"How is all this to end?" said I to myself; "the poor girl will fret herself to death if she cannot have her Gustav, and get rid of her cousin. Gustav is a fine fellow, and a very good match; even the father allows that. The cousin must be an idiot to let himself be betrothed by his father"s orders to a girl he knows nothing about--and a tiresome one too, according to what is reported of him. Jette is a girl with a great deal of feeling--but he must be a clod with none; he can"t care in the least for her, or he would have been here long ere this. He shall not have her. What, if I were to advise them to run away an hour or two before I take myself off? or, suppose we were all three to elope together? Nonsense! How can I think of such folly? Poor girl! it would melt a heart of stone to see her crying there. What if I were to stay and play the cousin a little longer--formally renounce her hand--give her up to Gustav? I should like to act such a magnanimous part ... and when it was all well over, and the real cousin arrived, to let him find that he had come on a fool"s errand, and go back to nurse his cold ...
or, it might be better to drop him a line by the post to save a scene?
I"ll do it. By Jove! I"ll do it! The G.o.d of love himself must have sent me here; no man in the wide world could do the thing better than myself. But what right have I to decide thus the fate of another man--a man whom I have never even beheld? Right! It is time to talk about _right_, forsooth, after I have been doing nothing but wrong for thirty-six hours. No, no, let conscience stand to one side, for the present at least; it has no business in this affair. I have acted most unwarrantably, I know, but I will make up for my misdeeds by one good deed--one blessing will I take with me; and when I am gone, two happy persons at least will remember me kindly, and Hanne will be less harsh in her judgment of my conduct, since it will have brought about her sister"s happiness. Let me set my shoulders to the wheel--there is no time to lose. No, they shall not all execrate me."
Jette was still sitting on the bench where I had left her. I placed myself beside her, and tried to rea.s.sure her.
"I said I owed you some explanation; allow me in a few words to tell you all you wish to communicate. You do not care for me--you love Gustav Holm--you will be wretched if you cannot find some good pretext for breaking off the match with me--you have many reasons to love him, none to love me--you want to let me know how the matter stands, and to give me a basket,[4] but to do it in so amicable a manner, that you hope I will accept it quietly like a good Christian, and not make too much fuss about it. All this is what you would have told me sooner or later. Am I not right, Jette? or is there more you would have entrusted to me?"
She hid her face with her hands.
"My window was partly open the other night," I added. "I overheard your conversation with Gustav Holm, and I knew immediately, of course, what I had to expect. You will believe, I hope, that I have sufficient feeling not to wish to force myself upon one who cannot care for me.
Forgive me that I have caused you any uneasiness; it was against my own will. I would much rather have convinced you sooner that you have no enemy in me, but, on the contrary, a sincere friend."
"Dearest, best Carl! n.o.blest of men! You restore me to freedom--you restore me to life! The Almighty has heard my prayers! You do not know how earnestly I have prayed that you might find me detestable."
"Therein your prayers have not been heard, Jette," said I. "If you could have loved me, I could not have wished a better fate. I love you and Hanne much more than you think." I felt that every word I had just spoken was positive truth. Jette wrung my hand.
"You have removed a mountain from my heart," she replied. "Would that I could thank you as you deserve!"
I was quite ashamed of all the thanks she poured out, and all the grat.i.tude she expressed. It is an unspeakable pleasure to promote the happiness of one"s fellow-creatures; it is an agreeable feeling which I would not exchange for any other.
When the first burst of joy was over, Jette consulted with me how it would be best to break the matter to her father. I told her of his good opinion of Gustav, and built upon it the brightest hopes.
Jette shook her head. "He will insist that I shall keep my promise,"
said she, mournfully. "He will not relinquish a plan which he has cherished for so many years. How dreadful it is for me to disappoint him!"
"Very well, take me."
"Oh! do not jest with me, dear Carl. My only dependence is on you."
"I shall take my departure immediately, and leave a letter renouncing my engagement to you. That will go far to help you."
"For Heaven"s sake, stay! You are the only one who can speak to him,"
said she. "You have already acquired much influence over him."
"Then let us proceed at once to the _eclairciss.e.m.e.nt_. I shall tell him that I have discovered that your heart belongs to Gustav Holm, not to me; and that I cannot accept any woman"s hand unless her heart accompanies it."
"Oh! what a terrible moment it will be when that is said! I tremble at the very idea of it. You do not know what he can be when his anger is thoroughly roused."
"Then would you prefer to elope with Gustav? Like a loyal cousin, I will a.s.sist you in your escape."
"That would enrage him still more; he has always been so kind and gentle to me."
"I wish we had Gustav here, that something might be determined on.
These antic.i.p.ated terrible moments are never so dreadful in reality as in expectation; you have had a proof of this in the one you have just gone through."
"Gustav will be here soon; he knows that I had requested this private conversation with you ... he will meet me here in the wood ... he will come when--when...." She stopped, and blushed deeply.
"He will come when I am gone," I said, laughing. "That was very sensibly arranged, but the arrangement must be annulled nevertheless, and he must make the effort of showing himself while I am here. I dare say he is not many miles off--perhaps within hail. Mr. Holm! Mr. Holm!"
I roared at the top of my voice. "He knows my manner of inviting him, and you will see that he will speedily present himself. Good morning, Mr. Holm!" I added.
"For G.o.d"s sake do not shout so loudly, you will be overheard," said Jette. "Oh! how will all this end?"
"Uncommonly well," thought I. "Here comes the lover."
Gustav came, almost rushing up; his countenance and manner expressed what was pa.s.sing in his mind, namely, uncertainty whether he was to look on me as a friend or a foe.
"Gustav--Carl!..." exclaimed Jette, sinking back on the bench. She found it impossible to command her voice; but her eyes, which dwelt with affection on us both, filled up the pause, and expressed what words would not.
I took his hand and led him up to Jette. He knelt at her feet, she threw her arms round his neck, while I bent over them, and beheld my work with sincere satisfaction. There was a rustling in the bushes, and Hanne and her father stood suddenly before us! The lovers did not observe them, although I did my utmost by signs to rouse their attention.
"What the devil is all this?" exclaimed the Just.i.tsraad, in a voice of thunder. "What does this mean? Carl, what are you doing?"
"I am bestowing my cousinly benediction and full absolution and remission of sins, as you ought to do, my worthy uncle," I replied, as cheerfully as I possibly could. It was necessary to appear to keep up one"s courage. Gustav rose hastily, and Jette threw herself into her sister"s arms.
"My dear sir!" said Gustav, imploringly.
"Mr. Holm!" cried the Just.i.tsraad, drawing himself up.
"Dear uncle!" I exclaimed, interrupting them both, "allow me to speak.
Gustav adores Jette, and she returns his love. There can be no more question about me; I am her cousin, and nothing either more or less. I am not such an idiot as to wish to force a woman to be my wife whose heart is given to another. I have dissolved the engagement between Jette and myself, deliberately, and after due reflection. I _could_ not make her happy, and I _will not_ make her unhappy. There stands the bridegroom, who only awaits your blessing. Give it, dear uncle, and let this day become the happiest of my life, for it is the first time I ever had an opportunity of doing good."
"Heavens and earth! a pretty piece of work, indeed!" The Just.i.tsraad was as bl.u.s.tering as a German, and would on no account allow himself to hear reason. A great deal of his anger was naturally directed against me. I tried to smooth matters down. Jette wept and sobbed. It was a hundred to one against us. "I shall write to your father this very day," he said, at length; "he only can absolve me from my vow; but that he will not do--that he certainly will not do on any account. This marriage has been his greatest wish, for I do not know how many years, as well as mine."
"But he will be obliged to do it," said I; "this very afternoon I shall take my departure, and you shall never hear of me more. My father"s power over me by no means extends so far as you seem to fancy. I will not make Jette miserable, merely to indulge his whims. Dear uncle, let me persuade you to believe that your contract is null and void: give your blessing to Gustav and Jette, and leave me to settle the matter with my father. Feelings cannot be forced. Jette does not care for me, and you ought not, in this affair, to be less liberal than I am."
"Liberal--liberal indeed! He is always prating about such folly,"
exclaimed the Just.i.tsraad, in a rage. "It is that abominable Berlin liberality that has entirely ruined him."
Berlin liberality! It was the first time I had ever heard _that_ bewailed. But what absurd things do people not stumble upon when they are angry, and speak without reflection.
"Well, it was Berlin that ruined me, according to my uncle, and so utterly ruined me ... that I am betrothed in Berlin, and cannot be betrothed again. It is against the law both here and in Prussia to have two wives."
This was an inspiration prompted by the exigency of the occasion; what did one untruth more or less signify? I was a Jesuit at that moment, and excused myself with Loyola"s doctrine--that the motive sanctifies the means.
"Betrothed!" exclaimed the Just.i.tsraad--"betrothed in Berlin! Make a fool of me! Hark ye, Carl ..."
"Betrothed!" interrupted Hanne. "Upon my word, you are a fine fellow, cousin. That is the reason he does not wear Jette"s betrothal-ring. And I to be standing here admiring his magnanimity!"
Jette silently held out her hand to me from one side, Gustav from the other; these were well-meant congratulations.
"Yes, betrothed," I continued. "Abuse me at your will, hate me, curse me, say and do what you please, but betrothed I am, and betrothed I must remain."
This was a settler. The wrath of the Just.i.tsraad cooled by degrees; that really kind-hearted man could not withstand so many anxious looks and earnest prayers; and fear of all the gossip and ridicule to which his holding out longer under the circ.u.mstances might give rise, also had effect upon him.
"You are a sad scapegrace, Carl," he said, "and Jette may be thankful she is not to have you for her husband; but she shall not be left in the lurch on account of your foolish freaks." He took her hand and placed it in Gustav"s, saying, "You must make up to me for the failure of those hopes which I have cherished through so many years. But," he added, with a sigh, "what will my brother say when he hears this history?"
Jette cast herself upon his neck; she almost fainted in his arms; the rest of us surrounded him. There was no end to embraces and thanks.