Under a Charm: A Novel. Vol. I

by E. Werner

Wanda resisted no further, though a vague feeling of uneasiness came over her. Heretofore Leo had been the constant companion of the young people in their excursions by sea and land; this was the first time they had been out alone together. Young as Wanda was, she would have been no woman not to discover, before Waldemar's second visit was over, what had made him so shy and confused on the first. He was incapable of dissimulation, and his eyes spoke a language all too plain, though he had as yet betrayed himself by no word. He was still more reserved and monosyllabic with Wanda than with the others; but, notwithstanding this, she knew her power over him well enough--knew how to use, and occasionally to misuse it; for to her the whole thing was a sport, and nothing more. It pleased her that she could rule this obstinate, masterful nature with a word, nay, even with a look; it flattered her to feel herself the object of a certainly somewhat mute and eccentric, but yet passionate homage; above all, it delighted her to see how angry Leo grew over the matter. Really to give the preference to his elder brother never once entered her mind. Waldemar's person and manners were to the last degree distasteful to her. She thought his appearance 'horrid;' his lack of courtesy shocked, and his conversation wearied her. Love had not made young Nordeck more amiable. He showed her none of those chivalrous attentions in which Leo, in spite of his youth, was already an adept. He seemed, on the contrary, to yield with reluctance to a charm from which he was unable to escape; yet everything in him bore witness to the irresistible power which this first passion had gained over him.

The Beech Holm must probably one day have been a little islet, as its name would indicate; now it was only a thickly wooded hill, joined to the shore by a narrow strip of land, or rather by a little chain of sandy downs, whereby access could be had to it on foot. Notwithstanding its beauty, the place was but little frequented. It was too secluded and too distant for the brilliant, gaiety-loving visitors of C----, whose excursions were generally made to some of the neighbouring villages along the coast. To-day, as usual, there was no one on the Holm when the boat came to land. Waldemar jumped out, whilst his companion, without waiting for help, sprang lightly on to the white sand, and ran off up the hill.

The Beech Holm well deserved its name. The whole wood, which lined the shore for nearly a mile, showed nowhere so many or such fine trees of this species as were gathered together on this spot of earth. Here mighty old beeches stood, spreading their giant branches far over the green turf, and over the grey, weather-beaten fragments of stone which lay scattered here and there, the relics of heathen times--tradition said of some ancient place of sacrifice. At the landing-place the trees stood back on either side, and the broad, beautiful sea lay as in a frame, its deep-blue plain stretching away far as the eye could reach. No shore, no island obstructed the view, no sail rose on the horizon, nothing but the sea in all its grandeur, and the Beech Holm, lying there so solitary and world-forgotten, it might really have been a little islet lost in mid-ocean.

Wanda had taken off her straw hat with its plain black ribbon, and sat down on one of the moss-grown stones. She still wore half-mourning for the late Prince Baratowski. Her white dress was only relieved by a black knot here and there, and a little black scarf was thrown round her shoulders. This sombre hue on her white garments gave to the girl's appearance a subdued and softened tinge which was not habitual to it. She looked infinitely charming as she sat thus with folded hands, gazing meditatively out over the sea.

Waldemar, who had taken a seat by her side on the enormous root of an old beech, seemed to be of this opinion, for he entertained himself exclusively with looking at her. For him the scenery around existed not. He started as from a dream when Wanda, pointing to her stone seat, said jestingly--"I suppose this is one of your old Runic stones?"

Waldemar shrugged his shoulders. "You must ask my tutor, Dr. Fabian, about that. He is more at home in the first century of our era than in the present. He would give you a learned and lengthy dissertation on Runic stones, dolmens, tumuli, and the like. It would afford him the greatest pleasure."

"Oh no; for goodness' sake!" laughed Wanda; "but, if Dr. Fabian has such an enthusiastic love for antiquity, I wonder he has not instilled a taste for it into you. It seems to me you are quite indifferent on the subject."

The young man's face took a most disdainful expression. "What do I care for all their antiquarian nonsense? The woods and fields interest me for the sport they can give me."

"How prosaic!" cried Wanda, indignantly. "So all your thoughts run on your sport! I dare say here on the Beech Holm you are thinking of the bucks and hares which may be hidden in the coverts."

"No," said Waldemar, slowly. "I am not."