The candidate followed the direction of her eyes, and saw a horseman trotting quickly along the high road in the blue uniform of a dragoon.
He must have called out to the pastor, for he stood still; he then turned round and walked back to the road, and held out his hand to the officer, who had reined in his horse.
After a short conversation, the officer rode on, waving his hand to Helena, whom he had seen at the window. She returned his greeting by bending her head.
"Who is that?" asked the candidate.
"Lieutenant von Wendenstein," she replied, and left the window to light the spirit-lamp upon the table, and to prepare afresh the coffee, which her father had before been prevented from drinking.
The candidate watched all her movements with a scrutinizing look.
After a few minutes the pastor entered the room.
"Thank G.o.d," he said, "it was nothing dangerous. A severe cold, with a good deal of fever; but it is a peculiarity amongst the people here, who, from their simple lives and strong const.i.tutions, know little of sickness, that they believe every illness must prove fatal."
He exchanged his hat for his little cap, and seated himself in his arm-chair, his face wearing an unusually grave expression.
"The lieutenant has just returned," he said.
"I saw him just now," remarked Helena, as she handed her father a fresh cup of coffee. "What brings him at so unusual a time--generally he comes only on Sundays?"
"Things look very bad," said the pastor. "War appears inevitable, and for the present no more leave will be given; the lieutenant therefore has ridden over this afternoon to bid them good-bye at home. He begged that we would walk over there soon--he will leave early, as he must return to-night."
Helena"s hand trembled as she again prepared her father"s pipe.
"My heart aches," he continued, "for our good friend von Wendenstein and his gentle, loving wife. This fearful war may rob them of their son in the very flower of his youth."
He took his pipe dreamily from his daughter"s hand, whilst, bending over him, she offered him a light. She then hastened to the door.
"Where are you going, my child?"
"Before we walk to the castle," she replied, with an unusual vibration in her voice, "I must see about several things in the house." Without looking round, she left the room.
The candidate gazed after her rather inquisitively; he then seated himself by the pastor, and said, after folding his hands together,--
"My dear uncle, from the moment of entering your house, where I hope, G.o.d willing, to be your faithful companion in your holy office, I wish to take up my position on a foundation of truth; this should be the rule of conduct for all, but especially for one who takes upon him the life of a clergyman."
The pastor smoked his pipe, looking as if he scarcely understood what this was to lead to.
"My mother has often told me how much she desired that I should be united to you even more closely than by our present bond of relationship, and how she hoped my coming here might be the guidance of heaven, pointing out to me your daughter Helena as my true and Christian wife."
The pastor smoked on in silence, but his expression showed that this idea was neither new nor disagreeable to him.
"Often she has said," continued the candidate, ""How much I should rejoice if I could see you the support of my brother"s old age, and if he could feel that in you he had a protector for his daughter when it should please G.o.d to call him to Himself." Certainly," he continued, his eyes studying the expression of his uncle"s face, "certainly the outward cares of life will not be hers."
"No," cried the old gentleman cheerfully, as he blew an enormous cloud from his pipe, "no, thank G.o.d! as far as that goes, I can depart in peace when my Master in heaven calls me. The small fortune I inherited from my uncle has greatly increased, for I have scarcely ever needed to spend more than the half of my income as pastor, and unless G.o.d should take away what He has given, when He calls me home my daughter need have no trouble as far as money is concerned."
"But," continued the candidate, an almost imperceptible smile of satisfaction playing around his thin lips, ""but she will still need a protecting arm, and if you could afford her this, perhaps in the very home where she has pa.s.sed her childhood, how happy it would make me."
This is what my mother has often said to me."
"Yes, yes, my good sister," said the pastor, with an affectionate smile,--"fate separated us completely, not perhaps as things are now, for the borders of Brunswick may be reached in a day, but in our calling travelling is difficult!--her true heart has always kept its affection for me."
The candidate proceeded:
"My mother"s wish pleased me much, but I set it aside as an open question, for according to my ideas a marriage should only take place from mutual inclination, arising from sympathy between two hearts, and therefore it was needful we should know one another. But since I have been here, and during the few days I pa.s.sed in your society in Hanover, my mother"s wish has become my own. I find in Helena all those qualities which I hold most necessary to enable her to fulfil the duties of the Christian wife of a clergyman, and to render the life of her husband happy, and therefore (that everything may be clear and true between us) I ask you, my dear uncle, if you will permit me to endeavour to gain your daughter"s affections, and if after a more intimate acquaintance I should succeed, whether you will be willing to trust her to me for life?"
The old gentleman took the pipe from his mouth, and held out his hand to his nephew.
"You have acted well and honestly," he said, "in speaking to me thus, uprightly and honourably, and I will answer you in the same upright and honourable manner. What your mother," he continued, "thought and said, pa.s.sed also through my mind, and I own that when I obtained your nomination here, I thought it would make me happy if you became mutually attached; then when I felt my strength failing me I could resign, and still see my dear daughter ruling the loved home where she grew up, and which her gentle, affectionate mother first made so dear to me."
The old man was silent for a few moments, and tears stood in his eyes.
The candidate"s features expressed extreme satisfaction.
"With my whole heart, my dear nephew," resumed the pastor, "I give you leave to woo my Helena, and if you obtain her love I will joyfully give my blessing to your union, both as a father and as a priest. But do not be hasty--give her time--she is of a timid disposition, and shrinks in alarm from everything that is new. Learn really to know one another; you will have plenty of time."
The candidate pressed his uncle"s hand.
"I thank you most heartily," he said, "for your permission, rest a.s.sured I will not try to take her heart by storm; no sudden blazing fire beseems a Christian marriage, our hearts should feel a pure and quiet flame."
At this moment Helena returned; she wore a light-coloured dress, and a straw hat, ornamented with some small flowers. There was a rosy tint upon her cheeks, and her eyes shone with enthusiasm, but as if through a veil of tears, yet her lips smiled.
She looked extremely beautiful; she nodded affectionately to her father as she entered the room, but she cast down her eyes when she saw the look with which the candidate surveyed her whole appearance.
"I am ready, papa," she said.
"Quite right my child; then we can go."
He stood up, and laid aside his cap.
"You must accompany us," he said to his nephew; "I will introduce you to our president."
"Should I not first call at the castle?" asked the candidate.
"You will do so now with me," replied the pastor; "we are not formal people here,--I answer for it you will always be welcomed by our friends."
The candidate put on his glossy, well-brushed black hat, and they all three left the parsonage.
In the old castle at Blechow, the president"s family was a.s.sembled in the large garden drawing-room. Madame von Wendenstein sat on the large sofa, in her snow-white point-lace cap and flowing dark silk dress, and her daughter was preparing the tea-table at an earlier hour than usual.
The lieutenant had drawn a low arm-chair close to his mother, and was endeavouring to amuse her with lively conversation, and she sometimes replied to his remarks with a melancholy smile, though she could not prevent the tears from falling upon her white hands, as she mechanically continued her needle-work.
The president walked up and down the room in silence, pausing sometimes at the open door to gaze beyond the terrace at the landscape bathed in the warm light of the summer evening.
"Don"t damp the boy"s spirits," he said, standing before his wife, and speaking in a voice of forced harshness; "a soldier should always set out willingly and joyfully to a war, when a war comes, for that is his business, and he ought to rejoice at the opportunity of following his calling, and doing his duty in earnest. Besides which, nothing is yet certain," he added, partly to console his wife, partly to allay his own anxiety; "though they must be ready for anything that may occur, the tempest may still pa.s.s over."
"I will not certainly take from him his cheerful pleasure in doing his duty," said Madame von Wendenstein in a gentle voice, "but I cannot help being sad in this dark and heavy hour. We shall sit here at home alone with our thoughts and our cares, whilst he will hurry about in the open air, with the constant variety of change. He will soon recover his spirits. Is your linen all in order?" she said, turning to her son, as if she wished to diminish her sorrow by material cares for the child who was soon to encounter such dangers.
"My linen is in the most excellent order, mother," replied the lieutenant cheerfully. "But if we really march, I shall not be able to take much with me,--our baggage must be small. Where is the pastor?" he exclaimed? "he promised me to spend the last few hours here.
_Apropos_," he added, "have they visitors at the parsonage? I saw a gentleman in the dress of a clergyman, standing by Helena at the window."