"Not everything, or slowly, very slowly; sixty, seventy, I know not how many years passed by; and it is never quite right till we take courage and tell some human being; I told him the evening I saved him from the sea, and so many good things followed it, so many good things; my heart has been so light ever since. You must tell some one, too, but not me; I forget so much, and might forget that too. You must tell him."
And when the next evening they again walked up and down the same garden-path, and the dim light again shimmered through the trees, he suddenly stopped and asked: "Have you told him?" and on the third and fourth day he repeated the question, always shaking his white head anxiously, when she answered with burning cheeks: "No, father, I have not told him yet," and mentally added: "And shall not tell him if he comes to-morrow, shall never tell him."
Gotthold came, but not alone. Prince Prora, at whose castle he had again spent several days to show him the sketches for the armory, and decide upon the order of the Italian landscapes for the dining-hall, wished to accompany him on his way back to Prora, and when he heard that Gotthold must stop at Dollan to take leave of the family before setting out on his journey to Italy, begged permission to accompany him there also.
"For we are neighbors, madame," said the young man, "whether I live at Prora or the castle, and I ought to have waited upon you long ago; but I will confess that a special interest brings me here to-day. Our friend has told me about the giant's grave you have in your forest, and that it is perhaps in the best preservation of any on the whole island. Now we need a landscape with one of these mounds for my armory, and when I reminded him of the one at Dollan, the obstinate fellow declares it won't do. I naturally insist it is the very one, since Dollan--before it came into the possession of your--I mean the Wenhof family--which, to be sure, if we include the Swedish branch, as is only just, was two hundred years ago--belonged to Prora, like all the rest of the island; nay, in Pagan times, a Castle Prora, surrounded with a lofty wall and deep moat, stood on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Its ruins are still mentioned in old histories, so it is very possible and even probable that the grave covers the bones of my ancestors. And am I to lose such a reminiscence for the sake of an artist's obstinacy? Never! We have an hour to spare, and I hear I can walk there and back in half an hour--pray don't trouble yourself, my dear friend! You are the very last person I will take with me, to spoil my temper by your objections."
"I will accompany you with pleasure," said old Boslaf. "I have often been up there deer-hunting with your Highness' great-grandfather. I have not walked that way for a long, long time, and should like to go once more."
The Prince looked at the old man in astonishment; he had greeted him with marked respect, in consequence of the many things Gotthold had told him about him; but it seemed like a fairy tale that any one now in existence could have gone hunting with Malte von Prora, who had lived in the times of Frederick the Great, and been sent to Berlin on a diplomatic mission by the Swedish government before the Seven Years' War.
"It is impossible for me to give you so much trouble," said he, "quite impossible."
But the old man did not seem to notice the polite refusal; he had already taken his staff, and with long regular strides led the way out of the garden, where this conversation had taken place. The Prince, with a smile, hurried after him.
"At least your Highness will allow us to follow you," said Gotthold.
"I beg you to do so," replied the Prince, "for the sake of the old man, who might not be satisfied with my company for any length of time," and then drawing Gotthold a few steps aside, he continued: "We have an hour, don't let it be passed unused. Since I have seen this lady, I understand all you have not told me, you most silent of men. May God take these mute lovers under His gracious protection!"