CHAPTER XIII
CHRISTIAN'S ELSA
It was about this time, and after we had made our quarrel up, that Helenebegan to call me "Great Brother." After all, there is manifest virtue ina name, and the Little Playmate seemed to find great comfort in thusaddressing me.
And after that I had called her "Little Sister" once or twice she wasgreatly assured and treated me quite differently, having ascertained thatbetween young men and women there is the utmost safety in such arelationship.
And as all ways were alike to me, I was willing enough. For indeed Iloved her and none other, and so did all the days of my life. Though Iknow that my actions and conceits were not always conformable to the truelove that was in my heart, neither wholly worthy of my dear maid.
But, then, what would you? Nineteen and the follies of one's youth! Themercy of God rather than any virtue in me kept these from being not onlyinfinitely more numerous, but infinitely worse. Yet I had better confessthem, such as they are, in this place. For it was some such nothings asthose which follow that first brought Helene and me into one way ofthinking, though by paths very devious indeed.
To begin with the earliest. There was a maid who dwelt in the Tower ofthe Wolfsberg opposite, called the Tower of the Captain of the Guard. Andthe maid's name was Elsa, or, as she was ordinarily called, "Christian'sElsa." She was a comely maid enough, and greatly taken notice of. Andwhen I went to my window to con over my task for Friar Laurence, there atthe opposite window would be--strange that it should always heso--Christian's Elsa. She was a little girl, short and plump, but withmerry eyes and so bright a stain upon either cheek that it seemed as ifshe had been eating raspberry conserve, and had wiped her fingers uponthe smiling plumpness there.
At any rate, as sure as ever I betook me to the window, there would beChristian's Elsa, busy with her needles.
And to tell truth I misliked it not greatly. Why, indeed, should I? Forthere is surely no harm in looking across twenty yards of space at amaid, and as little in the maid looking at you--that is, if neither ofyou come any nearer. Besides, it is much pleasanter to look at a prettylass than at a vacant wall and twenty yards of uneven cobble-stones.
Now the girl was harmless enough--a red and white maid, plump as apartridge in the end of harvest. She was forever humming at songs,singing little choruses, and inventing of new melodies, all tunefully andprettily enough. And she would bring her dulcimer to the window and playthem over, nodding her head to the instrument as she sang.
It was pleasant to watch her. For sometimes when the music refused to runaright, she would frown at the dulcimer, as if the discord had beenentirely its fault and it was old enough to know better. Then sometimesshe would look across abstractedly to the Red Tower, trying to recall astrain she had forgotten, with her finger all the while making the mostbewitching dimple on her plump cheek. It was most sweet and innocent tosee. And withal so entirely unconscious that any one could possibly beobserving her.
I confess that I sat often and conned my book by the window, long afterI knew my portion by heart, in order to watch her deft fingers upon thedulcimer sticks and the play of her dimples. But on my part also this wasin all innocence and wholly thoughtless of guile.
Then would I be taken with a spasm of desire to play upon the recordersor the Bavarian single flute, and would pester my father to let me learn.
Now I never had any more ear for music than a deal board that hasknot-holes in it. I had ears indeed. But the clatter of the mill-wheeland the lapper of water on the stones of the shore were ever better musicto me than singing or playing upon instruments. Nevertheless, at thistime, for some reason or other, I was in a great fret to learn.
And, curiously enough, my desire made the Little Playmate call me "GreatBrother" more assiduously than ever. Though again I knew not why.
But Christian's Elsa she could not abide either sight or mention of.Which was passing strange in so sweet and charitable a maid as ourHelene. Also the girl at the guard-house was a good daughter, besidesbeing particular of her company, and in that garrison place untouched byany breath of scandal.
But no; Helene would have none of her.
"_Feech_!" she would say, making a little grimace of disgust which shehad brought with her from her northern home; "that noisy, mewling cat,purring and stroking her face, in the window, I cannot abide her. I knownot what some folks can see in her. There are surely more kinds ofblindness than of those that wait about kirk doors with a board hunground their necks, saying, 'Good people, for the love of God, put acopper in this wooden platter.'"
"Why, Little Playmate, what ails thee at the maid? She is a good maidenough, and, I am sure, a pretty one."
So would I say to try her. Whereat the lass, being slender herself, andwith a head that sat easily on her shoulders, would walk off like thehaughty little Princess she was, and thrust her chin so far forward thateven the pretty round of it bespoke a pointed scorn. And the poutletswould come and go on her red lips so quickly that I would come from thewindow, leaving my book and Christian's Elsa, and a thousand Elsas, justto watch them.
"So, Great Brother," Helene would say, "you think she is pretty, do you?'Tis interesting, for sure. As for me, I see not anything pretty abouther. Now, there is Katrin Texel, she is pretty, if you like. What sayyou to her?"
And this was because the minx knew well that I never could abide KatrinTexel, a girl all running to seed like a shot stalk of rhubarb, who wouldend up in the neighborhood of six foot in height, and just that "finefigure of a woman" which I never could abide.
"_Feech_!" I would say, copying her Wendish expression. "I would as soonset my feather bolster on end, paint it black and white, and make love toit as to Katrin Texel."
"You do worse every day of your life," retorted Helene, with prettyspite, tapping the floor with the point of one delicate foot.
"And, pray, what do I that is worse?" I said, knowing full well what.
The Little Playmate was silent a minute, only continuing to tap the flagswith a kind of naughtiness that became her.
"Katrin Texel would not look at you, charming as you think yourself," shesaid, at last.
"Did she tell you so, Little Sister?" said I, drawing a bow at agreat venture.
The arrow struck, and I was content.
"Well," she answered, somewhat breathlessly, "what if she did? Surelyeven your vanity can take nothing out of a girl saying that she cannotabide you."
But I answered nothing to this, only stroked the mustache which wasbeginning to thrive admirably on my upper lip.
"Of all the--" began Helene, looking at me fixedly. Then she stopped.
"Well," said I, pausing in the caressing of my chin, "what do I worseevery day than make love to Katrin Texel?"
Her eyes fairly sparkled fire at me. They were "sweetest eyes" no more,but rarely worth looking into all the same.
"You go ogling and staring at that little she-cat in the window overthere, that screeches and becks and pats herself, all for showing off!And you, Hugo Gottfried, like a great oaf, thinking all the time howinnocent and sweet and--oh, I have no patience with you!--to neglect andthink nothing of--of Katrin Texel, and--and then to go gazing and gapingafter a thing like that!"
And I declare there were tears in the Little Playmate's eyes.
"Dear Little Sister, why are you so mindful about Katrin Texel?" said I."Faith, my lass, wait till she comes again, and I will court her to yourheart's content. There--there--I will be a very Valentine's true lover toyour Katrin."
For all that she was not greatly cheered, but edged away, still strangelydisconsolate when I came near and tried to pet her. Mysterious and hiddenare the ways of women! For once, when I would have put my hand about herpretty slender waist, she promptly took me by the wrist, and holding itat arm's-length, she dropped it from her with a disgustful curl of herlip, as if it had been an intruding spider she had perforce to put forthout of her chamber into the garden.
Yet formerly, upon occasion when, as it might be,
she was reading orlooking out of the window, if I but came behind her and called her"Little Sister," I might even put my hand upon her shoulder, and so standfor five minutes at a time and she never seem to notice it.
The Red Axe Page 12