Meanwhile, Waltenberg stayed with his betrothed, who asked him, "You spoke with Gronau, then?"
"Yes, and I took no pains to conceal my surprise at finding him here, since he had not been to see me in Heilborn, or informed me of his return. In reply he begged me to see him this evening: he has something to tell me, which he says concerns me in a certain sense. I am really curious to know what it is. He is not wont to be oracularly mysterious. Look, Erna, how dark and threatening the sky is above the Wolkenstein. Will that storm not overtake us?"
"Hardly to-day," said Erna, with a glance towards the veiled mountain-top. "To-morrow perhaps, or the day after. In spite of our fine autumn, the tempests which our poor mountaineers so dread seem to be setting in earlier than usual. We had a forerunner of them last night."
"There must be something more than fable in the magic power of your Alpine Fay," Ernst said, half in jest. "That cloudy peak, which is well named, for it scarcely ever unveils, has actually cast a spell around me. It allures and attracts me with a mysterious, wellnigh irresistible charm, tempting me to lift the veil of the haughty Ice-Queen, and to snatch from her the kiss hitherto denied to mortals. If one should try that precipice on this side----"
"Ernst, you promised me to give up all such ideas forever," Erna interposed.
"And I will keep my word. I promised you on St. John's eve."
"On St. John's eve," the girl repeated, softly, dreamily.
"Do you remember that evening when I yielded to your request? I had resolved firmly upon an ascent of the Wolkenstein, but my resolution vanished before the entreaty in your eyes,--your words. Would you really have been distressed had I then disobeyed you?"
"But, Ernst, what a question!"
"It would not have been incumbent upon you then to be so; I was not then your declared lover." There was again the old tormenting jealousy in his voice. "You would probably have been distressed about Sepp or Gronau if either of them had undertaken the ascent. I mean that trembling anxiety which only assails one where one dearly loved is concerned,--a dread before which all else pales and vanishes,--the distress which would drive me blindly to encounter any danger if I knew you exposed to it. I suppose you know nothing of that?"