The Last Miracle

by M. P. Shiel

"Pitied? Baron Kolár?"

"Ah, dear Heaven, yes: for nothing less than a very great wrong was done to his lordship by one in whom he had trust. They say 'one love is worth the other'; but unthankfulness is ever the world's repayment."

"But what was this great wrong done to his lordship?"

She sighed, and answered: "end good, all good; it is a long story, sir"; nor was there any overcoming her reserves when she chose to be silent.

"But that is strange," said I, "that St Photini's should be shut up—five years! To what church, then, do you—go?"

"We go to none, since the body is more real than the soul. There is a little Roman church down there in Speisendorf, but no one goes to it since the miracle of six years ago; those of the alp once went to St Photini's, but St Photini's is of the Oriental Greek Church, and the Pater Max Dees was an Oriental Greek priest." "Was?" said I, "but is the good Pater no longer alive?" "Who knows?" said she. "You do; tell me," said I. "But I do not know, sir, truly! perhaps the baron himself could impart to you that information." "But where is the baron?" I asked, "in the duchy, do you know?" "The baron is at the burg, sir." "Baron Kolár at Schweinstein! When did he arrive?" "Late last night, I believe," she answered.

"Strange," I thought, "that we have heard nothing of it, though we have questioned so many people"; and wondering if he had come in a clandestine manner, or by another route than ours, I hurried out to give Langler the news. In telling him, I saw the cow-man trotting toward the tarn under a load of wurzels, so I called him to us, and asked why he had told us that the baron was not at the castle. "Kiss the hand, sirs!" he said, and answered with a blank air, "but this is strange! is the baron at the castle? and is it the little woman who has told you this? she must have seen it in a dream"——and he peered sourly up into the room where the spinning-wheel sounded. Turning to Langler, I asked him how the foot was going, for I felt that it would be well to make a move; "you see I have on the boot," was his reply, "I can walk quite well"; and within some minutes we had started, for eventide was falling, and we had to get to a sort of guest-court three miles higher. We had sent the horses back down to Speisendorf, our farther route being rough for night-travelling; and with our Piast stepping out ahead in his coloured home-spuns, we tramped toward the bourn where beds and the trunks awaited us. It had turned bleak now, the fuffs of the mountain-winds began to tune-up and fife, the gloom deepened toward night. I confess that I felt afraid, I hardly knew of what, but the mood of the mountains was undoubtedly morose and dark. When I asked the lad if he had heard the news that his lordship had arrived he looked foolish, and said no, he had not heard. We passed by rude altars decked with gauds, by crucifixes on the crags, and a mile from the sennhaus reached a river all shut in by ravines, up the banks of which we wound, till, after about an hour and a half of continuous walking, we came to some lock-gates, and then, in an opening in the cliff-wall, to a factory, which Piast said was a glass-factory, and I remember wondering where the hands could come from to work it; a little higher was a mill-wheel and other lock-gates, and thenceforward unbroken lines of cliff, walling-in the river. I had known that we should have to journey up this or some such river, so had no fear that we were being jockeyed; yet I felt like one lost, for by this time we could hardly see our hand before our eyes, the winds waged their business in many a strange tongue, and my knowledge that Langler was limping made me the more anxious to come at shelter. As usual in such a case, we were stricken rather silent, plodding on in patience for the journey to be over and for a light to arise before us. And in front of us stepped our Piast.

But at one place when I called out "Piast!" to ask him something, I got no answer; whereupon we both stopped, we called and called, but Piast was gone.

"Well, we seem to be abandoned," Langler said.

At the same moment I called out sharply: "but do you feel your feet wet?"