"What has changed you, mademoiselle, may I be permitted to ask?"
"I do not know myself, Grete. But I have turned an old woman since I came to the Black Forest; and I shall go back to England with a sort of fear, as if I had never been there before."
_Since she came to the Black Forest_. For a moment a suspicion crossed Grete"s mind that she must be miserable through loving some one; but so completely had she been imbued with the idea of her companion being some mysteriously beautiful and n.o.ble creature, who could not be moved by the meaner loves and thoughts of a girl like herself, that she at once dismissed the supposition. Perhaps, she thought, the shock of severely injuring her friend still affected her, and had induced a temporary despondency. Grete therefore resolved, in her direct way, to be as amusing as possible; and she never tired of directing her companion"s attention to the beautiful and wonderful things they saw on their way-the scarlet gra.s.shoppers which rattled their wings among the warm gra.s.s, the brilliantly-coloured beetles, the picturesque crucifixes by the wayside, or the simultaneous splash of a lot of tiny fish among the reeds as some savage pike made a rush at them from the deeper water.
In process of time they left the soft blue breadth of the lake behind them, and found themselves in the valley leading up to the Feldberg.
Grete struck an independent zigzag course up the hill"s side, clambering up rocky slopes, cutting through patches of forest, and so on, until they found themselves on the high mountain-road loading to their destination. Nothing was to be seen of the carriage; and so they went on alone, into the silence of the tall pines, while the valley beneath them gradually grew wider, and the horizon beyond grew more and more distant.
Now they were really in the Black Forest of the old romances-not the low-lying districts, where the trees are of modern growth, but up in the rocky wilderness, where the magnificent trunks were encrusted and coated with lichens of immemorial age-where the spongy yellow-green moss, here and there of a dull crimson, would let a man sink to the waist-where the wild profusion of underwood was rank and strong with the heat of the sun and the moisture of innumerable streams trickling down their rocky channels in the hillside-where the yellow light, falling between the splendid stems of the trees, glimmered away down the narrow avenues, and seemed to conjure up strange forms and faces out of the still brushwood and the fantastic grey lichens which hung everywhere around. Several times a c.o.c.k capercailzie, with two or three hens under his protection, would rise with a prodigious noise and disappear in the green darkness overhead; occasionally a mountain-hare flew past; and Grete, with an inherited interest, pointed out to her friend the tiny footmarks of the deer on the sand of the rough and winding road.
"See, mademoiselle, there is Aenchen Baumer"s house."
They had come to an opening in the pines which revealed the broad yellow valley beneath, with its sunlit road running like a thread of silk through it. Grete"s friend"s house was a little white building, with green cas.e.m.e.nts, and a few vines growing up one of the gables; it was separated from the road by a paling which interrupted the long line of rough stone posts which a paternal government had stuck in the ground to prevent carriages tumbling still farther down into the bed of the hollow.
"You have come a long way out of your road, Grete," said Miss Brunel.
"I came to accompany you, mademoiselle. I can easily go back to Aenchen"s house before the evening."
The upward road now grew more and more jagged, rough, and full of mud-holes, until, at last, they left the forest region altogether, and got into the high pasture districts of the mountain. Finally, as the path became a track, gra.s.s-grown and rocky, they arrived at a square grey building, with a small garden attached, which stood on the summit of the shoulder of the hill.
"It is the Feldberg Inn," said Grete.
"Is it pleasant to live on the top of the mountain?" asked her companion.
"Oh, yes, mademoiselle; only it is a little cold. And when you look out at night-in the moonlight-it frightens one; for all the house seems surrounded by a yellow mist, which floats about and makes figures, and then it sweeps away, and you see the garden sharp and clear. It is the clouds, you know. Franz Gersbach has told me of his having been on the top of the Niessen one morning before sunrise, and while all the great mountains opposite-the Jungfrau, and the Monch, and the Eiger, and all these-were still cold and dark, he saw Monte Rosa and Mont Blanc, away down in the south, with a pale pink flame on their peaks in the midst of the green sky. Here we have no snow on our mountains, except in the winter-time; and then sometimes the people up here have their supplies cut off for a long time."
There was a tall, fair-faced, sleepy-looking man standing at the door of the inn, with whom Grete shook hands. The giant blushed slightly, answered her questions in laconic monosyllables, and then led the way into the house, apparently relieved to be out of the observation of the two girls.
"It is the landlord"s brother," said Grete, "and a friend of mine."
"You have a number of friends," said Annie Brunel, with a smile; "and they seem to be all big men. If you were as small as I am, one might account for your liking big men."
Grete Halm looked at her companion. There could be no doubt about the German girl being the taller and certainly the stouter of the two; and yet until that moment she had fancied that Miss Brunel was ever so much taller than she.
"It is the manner of your walk, mademoiselle, and your figure-and perhaps the expression of your face-that make me think you tall. No, I see you are not tall."
For a moment Margarethe"s soft brown eyes dwelt on her companion-perhaps with a touch of wistful, puzzled longing to know why grace of form should so touch our sympathies; then she turned to the large Heinrich Holzmann-whose big shoulders should have been more attractive to a girl"s eye than another girl"s waist-and said that the young English lady wished the best apartments in the house. Margarethe further gave him to understand that his guests would be very particular about their cookery; and, above all, that they would not submit to have but one fork and knife to attend them through four or five courses. Heinrich said "Yaw" in a grave manner to all her directions, and begged her to tell the English lady that his brother, who spoke French, would be home next day.
"But the lady and her friend-who will be here presently-must not starve till to-morrow," said the practical Grete.
"Nein," said Heinrich, absently.
"I mean they must have dinner here, and you must look after it, Heinrich Holzmann."
"Ja, ja."
"You have plenty in the house?"
"Ja."
"The lady says that after the carriage arrives, you can have dinner prepared: that is, the lady and her friend at one table, and Hermann Lowe, the coachman, and I at another. Do you understand?"
"Freilich.",
"If the girls want help, ask me."
"Danke schon, Grete."
"And as you don"t seem to have anybody here, shall I take the lady upstairs and pick out what rooms she wants?"
"Yes, if that pleases you," said the fair-haired giant; and therewith he opened the door for Miss Brunel, and made her a grave bow as she went with Grete into the pa.s.sage, and so up to the rooms above.
It was nearly half an hour afterwards that the carriage arrived, and Mrs. Christmas, with much excitement, caught Annie in her arms and kissed her, declaring she had never expected to see her again. The road they had come!-the precipices they had skirted, with the three horses slipping on the smooth rocks at the very brink!-the vehicle leaning over as if it were about to topple headlong down!-the jolting into deep ruts and over blocks of stone!
"I screamed," she said, "and insisted on being helped out of the carriage; for they would have me sit still, declaring there was no danger. Danger!--"
And the little woman shivered.
"So you walked all the way?"
"Until we got down into the valley."
Grete and Hermann were invited to dine with the two ladies; and, in the evening, they all convoyed the young German girl down to the house of her friend.
For several days they remained on the Feldberg, beguiling the time as best they might. Mrs. Christmas had now quite recovered her normal condition of health and spirits, and laboured hard to discover why her companion was so preoccupied, restless, and absent in manner. Why, too, was this journey down through Switzerland being indefinitely postponed?
Every morning it was--
"Miss Annie, do we start to-day?"
"Not to-day, mother. Let us have another day"s quiet."
"You will kill yourself with dulness, Miss Annie. There is nothing for you to do."
"Let us climb to the top of the peak, and see the tower--"
"I have tried twice, and failed. And if you persist in going up there alone, you will tumble down into that horrible lake you told me of."
"Then let us descend to the lake to-day, if you please."
She could not leave the neighbourhood. She lingered there, day after day, that she might have tidings from Schonstein. Two letters she had received from the Count told her nothing definite; they were very polite, grave, respectful communications, in which he hoped she would visit Schonstein again on her return. Hermann, on going back to his master, had written to Grete Halm, and merely mentioned that the English gentleman was still in his room, and that the surgeon did not speak very confidently of the case.
This day, also, she prevailed on Mrs. Christmas to stay; and together, after breakfast, they set out in quest of the Feldsee, the small lake that lies deep down in the heart of the mountain. They were furnished with a few directions from Heinrich Holzmann"s brother; but as neither time nor direction was of much consequence to them, they plunged carelessly into the forest, and proceeded slowly to descend the side of the mountain. At last, they came upon a path which led down through the jumbled and picturesque confusion of shattered rock, smooth boulder, moss, fern, and herbage, that lay around the foot of the tall, resinous-smelling pines; and this track they leisurely followed until, from the twilight of the trees, it led them out into the obscure daylight which dwelt over the gloomy tarn they sought.
Nothing could well be more lonely or melancholy than this dark and silent lake lying in its circular bed-evidently an extinct volcanic crater-overshadowed by tall and perpendicular crags hemming it in on every side, and scarcely ever having a breath of wind to stir its leaden-like surface. The tall thinly-clad rocks, rising to the circular breadth of white sky above, were faintly mirrored in the black water underneath; and the gloomy stillness of the quiet motionless picture was not relieved by the least stir or sound of any living thing. This hideous hole, its surface nearly four thousand feet above the level of the sea, is of unknown depth: no wonder that the superst.i.tious Schwarzwalders have legends about it, and that the children tell you of the demon-deer that was wont to spring over the tall precipices above, and so lure on the unwary huntsman and his horse to destruction.
There was a boat lying moored in a creek at one corner of the lake, and of this Annie Brunel at once took possession. She insisted on Mrs.
Christmas getting into it; and then, with a few strokes of the oars, she pulled out to the centre of the lake. Mrs. Christmas did not at all like the aspect of the place; and, if she had known that she was floating over an extinct volcano, she would probably have liked it less.
"It looks like a place for murders to be committed," she said.