The Gnomes of the Saline Mountains: A Fantastic Narrative

by Anna Goldmark Gross

  "Can I have lost my way?" he murmured, breathing heavily, while greatbeads of perspiration broke out on his forehead.

  In an hour's time he was supposed to be at the Mountain View Hotel, andnow.... He looked helplessly around. Darkness began to fall, contestingevery inch of ground with retreating daylight. His teeth werechattering with a cold chill, when he set out to find another opening.

  The continuous excitement of this wandering from one hotel to another,the consuming sorrow, the bleeding wound in his heart, had graduallyundermined his constitution, originally none too strong, and nowthis wearing cough, the insidious fever!... "How upset I feel; it'sthe peculiar atmosphere," he said to himself. At the same time heremembered that the entertainment he proposed to offer this evening,was not sufficiently furnished with witty epigrams and bons mots. So,bowing and smiling to an imaginary audience of cosmopolitan taste, hebegan to rehearse his lecture as he walked on, sharpening the humourand adding some popular Austrian witticisms in vogue as trump cards.

  Suddenly he looked up and saw a dark cloud threatening down uponhim. Heavy gusts of wind commenced to bend the tops of the high,impenetrable trees. The songs of the mocking birds rang from the cedarsin the distance in his ear and startled him.

  He stopped in alarm and looked distractedly around him. Where was he?He could not make out. In the marshy places the fireflies were seen,wandering about and looking in the distance like malicious eyes ofwicked sprites.

  There was no longer any doubt, he had taken an entirely wrong direction.

  Trembling with excitement, fearing delay, he rushed back to look forthe right path, while his hot breath grated audibly on his weak lungs.A fearful storm was gathering, whispering and sobbing like complaining,frightened witches now whirling the leaves into the air vehemently asif driven by the furies of Hades.

  A cold shudder ran through his fevered frame. He gazed in helplessdespair up and down, not knowing where to turn, while the rain poureddown in torrents, soaking him from head to foot, and the centuriesold tree-tops groaned and moaned like lost souls in Dante's Inferno.Now everything began to swim around him. Nature was in an uproar andbluster. Every little glowworm seemed to his frightened eyes to grow togigantic proportions dancing wildly about.

  Sharp flashes of lightning lit up the Traunstein ever and anon andseemed to come nearer and nearer, as if trying to march straight downupon him. He wanted to retreat, but could not move; there was a darkmist before his eyes. Uttering a piercing cry, he fell to the ground ina heap because the big monster kept on advancing.

  With a tremendous crash, the great mountain burst apart and a wholetroop of tiny, little mountain gnomes came out, dancing grotesquelylike sprites of another world.

  They were garbed in white vestments, like fleecy vapors, with brazengirdles which seemed to be sunbeams, and a cloudy stuff supposed tobe mantles hung loosely around their diminutive forms. With bare feetthey pattered down upon him. As soon as they caught sight of him theycommenced to giggle, swarming around him in great merriment. And thenthey put their ludicrous little heads together and pointed at him withcontempt, whispering tales in falsetto tones to each other, which hecould not understand. But he saw by the glare of their twinkling littleeyes that they meant him, that they touched on something in his pastlife.

  By and by they became bolder and touched his wet clothes; some of theolder ones bent down to him and whispered malicious tales about hiswife into his ears. He groaned aloud. "It is a lie! I don't believea word of it!" he screamed, cursing the whole deceitful band. In hisindignation he tried to rise several times in order to drive themaway--down into the foaming stream, or back into their mountain riff;but he could not move; his feet seemed to be fastened to the veryground as if paralyzed or chained to earth. They whispered once morethe name of his wife with scornful laughter, and passed on over hillsand valleys dancing merrily.

  Suddenly a bright light shone about him, illuminating the marshywaters; invisible choirs were singing sweetly, as if angels weredescending from heaven. His eyes dilated as he saw a procession of tinyelves passing him, carrying little lighted tapers in their diminutivehands. In their midst he saw his dear mother stretching out her armslongingly towards him.

  Tears came to his eyes. The dear face! He wanted to run to her, embraceher, but could not stir. A cry of horror broke from his trembling lipswhen the fair Siren so fatal to his life stood before him, interveningand trying to ensnare him again with the fascination of her glitteringeyes, her bewitching smile, speaking to him of love and devotion whichhe believed again.

  He listened to her; and a ray of happiness and delight filled hislove-sick heart. She comes back to him! She loves only him! Andunheeding the beseeching beckoning of his anxious mother, whosetortured heart writhed and bled for her suffering son, he hastened onwith the enticing Siren,--where to, he did not know.

  Suddenly they stood before a deep precipice; darkness surrounded them,and the old trees commenced to sigh and moan and bend down upon them.Six shadowy forms with blazing torches appeared upon the scene carryinga coffin. Just in front of him the lid opened and the pale waxen faceof his dead mother met his frightened eyes. He screamed aloud withhorror. He had broken that noble heart, he had killed the best ofmothers, because he had followed this evil spirit of his life.

  With a loud cry he threw himself upon the lifeless form and wept, whilethe fair siren by his side laughed and laughed. Beside himself withindignation he panted, trying to strike her and hurl words of hatred inher face; but his hands fell helpless by his side; they had no power toexecute his will. He seemed rooted to the ground.

  V.

  "Get up from this wet ground, you fellow! How did you ever come herein this beastly weather?" He heard a deep sympathetic voice by hisside. Awakened from his swoon, soon he looked amazed around him. Whathad happened? He did not know at all. His limbs were helpless and helay on the ground where he must have fallen. His treasured sourceof income, his precious book, containing all his humorous lectures,lay rain-soaked near his side. How long he had been lying thereunconscious, he did not know himself. A slim well-dressed man stoodbefore him, doing his best to help him get up and trying to comfort himas much as he could, shaking his head wonderingly, and inquiring how heever happened to be lost in such a place.

  The lecturer looked about him with great relief. He did not see thegnomes anywhere. So it was not true what they told him, what theysneered at--

  His heart rejoiced. It was only a hallucination, nothing else. All hehad seen and heard must have been a stupid fancy of his tired brain.The best proof was, that he found himself lying helplessly on theground, just awakening from a swoon.

  Yes, the condition of his brain was at fault; that was as clear asdaylight. "Thank God!" he exclaimed, while a feeling of unspeakable joysurged through his heart, now gladdened with thankfulness.

  "I came near believing all that stupid nonsense of those wicked gnomesabout my----"

  "Hey! listen to me, poor fellow! What in Heaven's name, are you doinghere on that wet ground?"

  It was not until the stranger by his side had repeated his questionthat he could pull himself together and answer in a stammering voice,while a cold shiver shook his emaciated frame.

  He looked at the stranger with dilated eyes. "Beg pardon sir. I--I musthave lost my way. I was to give a humorous lecture at a neighboringhotel, and--and fell down," he said helplessly, picking up hisrain-soaked book, which he had discovered within reach.

  "Why, you are wet through and through, my man. What can I do for you?"asked the stranger with deep sympathy.

  A strange look of wonder illuminated the face of the downfallen man.He stammered: "If you would have the great kindness to help bring meto the Mountain View Hotel. You see, I am expected there. I've got toearn some money tonight yet." He paused to cough; his voice seemedsepulchral.

  "I have a motherless child to support." His head was bent to hide hisemotion. "My girlie must have all she needs. I--I couldn't stand it ifthey were to let her go hungry. God!
" Again a vehement cough shook hiswasted frame.

  "Well, well, this turns out all right. I'll bring you there as we arestaying in the same hotel."

  "He's got fever, sir--better let's get him on the box," he heard thecoachman say who stood by his side looking with obvious pity at the manbefore him.

  A few paces away, a closed carriage was standing with two lightedlanterns in front of it.

  The storm had relented for a while, and mysterious silence fell uponthe scene.

  "Ogden!" now called out an excited woman's voice from within thecarriage. "To miss the table d'hote on account of that wretchedbeggar. Why it's just unpardonable!"

  "That voice!... God have mercy!"

  The man on the ground stammered as if struck by lightning. His eyesdilated, starting out of their sockets and staring horrified at thecarriage.

  "That voice," he repeated. "Could it be possible? Could she be there?Am I still under the influence of that horrible hallucination?" hemoaned piteously. He could not and would not believe a word of all theytold him.

  Again he seemed to hear the revolting chuckle of the insolent gnomes,from the Traunstein, repeating their malignant tales of the outrageousconduct of his--

  "Up with you quickly, for we'll have more rain within a short time!"said Mr. Ogden, now in a sympathetic voice, and at the same timeheeding the woman's command in the carriage, which he would not haveignored for any consideration.

  The coachman assisted the stranger to his seat on the box, and then Mr.Ogden entered the carriage, closing the door carefully.

  Then the splendid team of horses set off like the wind. "God have pityon me! that voice!"

  He could never forget the voice of that alluring siren who had goadedhim on, until he saw nothing but her seductive face, listened tonothing but her deceitful declarations of love, without thinking of hismother's grief and her death!

  Could it be possible? She here in that closed carriage with anotherman? No, no! It was another hallucination of his feverish brain.

  How could she ever have attained such wealth? "Nonsense!" he murmuredsmilingly to himself, drawing a long breath of relief. Ah! how he hadadored that faithless woman!

  The smiling expression died out of his face, and a mournful compassionfor his deserted child stole into his troubled countenance. Why did shebring so much misery into his life? Every fibre of his noble heart hadbeen throbbing with uncontrollable love for her! And now----the lightof life, the hope of future years, was blotted out, clouds of despairand a grim night of an unbroken desolation fell like a pall on hisheart and brain. Nothing to look forward to but misery!

  VI.

  He had wandered about like a soul condemned and lost to eternity. Butthe one hope to meet her again possessed him, kept him alive. Andthen--she'll come back to him--he was convinced of that; to his lonelylittle Mary. And after all she might be touched by his devoted lovethat knows how to pardon and overlook certain occurrences in the lifeof a giddy-headed woman!

  Unfortunately the cold, calculating coquette had never felt a tingeof anything like love, and had only an observing eye for the monthlyallowances he received from his well-to-do parents.

  He had come to Dresden a young, inexperienced student to pursue acourse in literature and jurisprudence. The handsome, dashing woman,somewhere in the twenties, soon allured him with her well triedarts. Within a short time he was her devoted slave and did not seenor hear anything else but her alluring voice, and after six months'acquaintance he led her to the altar without the knowledge of hisparents.

  When they found it out, through a friend living in Dresden, they werein despair, in their helpless anger. His mother never recovered fromthe rude shock her ambition had received. She did not know the woman,but when she heard that she belonged to a different faith, she wascrushed, although the noble catholicity of spirit that distinguishedher character did not allow her to show it. Her proudest hope to seethat beloved son some day a respected citizen and lawyer in that littleprovincial town where his cradle stood, was gone forever!

  Years of wrestling with life's sorrows had set upon her noble,benignant countenance, almost a seal of holiness, and shed over herplacid features the mild, sweet life of a pure heart. Her white hair,the snowy mass prematurely white, wonderfully softened the outlines ofher face.

  Now deep lines commenced to furrow her sweet, indulgent features, andshe grieved so deeply over the disgrace that she began to lose herhealth. Silently, without a word to her husband she performed herhousehold duties, until one day her enfeebled constitution gave way andshe died, praying for the only child she had ever had.

  Her husband, Mr. Burge, under the double stress of the sorrow, refusedto hear anything of the ungrateful son, for whom he had slaved andworked all his life, and whose grievous mistake in marrying anadventuress, had cost the mother's life.

  He had a large estate to look after, but he was alone now. He neededthe son, but what could he do? He was ashamed of the daughter-in-law!"No, not a cent of my money can she have," he murmured constantly tohimself with a flushed face and dry lips, looking at his imposingestate, where the beautiful Rhine rushed by and the tumbled downcastles of long-forgotten races were seen in the distance.

  The irate father dissolved all connection with the son and stopped allpayments, denying him any assistance whatsoever in the future.

  After the regular allowance from home had entirely ceased, it wasnecessary for the young husband to go and seek some profitableemployment to support his expensive wife.

  He had never earned a cent, and racked his brain now how to get money.The tantalizing condition pressed upon him that he might not be ableto support his family. Finally, he got a position with a meagre salaryin a newspaper office, but he was scarcely able to provide the barestnecessaries of life.

  He commenced to write short stories. Although he had no ambitionto climb to such a lofty niche in the temple of fame, he thoughthe might at least earn a modest income. Short stories and humorouslectures--that must make a hit. Everybody said that he had a humorousvein. Now the time had come to show his mettle, but the short storieswere generally returned. The irate father had ceased to send money andno other help was discoverable. And then--after all that--she, hisloving wife, dropped her mask and showed herself in her true colors.

  "I have had enough of this," she said with a disgusted shrug of herwhite shoulders to her horrified husband. "I don't intend to starvehere."

  In vain he begged her to have a little patience for the sake of theirchild. The last short story must turn out to be a great success; hefelt it and was really convinced of it.

  "Convinced," she sneered contemptuously and turned away. No use oflosing any breath about it, she thought. I am through with him anyway.Oh! How she longed to be rich, wear stylish clothes and be admired.

  The beautiful coquette became restless in her little home; she lookedabout sick at heart, unable to tolerate it any longer, only wishing toget the opportunity to leave it forever. Her eyes were full of scornwhen looking at her husband, who could not supply her with all that shelonged for just now, and for which she would have pledged the salvationof her very soul. She commenced to frequent public places in theabsence of her husband.

  How she loathed poverty! "Anything but that," she murmured to herself,her face white with disgust as she walked on, gazing in all directionsto see one of her former acquaintances, with a strange unrest in herlarge eyes. Her opportunity would come; she was sure of that, and itcame in meeting one day the rich Englishman who was introduced to herby one of her former friends and boon companions.

  Shortly after this encounter, she received a letter from the Englishmantelling her of the deep and lasting impression she had made on him andhow he longed to see her again. Her face flushed with pleasure as sheread all these, and then perused an invitation to take an automobileride through the beautiful mountains.

  For some time she sat dazzled, and then she looked at the poorlyfurnished rooms; at her own wretched outfit, and her eyes flashedindignantly.


  "I am through with all this. Here is the opportunity I was longingfor," she said with a contemptuous smile. "I'll show him--the younginexperienced fool I have married--that beauty counts for a whole lotand ... boldness even more."

  She stopped at the window and looked down at the Englishman'sautomobile before her door.

  "The opportunity--my opportunity has come." These words rangceaselessly in her ears and filled her being with a strange endeavorto avenge herself on the man who could not supply her with all theluxuries she craved for, and according to her ethics, was entitled to.

  VII.

  It was on Christmas eve, her husband had come home with a radiant face.His short story had been accepted, and the money was in his pocket. Nowhe could buy a fitting present for his wife. Of course it could notbe too expensive, but she certainly would enjoy it all the same; hewas sure of that, feeling that the opening of a successful career wasinaugurated.

  On his way home he had also bought a little fir tree to set up forthe first Christmas celebration in his own home. The recollections ofsimilar holidays in the house of his parents stirred him to the depths.How his heart quivered when he thought of his dear mother he loved sodearly. If she only were alive how different everything would be! He,who was brought up in luxury, mother's pet, and now--

  With deep emotion he entered the house. With a brisk step he opened thedoor, looked around and found it empty, the wife and all her belongingsgone!

  The horror of that night was something he could never forget as longas he lived. Holding his ten months' old child in his trembling arms,he wept burning tears for her, the mother of his child. Could it bepossible? A mother deserting her child on this holiest of evenings? Hecould not believe his eyes, but all she possessed went with her. No,no, she was giddy-headed, but not cruel. Motherhood must assert itselfand surely would. How he loved her, how he longed to take her in hisarms and feed his poor, famished heart with a touch of her lips!