All that could comfort or could soothe was done indeed by those around him, to alleviate his sufferings, and to make the heavy time pass lightly. Herbert was with him long every day; and Agnes, too, with a maid to bear her company, sat many an hour beside him. She read to him the books he loved, she sang to him the songs which she thought might waken hope and banish despondency: she conversed in gentle yet cheerful tones, and the sweet sound of her musical voice was the only medicine he received which seemed at all to advance his cure.
There was no opposition to her wishes. She came, she went, when she would; and yet not one word had passed between her and Colonel Herbert on her position with regard to Algernon Grey. He seemed to comprehend it all; to see that they loved mutually and truly; to know that to withhold her presence from him would be to destroy him; that to refuse her the solace of tending him would wring the gentle heart which it was the thought and business of his life to render happy. He was a man of a peculiar character too, not singular--though I had nearly used that word--for there are many such in the world: he was doubtful and careful at first, perhaps somewhat suspicious; but his confidence once gained, it was unbounded; and no thought of cold proprieties, no question of what the world would say, ever shackled the energies of any generous impulse. He had set himself free years before from all the trammels of convention: he had seen another do so from love for him. It had produced, though it so seldom does so, perfect happiness to both; and he perceived no reason why, between two beings pure and high, and honest in mind, the same conduct should not effect the same result. It might have been a fatal error had he mistaken the character of either, even in the slightest point. But there were other causes for his calm acquiescence in all that Agnes wished. Up to the hour at which she left him for Prague, he had watched her from infancy with fond care and anxiety; all her actions had been under his own eye; her very heart and soul had seemed open to his view; and he had given to her mind in many things the bent of his own. Though he loved the free, wild spirit that animated her at times, he had directed, he had counselled her; but now, for more than a year, she had acted entirely for herself. He had accustomed himself completely in thought, to look upon her as independent of his advice and control; and in none of her letters had he found one word to make him wish that his guidance was still extended over her. She had been alone too, with Algernon Grey in troublous times, and difficult circumstances, for many a long day: she had assured him, that, during that time, no brother could have treated her with more kindness and consideration; and he knew that Agnes would not say that, if there was one dark spot in all the memory of their intercourse. Love, he saw, it was too late to guard against; and for all the rest, he had the fullest confidence.
But there was another who also, from time to time, visited with kindly feeling the chamber of the sick man. The young Baron of Oberntraut came, whenever he set foot in Heidelberg, to see his former adversary. He conversed cheerfully, and yet considerately with him; he told him tales of all those wild and daring exploits which he himself and his gallant band performed by day and night against the enemy, who were now overrunning the Palatinate in every direction--exploits with which the pages of the old chroniclers glow; for, if ever there was a name which, for devotion, gallantry, unceasing activity, and brilliant success with small means, deserves to be placed upon the roll of heroes, it is that of John of Oberntraut. But, of the sad reverses which the forces of the protestant princes met with, in consequence of the weakness, indecision, and discord of their leaders, Oberntraut spoke not; for he well knew, that to depress the spirits of his hearer, would be to frustrate every means employed for his cure.
Yet at times he would gaze at him, as he lay with pale cheek, dim eye, and bloodless lip; and a look of thoughtful, sad, and intense speculation would come into the gallant soldier's face. What was it that he pondered? What was it that he calculated? Heaven knows! I cannot tell. Then, generally, he would turn away hastily, and bidding his companion adieu, leave the room.
It was one day, after a fit of this sort of dreamy meditation, that going down to the Altan to gaze into the plain of the Rhine, he found Agnes breathing the free air, for a short space, before she resumed her post in her lover's sick chamber. She spoke with him kindly and frankly for a moment; and he talked to her with a thoughtful and abstracted air; but very few words had passed, ere she bade him adieu, and turned to go.
"Stay, Agnes, stay," he cried; "I want to speak with you."
She turned, with her cheek somewhat paler, and a degree of alarm in her look, which she could not hide; for now that she knew more of love, she was well aware that Oberntraut had loved her; and she feared that he might love her still.
"You avoid me, Agnes," he said; "nay, hear me--I see it well--or, if you do not avoid me, you feel a restraint, an apprehension, when I am near you. There is but one means of banishing this; and, for both our sakes it must be banished: that must be by a frank explanation on my part. There was a time when I loved you more than life,--when I hoped I might be loved in return; and then, with rash vanity and eager passion, I would have taken the life of any man who attempted to cross my course.--Come, sit you down here, dear Agnes; for you tremble needlessly; and, when you have heard me to the end, you will never fear me, or shun me again. I tell you what has been, not what is. I saw you meet another; I saw your hearts and spirits instantly spring towards each other; I saw your eyes mutually light up with the same flame;--Why colour so, sweet lady? It is true, and natural, and just. I was half mad; I did him wrong; I sought his life; I placed him in a situation of danger, difficulty, and it might have been, dishonour. I was vanquished, surpassed, and frustrated. From that hour I knew you never could be mine; I felt I must have lost much of your esteem; and that I had never possessed your love. I resolved that I would regain your respect, at least;--ay, and your friendship. Weakened, tamed down, and softened, I spent the hours of sickness in arguing with my own heart, and conquering my own spirit; and in this combat, at least, I was successful. I cast the thought of love away from me; I made up my mind to the fact, that you were to be his. I could not deny to myself that he had acted generously by me; and I resolved that I would return it by my very best endeavours. I knew, at length, that he who lies ill up there had rendered me the best service; and, with a terrible struggle, but still a successful one, I cast jealousy, and anger, and mortified vanity, and irritated pride away, resolving that he should be my friend, and I would be his. So much for what is between him and me, Agnes; now for our part of it. I loved you passionately then. I love you calmly, coolly now, as a brother, Agnes,--as a friend; not only, no longer with hope, but no longer with passion. There is yet a remnant of pride in my nature; but this pride has turned to good and not to evil; for it has taught me to read myself, and study myself. I know that I could never be satisfied with aught but the first, fresh affection of a free and untouched heart; that I should be jealous of every thought--ay, even of every remembrance--of the dead, even as well as of the living; that from the woman who consented to be mine, I should require the whole affections of her nature, from the first to the last. I would not have in the whole past, one spot upon which her memory could rest with regret. I would be her happiness; and she should not have ever dreamed of other love but mine. In one word then, Agnes, if he who possesses your love, and I do believe deserves it, were to sink under the wounds he has received--which God forefend!--this hand, once so coveted, should never be sought by me. I tell you so to set your mind at rest, that we may be all that we ever can be to each other--true friends. Shrink not from me henceforth--dread not my presence or words. Look upon John of Oberntraut as your brother, if you will; and at all events believe that nought which a brother's love could do for a sister will not be done at any time by me for you; nought that the warmest friendship can prompt shall be wanting on my part towards him you love."
"Oh, thank you! thank you!" answered Agnes, giving him her hand. "This is kind, indeed. But, tell me, were those words you spoke just now about his state, but hazarded to show your meaning, or uttered as warning to me to prepare?"
She covered her eyes for a moment, and then added, in as firm a tone as she could command,--