The howling of the storm mingles with the tumult of these volumes of water. The old alders alongside the river bow and bend to each other like shadowy giants come forth in their numbers to dance a reel in one long line. The heavens are obscured by heavy rain-clouds,--everything is dark and black except the snowy froth, which seems to throw out an uncertain light against which the outlines of the wood planking are dimly visible. Above that projects the rail of the little drawbridge, in appearance like the phantom form of a cat, creeping with outstretched legs across a roof.
On the drawbridge the two meet. Trude, her head covered by a dark shawl, has been standing for a long time beneath the alders, seeking shelter from the rain, and has hurried to meet him as she saw the outline of his figure appear on yonder side of the weir.
"Trude, is it you?" he asks hurriedly, looking searchingly into her face. She is silent and clings to the rail. The foam is dancing before her eyes, in blue and yellow colors.
"Trude," he says, while he tries to catch hold of her hand, "I have come to bid you farewell for life. Are you going to let me go forth to a strange land without one word?"
"And I have come for the peace of my soul," says she, shrinking back from his groping hand. "Hans, I have borne much for your sake; I have grown older by half a lifetime; I am weak and ill. Therefore take pity on me: do not touch me--I do not want to return again guilt-laden to your brother's house!"
"Trude--did you come here to torture me?"
"Softly, Hans, softly--do not pain me! Let us part from one another with clean and honest hearts, and take peace and courage with us--for all our lives.... We must surely not rail at each other--not in love and not in hatred," She stops exhausted; her breath comes heavily; then, pulling herself together with an effort, she continues: "You see, I always knew that you would come long before I got your note to-day; and, a thousand times over I thought out every word--that I was going to say to you. But of course--you must not unsettle me so."
His eyes glow through the darkness; his breath comes hot; and with a shrill laugh he says:
"Don't make a halo round us. It is no good--we are both accursed anyway in heaven and on earth! Then let us at least--"
He stops abruptly, listening.