Gretchen blushed crimson, but she recovered herself quickly, and said with much decision--
"You know nothing about it, Emile, and it is not necessary you should. As the tea is here all ready, we had better drink it ourselves."
CHAPTER XVI.
Out at sea the mild spring night was yielding before the approach of day. Faint stars still twinkled in the sky, but the distant horizon gleamed with the first streaks of dawn, and the slumbering waves murmured softly, as in a dream.
Over the waters, through the ever strengthening morning twilight, a ship was speeding. On board her were Count Morynski, his daughter, and Waldemar. They had left the port of S---- about midnight, but it had taken them some hours to steam through the vast river-mouth, and they were only now issuing forth into the open sea. Wanda had not found courage to part from her father so immediately after their reunion; she had insisted on going with him, at least so far as the port of embarkation, and Waldemar had yielded to her earnest entreaties. There could hardly be danger in the plan; indeed, the journey to S---- might perhaps be performed more safely in the company of a lady. The Princess Baratowska would remain at Rakowicz for the present. As her son had rightly foreseen, the Count's escape was attributed to her sole agency. She alone was suspected, and any possible investigation of the matter would be directed against her and her place of residence. Wanda's absence was scarcely remarked; besides which, it had been arranged that she should return from Altenhof in the course of a few days under Waldemar's escort.
Old Squire Witold's estate, now the property of his adopted son, lay near the coast along which the outward-bound ship must pass, and the plan decided on was that the young people should bear the fugitive company so far on his way. Count Morynski intended to await in England the arrival of the Princess, who would stay on at Rakowicz some weeks longer to be present at the marriage of her son and niece, setting out immediately after it to join her brother. On meeting in England, they would concert together as to the choice of their future place of abode.
Gradually day had dawned. Its first chill rays of early light played on the broad surface of the sea, but colourless as yet, and conveying no warmth. Now, as the coast receded and the open sea lay before the traveller, the parting could no longer be deferred. Yonder stretched the shore which bounded the domain of Altenhof, and, in close proximity to the vessel, now slackening her speed, fenced in by a wall of white morning mist, lay the Beech Holm. The leave-taking on deck was short and pathetic. Count Morynski suffered most from the keen pain of it. Strive as he might to retain his composure, he broke down utterly as he placed his daughter in the arms of her future husband. Waldemar saw that the torture of this moment must not be prolonged. He quickly lifted his betrothed into the boat lying off in readiness, and in a few minutes it bore them over to the Beech Holm, while the ship was once more set in motion. A white handkerchief fluttered from the deck, the farewell signal was returned from the Holm, then the distance grew greater and greater between the traveller and the dear ones left behind. The ship steamed off at full speed towards the North.
Wanda sank down on one of the large fragments of stone strewn beneath the beeches, and gave vent to an outburst of passionate grief. Waldemar, standing by her side, was mastered by no emotion, but his face was very grave, saddened by the pain of that parting hour.
"Wanda," he said, laying his hand on hers. "This separation is not to be a lasting one. If your father may not again set foot on his native soil, nothing will hinder us from going to him. In a year you shall see him again--I promise you."
Wanda shook her head sadly. "If I may yet find him! He has suffered too much and too bitterly ever to regain health and an interest in life. It seems to me that I have felt his arms round me for the last time."