Heidelberg: A Romance. Volumes I, II & III

by G. P. R. James

"And I would give them in return a veil and a pair of gloves," answered Algernon Grey.

"Oh, they wear masks," cried Lovet.

"I know they do," said his companion, "and I am not fond of masks."

"Well, well, I must have dinner quick, and ride up to the castle," was the reply. "Every one to his own course, and happiness of his own kind to each."

The dinner was obtained. William Lovet equipped himself in his bravery; and Algernon Grey remained at the inn, pondering over the rencontre that was before him. To few men, even of the most gallant and determined, are the hours preceding a meeting of this kind the most pleasant in life. And, though perhaps no man ever lived who had a smaller sense of personal danger than Algernon Grey, yet they were peculiarly painful and disagreeable to him. Bred, like almost every man of noble family at that time, to arms, he had been in his boyhood inured to peril and accustomed to look death in the face; but still, educated with very strict notions in regard to religion, he could not free his mind from a belief, that to slay a fellow-creature in such an encounter was a crime. The habits of the day, the general custom of society, had their effect upon him, as upon all others; but still a conscientious repugnance lingered in his mind and produced that gloom which no feeling of apprehension could create. There was no alleviating circumstance either--there was nothing to excite or to carry him forward. He had no personal quarrel with his adversary; he had neither animosity nor anger to stimulate him; and, as I have said, the intervening hours were very dull and painful. He wrote some letters and memoranda, however; more to occupy the time than for any other reason. He ordered his horse to be ready, and the page to accompany him. He examined his sword-blade, and tried it on the ground; and at length, when the sun was approaching the horizon on its decline, he mounted and rode slowly out, with a calm, grave air, telling his servants to have supper prepared against his return. Not the slightest suspicion was entertained of his purpose; and the page rode gaily after, looking round at every thing they passed, and wondering whither his master was bound.

When they had approached the river, however, it presented a very different scene from that which had been seen from its banks for several weeks before. The green Neckar, so clear and glassy, was now a turbid torrent, red, swollen, and impetuous. The waters had risen in the course of the day and night several feet, and were dashing against the piers of the bridge and the walls of the curious old castellated houses, which then bordered the river, in impotent fury. Many of the rocks, which in ordinary weather raise their heads high above the stream, were now either entirely covered, or washed over from time to time by the waves, which a strong south-west wind occasioned in its struggle with the angry current of the stream. As the horse of Algernon Grey set his foot upon the bridge, a heavy rumbling sound from the east and north, low but distinct, and pealing long among the hills, told that the dark clouds, which were still seen hanging there, were pouring forth their mingled lightning and rain into the valleys of the Odenwald. But the moment that Algernon Grey had passed the slope of the bridge, he saw before him that which engrossed his whole attention. The Baron of Oberntraut was waiting for him under the archway of the opposite bridge-house, although the time appointed had hardly arrived; and, quickening his pace, the young Englishman rode on and joined him. Their salutations were perfectly courteous; and Oberntraut remarked, in a calm indifferent tone, "We are both a little before our time, I think; but the river is still rising, and this road by the bank has sometimes enough water on it to wet our horses' pasterns. With your good leave, I will show you the way. The stream has not yet come up, I see."

Thus saying, he turned to the right at the foot of the bridge, ascending the river; but it may be necessary to say that, at the time I speak of, the right bank of the Neckar presented a very different aspect from that which it now displays. No houses were to be seen between Neunheim on the one hand, and the old religious foundation of Neuburg, now called the Stift, on the other. The road was not elevated as it is now; but ran low, within a few feet of the ordinary level of the stream. The woods upon the Heiligberg, or Holy Mountain, and the other hills towards Neckarsteinach came sweeping down to within a few feet of the road; and, here and there, a path, large or small, according to the necessities of the case, led away up to the north, wherever a village was situated in any of the dells, or a small piece of level ground, terraced upon the face of the mountain, had afforded the peasants an opportunity of planting the apple or plum tree. The vine was not seen, unless it were a small patch in the neighbourhood of Neunheim, or of the Stift Neuburg.

Along the low horse-road, which served as a towing-path for the boats, the Baron of Oberntraut led the young English gentleman, at a slow and quiet pace, till they were within about a third of a mile of the latter place. There the hills receded a little, leaving some more level ground, still apparently thickly wooded; and, at a spot, where stood a boatman's hut, with two or three rude barks, moored to the shore, the entrance of a by-way was seen, which narrowed within view, till the space was not larger than would admit the passage of a single horse. At the entrance of this path the Baron drew in his rein, saying to his companion: "We will leave the horses and pages here, if you please, and proceed for a couple of hundred yards on foot."

Algernon Grey consented, of course; and orders were given to the two youths to lead the horses after their masters, as far as they could up the path--which, indeed, could not be done for more than three or four yards--and then to wait there.

"If you will excuse me," continued Oberntraut, "I will precede you."