Eugénie still trembled slightly, and she drew a long breath of relief, but there was no other sign of the terrible alarm she must have undergone.
"I--I thank you. Pray look to Herr Berkow!"
Ulric, already turning to leave her, stopped with a shock of surprise. "Look to Herr Berkow," the young wife had said, at a time when most women would have called in anguish on their husband's name, and she had said it quite coolly and quietly. A dim notion of that which the gentlemen on the terrace had so freely discussed, dawned on the young man as he turned and went to look after "Herr Berkow."
This time there was, however, no need of his assistance. Arthur Berkow had got out of the carriage and crossed the bridge alone. The passive indifference of his nature had not belied itself during this critical time. When the danger had come upon them so unexpectedly, and his wife moved, as if about to spring out, he had laid his hand on her arm, and said in a low tone:
"Sit still, Eugénie; you are lost if you attempt to jump."
Then no further word was spoken. While Eugénie stood erect in the carriage, looking out for help, and resolved, at the last moment, to risk a spring, Arthur remained motionless in his place; as they neared the bridge, he just passed his hand over his eyes, and he would probably have allowed himself to be dashed to pieces with the carriage, if assistance had not been forthcoming at that decisive moment.
He now stood near the parapet of the bridge, perhaps a thought paler than usual, but perfectly steady, and without a trace of emotion; whether he had felt none, or whether he had already mastered it, Ulric was forced to confess to himself that such equanimity was, at least, something out of the common. The young heir had a moment ago looked Death full in the face, and now he stood, calmly scrutinising, as some curious phenomenon, the man whose energy had rescued him from mortal peril.
That help, which was no longer needed, poured in now on all sides. Twenty hands were busy raising the horses and helping down the coachman, still half stupefied with fright. The entire swarm of officials pressed round the young couple, giving utterance to their regrets, their sympathy, their profound sorrow. They fairly exhausted themselves with questions and offers of assistance, wondering how the accident could possibly have happened, ascribing it alternately to the report of the guns, to the driver and to the horses. Arthur stood a few minutes passive, and let the stream flow over him. Then he stayed it with a gesture.
"Enough, gentlemen, pray! You see we are both unhurt. Let us now go on to the house."
He offered his arm to his wife to lead her away, but Eugénie stood still and looked around.