[CHAPTER I.]
A PHANTOM
Solemn and lofty against the evening sky towers the Kofel, the land-mark and protecting rock-bulwark of Oberammergau, bearing aloft its solitary cross, like a threatening hand uplifted in menace to confront an advancing foe with the symbol of victory.
Twilight is gathering, and the dark shadow of the mighty protector stretches far across the quiet valley. The fading glow of sunset casts a pallid light upon the simple cross which has stood on the mountain peak for centuries, frequently renewed but always of the same size, so that it can be seen a long distance off by the throngs who journey upward from the valley, gazing longingly across the steep, inhospitable mountains toward the goal of the toilsome pilgrimage.
It is Friday. A long line of carriages is winding like a huge serpent up the Ettal mountain. Amid the throng, two very handsome landaus are especially conspicuous. The first is drawn by four horses in costly harnesses adorned with a coronet, which prance gaily in the slow progress, as if the ascent of the Ettal mountain was but pastime for animals of their breed. In the equipage, which is open, sit a lady and a gentleman, pale, listless, uninterested in their surroundings and apparently in each other; the second one contains a maid, a man servant, and on the box the courier, with the pompous, official manner, which proclaims to the world that the family he has the honor of serving and in whose behalf he pays the highest prices, is an aristocratic one. The mistress of this elegant establishment, spite of her downcast eyes and almost lifeless air, is a woman of such remarkable beauty that it is apparent even amidst the confusion of veils and wraps. Blonde hair, as soft as silk, clusters in rings around her brow and diffuses a warm glow over a face white as a tea rose, intellectual, yet withal wonderfully, tender and sensuous in its outlines. Suddenly, as though curious to penetrate the drooping lids and see the eyes they concealed, the sun bursts through a rift in the clouds, throwing a golden bridge of rays from mountain to mountain. Now the lashes are raised to return the greeting, revealing sparkling dark eyes of a mysterious color, varying every instant as they follow the shimmering rays that glide along the cliff. Then something flashes from a half-concealed cave and the beams linger a moment on a pale face. It is an image of Christ carved in wood which, with uplifted hand, bids the new comers welcome. But those who are now arriving do not understand its language, the greeting remains unanswered.
The sunbeams glide farther on as if saying, "If this is not the Christ you are seeking, perhaps it is he?" And now--they stop. On a rugged peak, illumined by a halo of light, stands a figure, half concealed by the green branches, gazing with calm superiority at the motley, anxious crowd below. He has removed his hat and, heated by the rapid walk, is wiping the perspiration from his brow. Long black locks parted in the middle, float back from a grave, majestic face with a black beard and strangely mournful black, far-seeing eyes. The hair, tossed by the wind, is caught by a thorny branch which sways above the prematurely furrowed brow. The sharp points glow redly in the brilliant sunset light, as if crimsoned with blood from the head which rests dreamily against the trunk. A tremor runs through the form of the woman below; she suddenly sits erect, as though roused from sleep. The wandering rays which sought her eyes also lead her gaze to those of the solitary man above, and on this golden bridge two sparkling glances meet. Like two pedestrians who cannot avoid each other on a narrow path, they look and pause. They grasp and hold each other--one must yield, for neither will let the other pass.
Then the sunbeam pales, the bridge has fallen, and the apparition vanishes in the forest shadows.
"Did you see that?" the lady asked her companion, who had also glanced up at the cliff.
"What should I have seen?"
"Why--that--that--" she paused, uncertain what words to choose. She was going to say, "that man up there," but the sentence is too prosaic, yet she can find no other and says merely, "him up there!" Her companion, glancing skyward, shakes his head.