'Certainly; I was at hand,' said Rüstow drily; 'and at need I can play the angel of rescue, though it is not my habitual occupation. There was not time for much reflection, and I soon gave up running after the carriage. Happily we had halted close to that steep footpath which shortens the way down by one half. How I got to the bottom I don't know. Anyhow, I was there as soon as the carriage, and just contrived to stop it as it reached the pond.'
'Thank God!' cried the old lady, with a sigh of relief.
'So said I, a little later on--just at that moment I was furious. There I stood with the Countess in my arms, and no one to give me any assistance. She had gone off into a swoon, and that fool of a man was so bewildered and scared, that he was nearly as unconscious as his mistress. Now, a pair of restive horses I can manage at a pinch, but fainting ladies are altogether out of my line. Presently, however, Hedwig came flying down the footpath, and then Anthony, and then the man who had been thrown--he was limping terribly, and had a famous bump on his forehead, but that served him right. It was his folly and reckless driving which had caused all the mischief.'
'And the Countess?' interposed his listener eagerly.
'Well, happily the Countess had escaped uninjured. We carried her into a neighbouring house belonging to one of the rural police, and here she partly recovered from her fright. The gentle, well-mannered horses, besides running away, had accorded to themselves the special pleasure of breaking their carriage-pole and of so injuring our wheels in the rencontre, that we could not move the landau from the spot. So I sent the footman over to Ettersberg to fetch another vehicle, despatched Anthony and the policeman, who happened to be at home, to the scene of the disaster, and dismissed the coachman with his black monsters, which he conducted home in safety. We three remained alone--it was a pleasing moment, as you may suppose.'
'I do hope and trust, Erich, that you did not behave with rudeness,' said Aunt Lina reproachfully.
'No, rudeness was out of the question--unfortunately!' replied Rüstow, in a tone of sincere regret. 'The Countess was still as pale as death and half fainting. I had received a slight memorial of the affair myself, a mere scratch on the arm, which, however, bled rather profusely; and the poor child, Hedwig, ran from one to the other, not knowing whom she should help first. In such a situation politeness comes as a thing of course. We were therefore intensely polite to each other, and intensely anxious about each other's welfare. I hoped the matter would blow over with an expression of thanks and a courteous farewell, and I was looking out, longing for the arrival of the Ettersberg carriage, when suddenly, instead of it. Count Edmund came up at a tearing gallop. From the footman's confused report he had thought that his mother was injured or half dead, and he had not waited for the carriage to be got ready, but had jumped on the first horse that came to hand and had ridden over as though his own life had been at stake. I should not have believed the young jackanapes had so much heart. He rushed into the house and into his mother's arms like a madman, and for the first moment or so he evidently saw and thought of no one but her. I must say that pleased me--pleased me much. He seems to be passionately attached to his mother.'
At this point the narrator's voice softened a little. Unfortunately his cousin took it into her head to produce her handkerchief and press it to her eyes, which at once roused the Councillor to a contrary humour.
'I do believe you are going to cry,' he said, turning upon her sharply. 'Let us have no nonsense of that sort, pray. There has been emotion enough and to spare. Well, of course there now ensued a string of questions and explanations,' he went on, taking up again the thread of his narrative; 'a lively description, in which, in spite of my protests, I was made to figure as a sort of hero and knight-errant. The Countess overflowed with gratitude, and all at once Edmund threw his arms round my neck, declaring I had saved his mother's life, and that he would rather owe such a debt to me, the father of his Hedwig, than to anyone in the world.' Here Rüstow's strides grew longer and his countenance more wrathful. 'Yes, that is what he had the coolness to say, "the father of his Hedwig"! I tried to shake him off; then Hedwig got the other side of me, and began the same story about the mother of her Edmund. Presently the Countess stepped up, and held out her hand to me--well, you can imagine the rest. As I said before, a general embracing and reconciliation went on, and we only came to our senses when the carriage, which had followed the Count, drove up to the door. As it further appeared that ours was totally disabled, we had no alternative but to mount all together and drive over to Ettersberg. It was agreed ultimately that Hedwig should remain with the Countess, who was really much upset by the fright she had had, and I ... well, here I am, left by myself in my own house, without a soul to keep me company.'
'Please to remember I count as somebody,' said Aunt Lina, a little piqued. 'You don't seem to reckon me at all.'