by Thomas Hardy
VII.
The De Stancys and Powers remained in Heidelberg for some days. Allremarked that after Somerset's departure Paula was frequently irritable,though at other times as serene as ever. Yet even when in a blithe andsaucy mood there was at bottom a tinge of melancholy. Something did notlie easy in her undemonstrative heart, and all her friends excused theinequalities of a humour whose source, though not positively known,could be fairly well guessed.
De Stancy had long since discovered that his chance lay chiefly inher recently acquired and fanciful predilection d'artiste for hoarymediaeval families with ancestors in alabaster and primogenitive renown.Seeing this he dwelt on those topics which brought out that aspect ofhimself more clearly, talking feudalism and chivalry with a zest thathe had never hitherto shown. Yet it was not altogether factitious.For, discovering how much this quondam Puritan was interested in theattributes of long-chronicled houses, a reflected interest in himselfarose in his own soul, and he began to wonder why he had not prizedthese things before. Till now disgusted by the failure of his family tohold its own in the turmoil between ancient and modern, he had grown toundervalue its past prestige; and it was with corrective ardour that headopted while he ministered to her views.
Henceforward the wooing of De Stancy took the form of an intermittentaddress, the incidents of their travel furnishing pegs whereon to hanghis subject; sometimes hindering it, but seldom failing to produce inher a greater tolerance of his presence. His next opportunity was theday after Somerset's departure from Heidelberg. They stood on the greatterrace of the Schloss-Garten, looking across the intervening ravineto the north-east front of the castle which rose before them in all itscustomary warm tints and battered magnificence.
'This is a spot, if any, which should bring matters to a crisis betweenyou and me,' he asserted good-humouredly. 'But you have been so silentto-day that I lose the spirit to take advantage of my privilege.'
She inquired what privilege he spoke of, as if quite another subject hadbeen in her mind than De Stancy.
'The privilege of winning your heart if I can, which you gave me atCarlsruhe.'
'O,' she said. 'Well, I've been thinking of that. But I do not feelmyself absolutely bound by the statement I made in that room; and Ishall expect, if I withdraw it, not to be called to account by you.'
De Stancy looked rather blank.
'If you recede from your promise you will doubtless have good reason.But I must solemnly beg you, after raising my hopes, to keep as near asyou can to your word, so as not to throw me into utter despair.'
Paula dropped her glance into the Thier-Garten below them, where gaypromenaders were clambering up between the bushes and flowers. At lengthshe said, with evident embarrassment, but with much distinctness: 'Ideserve much more blame for what I have done than you can express to me.I will confess to you the whole truth. All that I told you in the hotelat Carlsruhe was said in a moment of pique at what had happened justbefore you came in. It was supposed I was much involved with anotherman, and circumstances made the supposition particularly objectionable.To escape it I jumped at the alternative of yourself.'
'That's bad for me!' he murmured.
'If after this avowal you bind me to my words I shall say no more: I donot wish to recede from them without your full permission.'
'What a caprice! But I release you unconditionally,' he said. 'And I begyour pardon if I seemed to show too much assurance. Please put it downto my gratified excitement. I entirely acquiesce in your wish. I will goaway to whatever place you please, and not come near you but by your ownpermission, and till you are quite satisfied that my presence and whatit may lead to is not undesirable. I entirely give way before you, andwill endeavour to make my future devotedness, if ever we meet again, anew ground for expecting your favour.'
Paula seemed struck by the generous and cheerful fairness of hisremarks, and said gently, 'Perhaps your departure is not absolutelynecessary for my happiness; and I do not wish from what you callcaprice--'
'I retract that word.'
'Well, whatever it is, I don't wish you to do anything which shouldcause you real pain, or trouble, or humiliation.'
'That's very good of you.'
'But I reserve to myself the right to accept or refuse youraddresses--just as if those rash words of mine had never been spoken.'
'I must bear it all as best I can, I suppose,' said De Stancy, withmelancholy humorousness.
'And I shall treat you as your behaviour shall seem to deserve,' shesaid playfully.
'Then I may stay?'
'Yes; I am willing to give you that pleasure, if it is one, in returnfor the attentions you have shown, and the trouble you have taken tomake my journey pleasant.'
She walked on and discovered Mrs. Goodman near, and presently the wholeparty met together. De Stancy did not find himself again at her sidetill later in the afternoon, when they had left the immediate precinctsof the castle and decided on a drive to the Konigsstuhl.
The carriage, containing only Mrs. Goodman, was driven a short way upthe winding incline, Paula, her uncle, and Miss De Stancy walking behindunder the shadow of the trees. Then Mrs. Goodman called to them andasked when they were going to join her.
'We are going to walk up,' said Mr. Power.
Paula seemed seized with a spirit of boisterousness quite unlike herusual behaviour. 'My aunt may drive up, and you may walk up; but Ishall run up,' she said. 'See, here's a way.' She tripped towards a paththrough the bushes which, instead of winding like the regular track,made straight for the summit.
Paula had not the remotest conception of the actual distance to the top,imagining it to be but a couple of hundred yards at the outside, whereasit was really nearer a mile, the ascent being uniformly steep all theway. When her uncle and De Stancy had seen her vanish they stoodstill, the former evidently reluctant to forsake the easy ascent for adifficult one, though he said, 'We can't let her go alone that way, Isuppose.'
'No, of course not,' said De Stancy.
They then followed in the direction taken by Paula, Charlotte enteringthe carriage. When Power and De Stancy had ascended about fifty yardsthe former looked back, and dropped off from the pursuit, to return tothe easy route, giving his companion a parting hint concerning Paula.Whereupon De Stancy went on alone. He soon saw Paula above him in thepath, which ascended skyward straight as Jacob's Ladder, but was sooverhung by the brushwood as to be quite shut out from the sun. When hereached her side she was moving easily upward, apparently enjoying theseclusion which the place afforded.
'Is not my uncle with you?' she said, on turning and seeing him.
'He went back,' said De Stancy.
She replied that it was of no consequence; that she should meet him atthe top, she supposed.
Paula looked up amid the green light which filtered through the leafageas far as her eyes could stretch. But the top did not appear, and sheallowed De Stancy to get in front. 'It did not seem such a long way asthis, to look at,' she presently said.
He explained that the trees had deceived her as to the real height, byreason of her seeing the slope foreshortened when she looked up from thecastle. 'Allow me to help you,' he added.
'No, thank you,' said Paula lightly; 'we must be near the top.'
They went on again; but no Konigsstuhl. When next De Stancy turned hefound that she was sitting down; immediately going back he offered hisarm. She took it in silence, declaring that it was no wonder her uncledid not come that wearisome way, if he had ever been there before.
De Stancy did not explain that Mr. Power had said to him at parting,'There's a chance for you, if you want one,' but at once went on withthe subject begun on the terrace. 'If my behaviour is good, you willreaffirm the statement made at Carlsruhe?'
'It is not fair to begin that now!' expostulated Paula; 'I can onlythink of getting to the top.'
Her colour deepening by the exertion, he suggested that she should sitdown again on one of the mossy boulders by the wayside. Nothing loth shedid, De Stanc
y standing by, and with his cane scratching the moss fromthe stone.
'This is rather awkward,' said Paula, in her usual circumspect way. 'Myrelatives and your sister will be sure to suspect me of having arrangedthis scramble with you.'
'But I know better,' sighed De Stancy. 'I wish to Heaven you hadarranged it!'
She was not at the top, but she took advantage of the halt to answer hisprevious question. 'There are many points on which I must be satisfiedbefore I can reaffirm anything. Do you not see that you are mistakenin clinging to this idea?--that you are laying up mortification anddisappointment for yourself?'
'A negative reply from you would be disappointment, early or late.'
'And you prefer having it late to accepting it now? If I were a man, Ishould like to abandon a false scent as soon as possible.'
'I suppose all that has but one meaning: that I am to go.'
'O no,' she magnanimously assured him, bounding up from her seat; 'Iadhere to my statement that you may stay; though it is true somethingmay possibly happen to make me alter my mind.'
He again offered his arm, and from sheer necessity she leant upon it asbefore.
'Grant me but a moment's patience,' he began.
'Captain De Stancy! Is this fair? I am physically obliged to hold yourarm, so that I MUST listen to what you say!'
'No, it is not fair; 'pon my soul it is not!' said De Stancy. 'I won'tsay another word.'
He did not; and they clambered on through the boughs, nothing disturbingthe solitude but the rustle of their own footsteps and the singing ofbirds overhead. They occasionally got a peep at the sky; and whenever atwig hung out in a position to strike Paula's face the gallant captainbent it aside with his stick. But she did not thank him. Perhaps he wasjust as well satisfied as if she had done so.
Paula, panting, broke the silence: 'Will you go on, and discover if thetop is near?'
He went on. This time the top was near. When he returned she was sittingwhere he had left her among the leaves. 'It is quite near now,' he toldher tenderly, and she took his arm again without a word. Soon the pathchanged its nature from a steep and rugged watercourse to a level greenpromenade.
'Thank you, Captain De Stancy,' she said, letting go his arm as ifrelieved.
Before them rose the tower, and at the base they beheld two of theirfriends, Mr. Power being seen above, looking over the parapet throughhis glass.
'You will go to the top now?' said De Stancy.
'No, I take no interest in it. My interest has turned to fatigue. I onlywant to go home.'
He took her on to where the carriage stood at the foot of the tower,and leaving her with his sister ascended the turret to the top. Thelandscape had quite changed from its afternoon appearance, and hadbecome rather marvellous than beautiful. The air was charged with alurid exhalation that blurred the extensive view. He could see thedistant Rhine at its junction with the Neckar, shining like a threadof blood through the mist which was gradually wrapping up the decliningsun. The scene had in it something that was more than melancholy,and not much less than tragic; but for De Stancy such evening effectspossessed little meaning. He was engaged in an enterprise that taxed allhis resources, and had no sentiments to spare for air, earth, or skies.
'Remarkable scene,' said Power, mildly, at his elbow.
'Yes; I dare say it is,' said De Stancy. 'Time has been when I shouldhave held forth upon such a prospect, and wondered if its livid coloursshadowed out my own life, et caetera, et caetera. But, begad, I havealmost forgotten there's such a thing as Nature, and I care for nothingbut a comfortable life, and a certain woman who does not care for me!...Now shall we go down?'