As I leaned back in my reclining chair and let my tired eyes roam over the familiar fields, one shade after another came alive again, and the first one in the motley throng was--my dear, flaxen--haired goose-herd.
"What has become of him?" I asked my brother, and was rejoiced by the good news that he had grown up into a fine, good-looking young man and could already fully take the place of his father, the smith.
I felt my heart throbbing. I tried to scold myself for my folly, but with poor success. The dear old memories were not to be dismissed, and finally I yielded myself up to them unrestrainedly and pictured the manner of our seeing each other again in all the glowing colours of fairy tale romance.
A few days after my arrival I was allowed to take my first drive. I was lifted into a carriage, driven to the woods, and then set down on a soft, mossy, peaceful little spot, which I had selected deliberately.
From it you could see the smithy in which the companion of my childhood dwelt.
My brother wanted to stay with me, but I begged him not to let me keep him from his work, and a.s.sured him that the little girl sent along to wait on me was quite enough protection. Besides, what was there to be afraid of in these peaceful home woods? So, the coachman drove my brother back to his office on the estate, and they were to call for me again in two hours. Then I dismissed the little girl, too, telling her to go hunt strawberries but to stay nearby. She ran off happily.
I was alone at last! Now I could dream to my heart"s content. The fir trees rustled overhead, and from the smithy came the dull blows of the hammer. Brightly glowed the fire in the forge, and every now and then a dark figure glided in front of it. That must be he.
I did not tire following the movements of his arms. I admired his strength and trembled for him when the sparks flew about his body.
The two hours went by unnoticed, and in the midst of my dreamy meditations I was surprised by my brother coming to call for me.
"Well, did it seem a long time?" my brother asked gaily.
I shook my head, smiling, and tried to get up, but sank back wearily.
"Hm, hm," said my brother, reflecting. "I didn"t bring the coachman back, thinking I could carry you to the carriage by myself, but the seat is high, and I couldn"t get you up without hurting you. See here, Grete,"--he turned to my little companion, who had come running at the sound of the carriage--"you go run down to the smith, the young one, you know, and tell him he should come and help me here."
He tossed a penny on the ground and the little maid, radiant with delight, picked it up before going for the smith.
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I was to see him again, here, on this spot. He was to act the Samaritan to me. I sat there waiting, my hand pressed to my pounding heart, until--until----
There he was coming! Yes, that was he! How strong, how handsome he had grown to be! Heavy flaxen hair about his smoke-blackened face, and a thick growth of light down around his powerful chin. Young Siegfried must have looked like that while serving his apprenticeship with the wicked Mime.
He clutched awkwardly at his little cap, tipped back on his neck so jauntily, while I held out my hand smiling and said, "How do you do?"
"Very well," he replied with an embarra.s.sed laugh, and carefully wiped his grimy fingers on his leather ap.r.o.n before taking my hand.
"Help me lift the lady into the carriage," said my brother.
He wiped his hands again, and caught hold of me--none too gently--under the armpits, and the two of them, my brother taking me by my feet, lifted me up on to the carriage cushions.
"Thanks, thanks," I said and gave him a smile.
He stood at the carriage door, shyly twisting his cap and looking from one to the other of us uncertainly.
"He still has something on his heart," I said to myself. "Why not? At the sight of me old memories have been awakened. He wants to talk to me of the blissful days when in childish innocence we watched the geese together. Ah, he doesn"t trust himself--his lord"s presence--I ought to come to his a.s.sistance a little."
"Well," I said, giving him a friendly, encouraging look straight in his eyes, "what are you thinking of?"
My brother at this turned from his horses, with which he had been busy, and said, thrusting his hand into his pocket:
"Oh, you"re waiting for your tip."
I felt as though some one had struck me in the face.
"For goodness" sake, Max," I stammered, my blood going hot and cold.
But my brother did not hear me and handed him--actually dared to--a dime.
I was already seeing my childhood friend dashing the coin back in my brother"s face. I exerted all my strength to raise myself and stretch my hands out so as to prevent violence--but what was that? No, impossible! And yet I saw it with my own eyes. He took the money--he said, "Thank you"--he bowed--he walked away!
And I? I stared after him as though he were an evil spirit, then sank back on the cushions with a weary sigh.
That, my dear friend, was the way I said good-bye to my youthful dream.