Again years have passed. One warm afternoon in spring a young man,whose sunburnt face was the picture of health, was walking along ashady road through the wood leading down to the valley below.
His grave dark eyes looked intently into the distance, as though hewas expecting to find every moment some change in the monotony of theroad, a change however which seemed reluctant to come about. At lengthhe saw a cart slowly coming up from below.
"Hullo! my friend," shouted the traveller to the farmer, who waswalking by the side of the cart, "is this the right road to Immensee?"
"Yes, straight on," answered the man touching his slouch hat.
"Is it still far off?"
"You are close to the place, sir. In less time than it takes to smokehalf a pipe of tobacco you'll be at the lake side, and the manor ishard by."
The farmer passed on while the other quickened his pace as he wentalong under the trees. After a quarter of an hour's walk the shade tothe left of him suddenly came to an end; the road led along a steepslope from which the ancient oaks growing below hardly reared theirtopmost branches.
Away over their crests opened out a broad, sunny landscape. Far belowlay the peaceful, dark-blue lake, almost entirely surrounded by greensun-lit woods, save where on one spot they divided and afforded anextensive view until it closed in the distant blue mountains.
Straight opposite, in the middle of all this forest verdure, there laya patch of white, like driven snow. This was an expanse of blossomingfruit-trees, and out of them, up on the high lake shore, rose themanor-house, shining white, with tiles of red. A stork flew up fromthe chimney, and circled slowly above the waters.
"Immensee!" exclaimed the traveller.
It almost seemed as if he had now reached the end of his journey, forhe stood motionless, looking out over the tops of the trees at hisfeet, and gazing at the farther shore, where the reflection of themanor-house floated, rocking gently, on the bosom of the water. Thenhe suddenly started on his way again.
His road now led almost steeply down the mountain-side, so that thetrees that had once stood below him again gave him their shade, but atthe same time cut off from him the view of the lake, which only nowand then peeped out between the gaps in the branches.
Soon the way went gently upwards again, and to left and right thewoods disappeared, yielding place to vine-clad hills stretching alongthe pathway; while on either side stood fruit-trees in blossom, filledwith the hum of the bees as they busily pried into the blossoms. Atall man wearing a brown overcoat advanced to meet the traveller. Whenhe had almost come up to him, he waved his cap and cried out in a loudvoice:
"Welcome, welcome, brother Reinhard! Welcome to my Immensee estate!"
"God's greeting to you[4], Eric, and thank you foryour welcome," replied the other.
[4] This form of salutation is especially common in the south ofGermany.
By this time they had come up close to one another, and clasped hands.
"And is it really you?" said Eric, when he at last got a near sight ofthe grave face of his old school-fellow.
"It is I right enough, Eric, and I recognize you too; only you almostlook cheerier than you ever did before."
At these words a glad smile made Eric's plain features all the morecheerful.
"Yes, brother Reinhard," he said, as he once more held out his hand tohim, "but since those days, you see, I have won the great prize; butyou know that well enough."
Then he rubbed his hands and cried cheerily: "This _will_ be asurprise! You are the last person she expects to see."
"A surprise?" asked Reinhard. "For whom, pray?"
"Why, for Elisabeth."
"Elisabeth! You haven't told her a word about my visit?"
"Not a word, brother Reinhard; she has no thought of you, nor hermother either. I invited you entirely on the quiet, in order that thepleasure might be all the greater. You know I always had little quietschemes of my own."
Reinhard turned thoughtful; he seemed to breathe more heavily thenearer they approached the house.
On the left side of the road the vineyards came to an end, and gaveplace to an extensive kitchen-garden, which reached almost as far asthe lake-shore. The stork had meanwhile come to earth and was stridingsolemnly between the vegetable beds.
"Hullo!" cried Eric, clapping his hands together, "if that long-leggedEgyptian isn't stealing my short pea-sticks again!"
The bird slowly rose and flew on to the roof of a new building, whichran along the end of the kitchen-garden, and whose walls were coveredwith the branches of the peach and apricot trees that were trainedover them.
"That's the distillery," said Eric. "I built it only two years ago. Mylate father had the farm buildings rebuilt; the dwelling-house wasbuilt as far back as my grandfather's time. So we go ever forward alittle bit at a time."
Talking thus they came to a wide, open space, enclosed at the sides byfarm-buildings, and in the rear by the manor-house, the two wings ofwhich were connected by a high garden wall. Behind this wall ran darkhedges of yew trees, while here and there syringa trees trailed theirblossoming branches over into the courtyard.
Men with faces scorched by the sun and heated with toil were walkingover the open space and gave a greeting to the two friends, while Ericcalled out to one or another of them some order or question abouttheir day's work.
By this time they had reached the house. They entered a high, coolvestibule, at the far end of which they turned to the left into asomewhat darker passage.
Here Eric opened a door and they passed into a spacious room thatopened into a garden. The heavy mass of leafage that covered theopposite windows filled this room at either end with a green twilight,while between the windows two lofty wide-open folding-doors let in thefull glow of spring sunshine, and afforded a view into a garden, laidout with circular flower-beds and steep hedgerows and divided by astraight, broad path, along which the eye roamed out on to the lakeand away over the woods growing on the opposite shore.
As the two friends entered, a breath of wind bore in upon them aperfect stream of fragrance.
On a terrace in front of the door leading to the garden sat a girlishfigure dressed in white. She rose and came to meet the two friends asthey entered, but half-way she stood stock-still as if rooted to thespot and stared at the stranger. With a smile he held out his hand toher.
"Reinhard!" she cried. "Reinhard! Oh! is it you? It is such a longtime since we have seen each other."
"Yes, a long time," he said, and not a word more could he utter; foron hearing her voice he felt a keen, physical pain at his heart, andas he looked up to her, there she stood before him, the same slight,graceful figure to whom he had said farewell years ago in the townwhere he was born.
Eric had stood back by the door, with joy beaming from his eyes.
"Now, then, Elisabeth," he said, "isn't he really the very last personin the world you would have expected to see?"
Elisabeth looked at him with the eyes of a sister. "You are so kind,Eric," she said.
He took her slender hand caressingly in his. "And now that we havehim," he said, "we shall not be in a hurry to let him go. He has beenso long away abroad, we will try to make him feel at home again. Justsee how foreign-looking he has become, and what a distinguishedappearance he has!"
Elisabeth shyly scanned Reinhard's face. "The time that we have beenseparated is enough to account for that," she said.
At this moment in at the door came her mother, key-basket on arm.
"Herr Werner!" she cried, when she caught sight of Reinhard; "ah! youare as dearly welcome as you are unexpected."
And so the conversation went smoothly on with questions and answers.The ladies sat over their work, and while Reinhard enjoyed therefreshment that had been prepared for him, Eric had lighted his hugemeerschaum pipe and sat smoking and conversing by his side.
Next day Reinhard had to go out with him to see the fields, thevineyards, the hop-garden, the distillery. It was all well appointed;the people who were
working on the land or at the vats all had ahealthy and contented look.
For dinner the family assembled in the room that opened into thegarden, and the day was spent more or less in company just accordingto the leisure of the host and hostess. Only during the hourspreceding the evening meal, as also during the early hours of theforenoon, did Reinhard stay working in his own room.
For some years past, whenever he could come across them, he had beencollecting the rhymes and songs that form part of the life of thepeople, and now set about arranging his treasure, and whereverpossible increasing it by means of fresh records from the immediateneighbourhood.
Elisabeth was at all times gentle and kind. Eric's constant attentionsshe received with an almost humble gratitude, and Reinhard thought atwhiles that the gay, cheerful child of bygone days had given promiseof a somewhat less sedate womanhood.
Ever since the second day of his visit he had been wont of an eveningto take a walk along the shore of the lake. The road led along closeunder the garden. At the end of the latter, on a projecting mound,there was a bench under some tall birch trees. Elisabeth's mother hadchristened it the Evening Bench, because the spot faced westward, andwas mostly used at that time of the day in order to enjoy a view ofthe sunset.
One evening Reinhard was returning from his walk along this road whenhe was overtaken by the rain. He sought shelter under one of thelinden trees that grew by the water-side, but the heavy drops weresoon pelting through the leaves. Wet through as he was he resignedhimself to his fate and slowly continued his homeward way.
It was almost dark; the rain fell faster and faster. As he drew nearto the Evening Bench he fancied he could make out the figure of awoman dressed in white standing among the gleaming birch tree trunks.She stood motionless, and, as far as he could make out on approachingnearer, with her face turned in his direction, as if she was expectingsome one.
He thought it was Elisabeth. But when he quickened his pace in orderthat he might catch up to her and then return together with herthrough the garden into the house, she turned slowly away anddisappeared among the dark side-paths.
He could not understand it; he was almost angry with Elisabeth, and yethe doubted whether it had really been she. He was, however, shy ofquestioning her about it--nay, he even avoided going into thegarden-room on his return to the house for fear he should happen to seeElisabeth enter through the garden-door.
* * * * *
BY MY MOTHER'S HARD DECREE
Immensee Page 7