Erna uttered no word of reproof, but this utter selfishness inspired her with horror. Down below there, hundreds were expending their utmost force to preserve a bold creation upon which they had laboured for years; enormous sums of money were at stake, and, moreover, the poor mountaineers were threatened with the loss of their little all. Ernst had not one word of compassion or of sympathy in view of this calamity; he regarded it all as a very interesting spectacle, and if he experienced any other sensation, it was satisfaction that the work of his enemy was menaced with ruin.
And this man would force her to spend an entire, long life at his side; she must belong to him body and soul; and should she rebel and try to break the chain which she had almost involuntarily allowed to be thrown around her in a moment of surprise, he threatened her with the death of him whom she loved, and thus disarmed her. He had found a menace before which all defiance, all opposition, vanished.
The president's voice was heard in the next room giving orders in an agitated tone, and the next moment he appeared, very pale, and evidently retaining his composure only by a great effort. According to the latest intelligence, the worst was to be apprehended; he wanted to go down himself and see how matters stood with the railway. Waltenberg immediately declared his intention of accompanying him; and, turning to his betrothed, he asked, as quietly as if nothing special had passed between them, "Will you not come too, Erna? We shall ride to those places that are in the greatest peril. I know you are not afraid."
Erna hesitated for a few seconds, and then hastily consented. She must see what was going on; she could not wait and watch here, looking out into the driving mist which veiled everything, and only hearing reports from the scene of disaster. They were going to the places in the greatest peril; Wolfgang would be there. She should at least see him!
Molly, who did not understand how any one could venture out in such weather, looked after them, shaking her head, as they rode away. Even the president was on horseback, for in the present condition of the roads the mountain conveyances were quite useless; the stout mountain-ponies had much ado to get over the ground through the thick mud. The little party rode on in oppressive silence; now and then Waltenberg made a brief remark, which was scarcely heeded. They took their way first to the Wolkenstein bridge.
CHAPTER XXIV.
[THE AVALANCHE.]
The Wolkenstein had shrouded its crest more closely than ever: heavy clouds were encamped about its peak and floated around its cliffs; wild glacial torrents were rushing down from its ice-fields, and blasts of wind raged over it day and night. The Alpine Fay was extending her sceptre over her domain; the savage queen of the mountains was revealed in all her terrific might, in all her terrible majesty.
The autumnal tempests had often been disastrous: more than once they had brought freshets and avalanches; many a village, many a lonely mountain-range, had suffered; but such a catastrophe as this had not occurred in the memory of man. Strangely enough, the hamlets were comparatively spared; the storms and floods threatened the railway, which, following the course of the stream, traversed the entire Wolkenstein district, and with its myriad bridges and structures offered many a point for attack.
The engineer-in-chief had, with his accustomed foresight and energy, adopted precautionary measures from the first. The entire force of labourers was called out to protect the railway; the engineers were at their posts day and night. Elmhorst seemed to be everywhere at once. He flew from one threatened spot to another, exhorting, commanding, inspiring courage, and exposing himself recklessly to danger. His example fired the rest: all that mortal energy could do was done; but human strength is vain in a conflict with the unfettered elements.