The snow man

by George Sand

Nils, who had been waked up by the noise around him, and who was very much delighted at beholding so much fine company, was able to gratify good Martina as to the latter point, for the child had an excellent reason for knowing where the sugar was to be found which Ulphilas had brought in the morning; but it was not so easy to comply with her first request. They had no messengers, and the major, besides, was anxious to take down forthwith Martina’s deposition, together with that of the lieutenant, in regard to the conversation between the bandits, which they had overheard two hours before at the entrance to the tower of the new chateau. As this was the all-important point in the affair, he required them to repeat the whole conversation with the utmost accuracy; and, as he wrote down their statement, he expressed his regret that the third witness, Countess Margaret, was not present, to add on her signature.

Margaret was in the guard-room, where Christian, who had hurried on in advance for the purpose, had begged her to go, so that she need not be seen by the young officers, in whose eyes there would not have been the same excuse for her presence as for Martina’s: the plausible, and, in Sweden, sacred excuse of having come out of anxiety for the safety of her betrothed. But the young countess, who was standing close to the door, heard that her assistance was required, and knowing well that she need have no fear of being slandered or misjudged by any of the persons present, all of whom were known to her, threw the door open and came in. She was eager to swear, as well as the others, that the accusation of theft which the infamous baron had intended to bring against Christian, was a conspiracy that had been announced, beforehand, in her presence; and to sign her name to the statement to this effect.

On seeing her, the major and the lieutenant could not repress an exclamation of surprise, but M. Goefle, with his usual presence of mind, undertook to explain everything.

Mademoiselle Akerstrom could not have come alone, he said. She had no one to accompany her, and the officers had charged her so strictly to keep perfectly silent as to the affair, that she could not venture to take any other escort than the servant of Countess Margaret, who was in the secret as well as herself. Naturally, Countess Margaret had wished to accompany her friend, whom Peterson otherwise might have objected to escorting, on account of the bad weather. M. Goefle, once launched, brought forward a number of good reasons of a similar character, to prove how natural it was that she should have come. Martina, with her primitive simplicity, might, perhaps, have said that he did not understand what had really happened, and so far was she from suspecting Margaret’s predilection for Christian, that she would infallibly have done so, if she had not been absorbed in the all-important duty of serving tea, and even porridge, with the assistance of Nils; who, moreover, had discovered in the gaard the dishes intended by the absent Ulphilas for his uncle’s supper, and that of the guests of Stollborg. The gloomy bear-room, therefore, presented, for the moment, a tranquil scene, which formed a wonderful contrast to its previous aspect; one of those eternal contrasts which nature and destiny are constantly presenting in every life: now agonies, struggles, dangers; and the very next moment, a home circle, a repast, conversation. However, M. Goefle and Martina were the only two of the company who sat down to their supper. The others swallowed a few mouthfuls standing, and in great haste, while impatiently awaiting either for new events to occur, or for a reinforcement which would enable them to form new resolutions.

It is certain that every person in this singular gathering had cause for great anxiety. Margaret asked herself whether she would not be missed and sought after by her aunt, in consequence of the necessary change in the programme of the evening’s entertainment at the new chateau, occasioned by the absence of the burattini; and whether Mademoiselle Potin herself would not share her surprise and alarm, on learning of the continued absence of Martina, with whom she had left her. Martina did not take the anxiety of her family so much to heart. Thoroughly practical and unimaginative, she said to herself that the chateau was very large, that her mother trusted her implicitly, and being herself very fond of cards, was not in the habit of looking after her when she went hither and thither, from hall to hall, with her young companions; and lastly, that the soldiers might arrive at any moment, when she would be once more at liberty. But when she thought how small a number of defenders Stollborg had, she felt for the moment very anxious about her lover, and thought the reinforcement very slow in arriving.

Christian, in his anxiety for Margaret, scarcely thought about his own perils. The major was uneasy both for Christian and for himself. He continually repeated aside to the lieutenant that he did not consider the affair at all in a proper shape to be brought before a court. The lieutenant was troubled because the major was so; and as for M. Goefle, he was greatly alarmed about old Stenson, and his apprehensions about him led him back to his inward cogitations about Christian’s birth and destiny.

The situation, in short, was not reassuring for any of them, when at last they heard a knocking and ringing at the door of the court. The officer and soldiers they were waiting for had perhaps arrived, but there was an equal chance that it was a second band of bravos, despatched by the baron to assist or deliver the first. The major and the lieutenant loaded their pistols, and rushed out, ordering Christian, with the legal authority with which they were clothed by their position, to remain behind them, and make no movement until at their command. Then Larrson, at the risk of being struck down by the scoundrels whom he wished to arrest, resolutely opened the door of the court himself, and, on doing so, recognized with joy his friend the adjutant, and the four soldiers who lived nearest to his cantonment. From that moment he was safe. The baron was of course impatient to learn the issue of his scheme, and on receiving no intelligence in regard to it, he would not fail to send a new band of his foreign footmen to discover what had happened, but they would now be prepared to receive them.

The adjutant made his report, which was brief. He had got lost with his men, and had only discovered Stollborg by accident at last, after wandering for a long time in the fog. As far as he could judge, he had not met any one during the whole time; if this had happened, it had been without his knowledge.

“However,” he added, “the fog is beginning to lift about the shores of the lake, and in less than a quarter of an hour it will be quite possible to make a round. Moreover, as the noise of the fanfares and fireworks has entirely ceased at the chateau, we can distinguish, now, the slightest sounds from without.”

“It will be all the easier to make a round,” replied the major, “since we have with us a man of the country, a certain Peterson, who has the divining instinct of the peasants, and who, even now, could lead you anywhere; but wait awhile longer. Stand sentinel at the two outer gates, in profound silence, and keep well concealed. Close the doors of the pavilion of the gaard. See that the prisoners are well guarded, and threaten them with death if they speak a word, but let this be merely a threat. The one dead man on our hands is one too many; we may be held responsible for his death ourselves.”