenly came to a large pine-tree under which a hunter was sleeping. His dog sat at his side, and they motioned to him to remain quiet, while they both stood there examining the man's youthful, browned features and white brow. Martha summoned up her courage, seized his hat and took out the feathers, replacing them with a bunch of freshly gathered flowers. After this bold deed, the sisters fled to the shrubbery; but the dog barked, and the hunter awoke. He stared about him, seized his gun and hat, apparently puzzled to find the alteration that had been made, and uttered an energetic oath. He just caught sight of the two sisters in their light-blue summer dresses, as they disappeared in the shrubbery. He called after them, and they ran, until Martha stumbled over the root of a tree and fell. "Your voice is too good to swear with," said the sister who had remained standing, and then the young hunter pulled off his hat, and looked confused. Recovering himself immediately, he said, "It was not you, but your sister, who played the robber. She has the feathers yet. I--I thank you for the exchange." Then, as Martha handed him the feathers, and as he held his hat out towards her, he succeeded in touching her hand with his lips. He escorted the two girls through the woods, and starting with the joke of having caught them trespassing, they ended by having a merry talk. He soon begged Martha to sing, for he said that he could see that she, like him, was in the humor of singing. So these two began to sing their favorite songs, which, strangely enough, were the same; and when they reached the road, both of the sisters stretched out their hands to Julius. He held Martha's hand in his the longest, and from that moment their fate was fixed, and became more blissful every day.
He arranged the album while they were engaged. It was filled with the fondest memories, and even I learned much from it that was new to me. Each tree showed me new forms of existence, and in a little while I was able to forget, while contemplating these minute products of nature, the great commotion that was raging so near us. A bird is perched on the telegraph wire, while beneath it the most stirring news is passing silently and invisibly. I often regarded the wires that were stretched in front of my woods. Who knows the news that is flashing through them? We were soon to hear it.
CHAPTER VI.
"It thunders, booms, tumbles, and crashes; the mountains are falling, the world is coming to an end!"--thus did Carl's mother cry out in the village street. She refused to be comforted, and when she saw Martha in mourning, she began to shriek out: "Black! black! We shall all be charred to death!"
We succeeded at last in calming her, and then led her home, while round about us a noise like thunder seemed to come from the hills; although not a cloud was visible in the sky.
We knew that Strasburg was being bombarded. The fact was, that the sound of the cannonade struck against the rock behind the spinner's cottage, and rolled thence along the little valleys between the hills.
This lone woman, who could scarcely hear a man's voice, could distinctly perceive the roar of the artillery which shook her cottage.