CHAPTER XLVIII.
The wagons of the prisoners, together with Arwed's carriage containing Christine and her child, were approaching the end of their journey. On one side of them the smelting furnace of Oesterby was rolling its clouds of smoke high into the winter sky; before them towered the bald, dark-gray iron mountains of Danemora-Gruben, and already the few buildings which animate this desolate and uncomfortable region had become visible. A dragoon, who had been sent forward to announce their approach to the superintendent of the mines, now returned and led them to the nearest shaft, where a number of the miners had already assembled to receive the new comers and expedite them to their destined location under ground.
While the young miners were taking their stations at the windlass, and others were removing the robbers from the wagons, Christine drew Arwed aside.
'Arwed,' said the broken-hearted woman, 'you have always conducted yourself towards me in the noblest manner. Give me one more proof of your generosity and kindness, and thus crown your work. Allow me to descend into the mine with Mac Donalbain. My anxiety for him will be less painful when I am made acquainted with his new residence.'
'What an insensate request!' cried Mac Donalbain, who had overheard it, 'It will be much better that we take our last farewell here above ground.'
'Because I have once yielded to your importunities,' replied Arwed, 'you hold me for a weak simpleton, and think you can move and turn me at your pleasure. I have fulfilled your last request, and now I must obey your father's commands. Take your last leave of Mac Donalbain, and then return with me according to your solemn promise.'
'Hold me not so closely to my word,' entreated Christine. 'What would I not have promised for the happiness of beholding my husband some days longer! Let me descend with him.'
'You must now take your leave,' said Arwed sternly, 'and then immediately return with me to Gyllensten. My resolution is unchangeable.'
Christine looked wildly about her. The robbers were all in the tub ready to descend, and waited only for Mac Donalbain, who now embraced his wife with frantic sorrow. 'Farewell, and forgive me!' he cried, and hurried to the shaft.
'If thou hast ever loved,' shrieked Christine, clinging to Arwed's knees, 'suffer yourself this time, only this time, to be softened. Let me follow my husband. For this shall a wife leave father and mother. Hold God's word in honor, and permit an unhappy woman to descend into the bosom of the earth, from which she sprung.'