Edith's bower looked gay with its spring blossoms and luxuriant creepers, but Henrich was not quite satisfied with its appearance, and he wished to place at its entrance a graceful climbing plant which he had observed during his last walk to the Wampanoge village, and had neglected to secure it on his return. It had been the desire of his parents that he should not go into the forest which bordered their grounds, except in the company of his father or some of his friends; but the apparent departure of the Nausetts had caused this injunction to be neglected of late, and he, and even his younger brother and sister, had frequently strayed, unmolested, a short distance into the wood, in search of flowers and fruits; and even Helen had ceased to feel alarm.
'Edith,' said Henrich, on the evening of which we are speaking; 'I think my father will return tonight, or tomorrow at the farthest; and I must complete my task before he arrives. Your bower still requires a few plants to adorn the entrance, and the seats of moss are scarcely finished. Let us go into the wood, and procure what we want before the sun sets, and our mother comes out to see what progress we have made.'
No, Henrich,' replied his sister; 'do not go this evening. I know not why, but the wood looks dark and gloomy; there is no sunlight on the path, and the shadows are so deep, that I could fancy every low bush was a crouching Indian. I cannot go into the wood tonight.'
'You are timid, dear Edith. You never feared to go with me before; and why should you fear this evening? See, the sun is still high in the horizon, and the darkness is all in your own fancy. Come and see that lovely creeper I told you of; and when you have admired it hanging from the decayed trunk of the old tree that supports it, you shall help me to remove it to your bower, where it will be the fairest flower that grows, except the little fairy queen herself.'
Henrich caught his sister's hand, and kissing her playfully, attempted to draw her from the bower. But she looked sad and anxious, and replied—
'O, Henrich! do not ask me; my bower is fair enough, and I would not go as far as that old tree tonight, for all the flowers that grow in the forest. Stay with me, Henrich, dear. Our mother will join us soon, and she will be alarmed if you are not here.'
The boy looked at his sister's pensive face with an affectionate smile: but he was not to be diverted from his scheme.
Stay here, then, Edith,' he replied; 'and tell my mother that I shall return in little more than ten minutes. Come, Ludovico,' he added, calling his little brother, who was always ready to follow where Henrich led. 'Come, Ludovico, you are not afraid of the shadows. Bring your basket, and you shall gather moss while I dig up my creeper. When Edith sees its drooping white flowers, she will forgive me for laughing at her unusual fears.'
Edith said no more. She was sure that Henrich knew best; and she silently watched him leave the garden, and enter the shade of the thick forest, accompanied by her joyous little brother. Were her fears, indeed, the mere creation of her own young fancy I or were they occasioned by one of those strange and unaccountable presentiments which have been felt so frequently as to justify the old proverb,
'Coming events cast their shadow, before them.