CHAPTER XXXII. A SPOT TO BE BURIED IN.
ON their return homeward, Du-----e took the third seat in the carriage,and endeavoured, with his usual vivacity, to cheer the spirits of hiscompanions; and such was the elasticity of Gertrude's nature, that withher, he, to a certain degree, succeeded in his kindly attempt. Quicklyalive to the charms of scenery, she entered by degrees into the externalbeauties which every turn in the road opened to their view; and thesilvery smoothness of the river, that made the constant attractionof the landscape, the serenity of the time, and the clearness of theheavens, tended to tranquillize a mind that, like a sunflower, soinstinctively turned from the shadow to the light.
Once Du-----e stopped the carriage in a spot of herbage, bedded amongthe trees, and said to Gertrude, "We are now in one of the many placesalong the Neckar which your favourite traditions serve to consecrate.Amidst yonder copses, in the early ages of Christianity, there dwelt ahermit, who, though young in years, was renowned for the sanctity of hislife. None knew whence he came, nor for what cause he had limited thecircle of life to the seclusion of his cell. He rarely spoke, save whenhis ghostly advice or his kindly prayer was needed; he lived upon herbs,and the wild fruits which the peasants brought to his cave; and everymorning and every evening he came to this spot to fill his pitcher fromthe water of the stream. But here he was observed to linger long afterhis task was done, and to sit gazing upon the walls of a convent whichthen rose upon the opposite side of the bank, though now even its ruinsare gone. Gradually his health gave way beneath the austerities hepractised; and one evening he was found by some fishermen insensible onthe turf. They bore him for medical aid to the opposite convent; and oneof the sisterhood, the daughter of a prince, was summoned to attendthe recluse. But when his eyes opened upon hers, a sudden recognitionappeared to seize both. He spoke; and the sister threw herself on thecouch of the dying man, and shrieked forth a name, the most famous inthe surrounding country,--the name of a once noted minstrel, who, inthose rude times, had mingled the poet with the lawless chief, and wassupposed, years since, to have fallen in one of the desperate fraysbetween prince and outlaw, which were then common; storming the verycastle which held her, now the pious nun, then the beauty and presiderover the tournament and galliard. In her arms the spirit of the hermitpassed away. She survived but a few hours, and left conjecture busy witha history to which it never obtained further clew. Many a troubadour inlater times furnished forth in poetry the details which truth refused tosupply; and the place where the hermit at sunrise and sunset ever cameto gaze upon the convent became consecrated by song."
The place invested with this legendary interest was impressed with asingular aspect of melancholy quiet; wildflowers yet lingered on theturf, whose grassy sedges gently overhung the Neckar, that murmuredamidst them with a plaintive music. Not a wind stirred the trees; but ata little distance from the place, the spire of a church rose amidst thecopse; and, as they paused, they suddenly heard from the holy buildingthe bell that summons to the burial of the dead. It came on the ear insuch harmony with the spot, with the hour, with the breathing calm, thatit thrilled to the heart of each with an inexpressible power. It waslike the voice of another world, that amidst the solitude of naturesummoned the lulled spirit from the cares of this; it invited, notrepulsed, and had in its tone more of softness than of awe.
Gertrude turned, with tears starting to her eyes, and, laying her handon Trevylyan's, whispered, "In such a spot, so calm, so sequestered, yetin the neighbourhood of the house of God, would I wish this broken frameto be consigned to rest."
The Pilgrims of the Rhine Page 67