CHAPTER XVIII.
We had passed the dunes, and were marching in single file across the sandy waste land on the other side. No word was spoken; each man had enough to do in carrying his heavy pack; I perhaps the most of all, although none of the men, unless it might be Jock Swart, equalled me in strength; but in such things practice is everything. And then in addition to my pack, which probably weighed a hundred-weight, I bore another burden from which the others were free, and which pressed me far more heavily--the burden of shame that my father's son was bending under this bale of silk, of which the revenue was defrauded, because I would not cause a loss of property to the man whose bread I had been eating for two months. And then I thought with what happiness my heart beat high when I left Zehrendorf in the morning, and that I was now returning deceived by the daughter, insulted by the father, contaminated by the defilement of the base traffic to which I had lent myself, and that this was the end of my visionary splendors, of my adored liberty! But the end had not yet come.
Without a moment's rest we kept on, the wet sand crunching under our feet, when of a sudden a word was given at the head of the file and passed on in an under-tone from man to man until it came to me, who being the last could pass it no further--"Halt!"
We had reached the edge of the moor. It could be entered on this side only by a narrow strip which was passable; then came a stretch of dry land, a sort of island, surrounded by the morass on every side, which closed in again at its opposite extremity, perhaps two thousand paces distant, and there was again only a narrow path which a heavily laden man could pass without sinking into the morass. After this came the heath, which extended from the lands of Trantowitz and Zehrendorf on one side to the dunes of Zanowitz on the other, and which I had already crossed three times to-day.
The place where we halted was the same where I had stood with Granow three evenings before. I recognized it by two willows which grew on the edge of the hollow from which I had first seen the band of night-prowlers emerge. This hollow lay now a little to our left, at perhaps fifty paces distance; and I could not have distinguished the willows in the increased darkness, but for the extraordinary keenness of my sight. On account of this darkness the men had to close up in order not to deviate from the narrow path, and this was the reason that a momentary halt had been ordered.
But it was only for a moment, and again we struck into the moor upon the narrow causeway: to the right and left among the rushes gleamed a pale phosphorescent light from the stagnant water which lay around in great pools, and the ground on which we were treading oscillated in a singular manner, as we crossed it in a sort of trot.
The path had been safely passed, and the men were marching more slowly, when my ear caught a clicking sound like the cocking of a gun. The sound was behind me; that I had plainly heard; and I knew besides that none of our party was armed. I stopped to listen, and again I heard the same sound; and presently I distinguished upon the spot where we had just passed, a figure emerge between the tall rushes, followed immediately by a second and a third. Without thinking to throw the heavy pack from my shoulders, and indeed without being conscious of it, I ran to the head of the file and touched Herr von Zehren, who with Jock Swart was leading the march, upon the shoulder.
"We are pursued!"
"Nonsense!" said Herr von Zehren.
"Halt!" cried a powerful voice behind us.
"Forward!" commanded our leader.
"Halt! halt!" it was repeated, and half-a-dozen shots were fired in quick succession, the bullets whistling over our heads.
In an instant our whole party was scattered, as is the custom of contrabandists when they are hotly pressed, and, as in the present instance, they are not prepared, or not disposed to offer resistance. On all sides, except in the direction of our pursuers, I saw the men, who had at once cast off their packs, stealthily slipping away, some even creeping off on all-fours. In the next moment Herr von Zehren and I were alone.
Behind us we heard the ring of iron ramrods in the barrels. They were re-loading the muskets that had been fired. This gave a brief pause.
Herr von Zehren and I were standing together. "How many are there?" he asked in a whisper.
"I cannot make out," I answered, in a similar tone; "I think more are coming up. There can hardly be less than a dozen."
"They will not advance any further in the darkness," he said.
"They are coming now," I urged.
"Halt! Who goes there!" came again from the pursuing party, who were not more than a hundred paces off, as well as could be judged in the darkness, and again a bullet or two whistled above our heads.
"I entreat you!" I said, taking his arm to urge him forward.
He let me fairly drag him a few steps. Then suddenly he seemed to awake as from a dream, and with his old voice and old manner said to me:
"How the devil did you come by this? Off with it!" and he flung down violently the pack from my shoulders.
"I have carried it the whole way," I murmured.
"Shameful!" he muttered; "shameful! But it all comes from---- My poor boy! my poor boy!"
The effect of the spirits he had drunk, to deaden as far as possible his feelings of shame, had entirely passed away. He was again all that he could be at his best moments, and at once my old love for him returned. My heart began to throb with emotion. I was again ready to give my life for him.
"Let us make haste," I said, seizing his cold hand. "It is high time, by heaven!"
"They will not venture any further up here," he replied, "even if they have a guide. One man cannot guide them all. But there is treachery at work. Did you not say something of the sort to me?"
"Yes; and the traitors are Pinnow and Jock Swart."
"Jock was the very one that advised this route."
"Exactly."
"And the villain was the first one to make off."
"He was in haste to join his new friends."
We thus spoke in short detached sentences, while we hurried almost at a run over the open space, where the darkness, which was now intense, offered the only security--but an ample one, it is true--against pursuit. A light rain began to fall; we literally could hardly see our hands before our faces. Nothing was to be seen or heard of our pursuers.
"The blundering dolts came too late," said Herr von Zehren; "they clearly planned to catch us on the narrow path. If our rascals had not run off, we might now go on comfortably."
"We cannot go back to Zehrendorf," I said.
"Why not?"
"If Jock Swart has betrayed us, as I would take my oath he has, they will certainly search Zehrendorf."
"Let them try it once," cried the Wild Zehren; "I will send them home with broken heads. No, no; they will not venture that, or they would have tried it long ago. At Zehrendorf we are as safe as in Abraham's bosom."
Just as he said these words there was a sudden gleam of light in the distance ahead of us, like a faint flash of lightning. Before I could frame any conjecture as to its cause, it flashed out once more, this time more vividly, and not vanishing again. The light increased every moment, rising higher and higher against the black sky with a steadily widening glare.
"Trantowitz is on fire!" cried Herr von Zehren.
It was not Trantowitz; it could not be Trantowitz, that lay further to the left and much lower. At Trantowitz there were not the lofty trees whose summits I could now distinguish in the glow which burned now red and now yellow, but ever brighter and brighter.
"By heaven it is my own house!" said Herr von Zehren, He rushed forward for a few paces, and then stopping, burst into a loud laugh. It was a hideous mirth.
"This is a good joke," he said; "they are burning the old nest down. That is smoking the old fox out of his den with a vengeance."
He seemed to think that this also was the work of his pursuers. But I recalled the threats which old Pahlen had uttered when I drove her off the place. I remembered that among the rest she had said something about "the red cock crowing from the roof."
But however the fire had originated in which the old castle was now rapidly consuming, it could not have occurred at a more critical moment for the castle's master. Although we were fully a mile distant, the flames, which now towered above the gigantic trees of the park, cast their light to our very feet; and as the awful glare was caught up and reflected by the black clouds, now changing to a lurid crimson, a strange and fearful light spread over the whole region. I could clearly see Herr von Zehren's features: they were, or appeared to me of the paleness of death.
"For God's sake let us hasten to get away from here," I said to him.
"The hunt is about to begin," he said.
The hunt had begun already. The pursuing party, who had beset the narrow pass, and had probably no other orders than to cut us off there, were now, by the strangest accident, enabled to continue the pursuit, and they made the best use of the opportunity. Spreading out like skirmishers, without venturing too dangerously near to the morass on either side, they pressed rapidly on, rousing from their hiding-places the fugitives, some of whom were stealing across the open space to the narrow outlet, and others crouching to the earth or lurking in hollows, in hope that the pursuit would be given over. Here and there a flash pierced the dusky glow, and the report of a musket rang out; and everywhere I saw the figures of pursuers and pursued flitting through the uncertain light, and heard wild cries of "Halt!" "Stand!" and a loud halloo and laughter when one was caught.
The blood seemed frozen in my veins. To be hunted down, and shot down in this fashion, like hares at a battue!
"And no arms," muttered Herr von Zehren, through his clenched teeth.
"Here!" cried I, tearing the pistols from my belt and placing one in his hand.
"Loaded?"
"Yes!"
"Now then, en avant!"
At a rapid run we had nearly reached the outlet-pass, distinguishable to those who knew the localities by a dead oak and a clump of hazels, when I caught the gleam of musket-barrels above the bushes. It was as I had dreaded: the outlet was beset.
"I know another way," whispered Herr von Zehren. "Perhaps it will bear us, and if not----"
I did not let him finish--"On! on!" I cried.
We turned sharply to the right and entered the tall rushes that bordered the morass. But they had already caught sight of us; there was a cry of "Halt!" and shots were fired at us; and some came rapidly running towards us.
"It must be here," said Herr von Zehren, parting the high rushes and plunging into them. I followed closely behind him.
Slowly and cautiously, crouching almost to the earth, we crept forward. It was a desperate attempt. More than once I sank to the knees in the black morass. I had made up my mind, in case I stuck fast in it, to blow out my brains.
"We shall do it yet," said Herr von Zehren in a whisper to me over his shoulder. "We have passed the worst now. I know it well. I was here after snipe last spring, and the villain Jock was with me. So: now we are through."
He pushed through the rushes, and at the same moment three men, who had separated from the rest, and must have been lying for some minutes in ambush a few paces from the outlet, sprang upon us. The foremost man was long Jock Swart.
"Dog!" hissed Herr von Zehren through his clenched teeth. He raised his pistol, and long Jock fell to the ground a dead man.
At the same moment, I also fired, and one of the others reeled and fell with a loud cry. The third shot off his piece, and ran at full speed back to the morass. The wounded man then rose to his feet and limped off with considerable celerity, but with loud cries of pain.
Herr von Zehren, in the meantime, had stepped up to the fallen man. I sprang to his side, and seized the man, who was lying on his face, by the shoulders to raise him up. As I lifted him his head fell heavily forward. A cold shudder ran through me. "My God!" I exclaimed, "he is dead!"
"He would have it so," said Herr von Zehren.
The body of the dead man slipped from my hand. I arose, trembling in every limb; my brain began to swim. Here stood a man with a discharged pistol in his hand; there lay another like a log upon the ground, and a red glow, as if from the open gate of hell, fell upon them both; the smoke of powder filled the air, and the rushes of the morass gave a hissing sound as of a thousand serpents.
However deeply the fearful sight and the feeling of horror with which I gazed upon it, imprinted themselves upon my memory, I remained stupefied and aghast for but a single moment. Then all other feelings were lost in the one thought: He must be saved; he must never fall into their hands! I believe I could have caught up the unhappy man in my arms and borne him off, had he resisted; but he offered no resistance. I now know that he was not flying to save his life; I now know that he would not have stirred one step from the spot, had he known that I had the leather pouch with ammunition for the pistols in my pocket; but he supposed that he was weaponless, and he was resolved not to be taken alive.
CHAPTER XIX.
At the edge of the morass, where we now were, there was a hollow, in which, among the deeper marshy spots overgrown with long reed-grass, there were higher patches, like islands, covered with thick clumps of alders, hazels, and willows. For any other, who did not know every foot of this wild region, it would have been impossible to find any way here; but the old huntsman, who was now the fox upon whose track the hounds were following hard, was not for a moment at fault either in the direction to be taken, or the pathless way that was to lead us through this wilderness. I have never been able to comprehend how a man of his age, hard pressed as he had already been, and wounded besides, as I presently learned, was able to overcome such difficulties as nearly vanquished my youthful strength. Whenever, since, I have seen an old thoroughbred, broken down under the saddle or in harness, who still, when his generous blood is roused, by his fire, his strength, and endurance, puts his younger rivals to shame, my mind reverts to the Wild Zehren in this night of terror. He burst through almost impenetrable thickets as though they were standing grain, he bounded over wide chasms like a stag, and did not check his rapid course until we came out of the hollow upon the dunes.
Here we took breath, and held a brief consultation which way we should next pursue. To our right lay Zanowitz, and could we reach it safely, certainly some friend or other would help us across the sea, or at the worst I was sailor enough to handle a sail-boat alone; but it was only too probable that the village and its vicinity were already beset with soldiers sent to capture any of the fugitives who might seek refuge there. To attempt to cross the heath between Zehrendorf and Trantowitz and reach the house of some one of Herr von Zehren's friends, would have been mere madness now that the whole sky was reddened with the still increasing conflagration, and the heath illuminated with a light that almost equalled that of day. But one chance was left us; to keep to the left along the strand as far as the promontory, there ascend the chalk-cliff in the vicinity of the ruined tower, and so reach the beech-wood of the park, which was but the continuation of the forest which bordered the coast for about eight miles.
"If I can only get so far," said he; "my arm begins to grow very painful."
Now for the first time I learned that he was wounded in the arm. He had not known it himself at first, and then supposed he had only struck it against some sharp projecting bough, until the increasing pain showed what was really the matter. I asked him to let me examine the wound; but he said we had no time for anything of that sort, and I had to content myself with binding up the arm as firmly as I could with his handkerchief, which indeed did but little good.
Here among the dunes I remembered for the first time that I had ammunition in my pocket, and by his direction I reloaded the pistols. A shudder came over me when he handed me his, and I touched the cold wet steel. But it was not blood, though in the red light it looked like it: it was but the moisture from the damp atmosphere still heavy with rain.
We emerged from the dunes upon the strand, in order to proceed more rapidly over the hard sand. The light was now, when apparently all the buildings were involved in the conflagration, so strong that a dull crimson glow, reflected from the reddened clouds, was thrown far out to sea. Even the lofty and steep chalk-cliffs under which we were presently passing, looked down upon us strangely in the strange light. There seemed something unearthly and awful in it; despite the considerable distance at which we were, notwithstanding that hills and woods lay between, notwithstanding that we were passing under the shelter of cliffs more than a hundred feet high, the light still reached us and smote us, as if what had been done, had been told by the earth to the heavens, and by the heavens to the sea; and earth, sky, and sea called out to us--For you there is no escape?
CHAPTER XX.
Some feeling of this kind must have been in the breast of the unhappy man at my side, for he said once or twice, as we clambered up the ravine, up which a steep path led between thick bushes from the strand to the top of the cliffs, "Thank God, it is dark here at least!"
During the ascent he had several times complained of his arm, the pain of which had now grown intolerable, and at last he was scarcely able to move forward, although I supported him as well as I could. I hoped that when we reached the top, and he had rested a little, the strength of which he had already given such extraordinary proof, would return; but no sooner had we gained the plateau than he sank fainting into my arms. True, he instantly recovered and declared that it was but a momentary weakness, and that the attack was over; but still he could hardly stand, and I was glad when I succeeded at last in getting him to the ruin, where an excavation, half filled with rubbish, between the walls, offered at least some protection from the east wind, which blew sharp and bitter cold over the ridge.
Here I begged him to sit down, while I descended the ravine, where about half-way from the top there was a tolerably abundant spring, at which we had made a short pause in our ascent, to get him some water, as he complained of a burning thirst. Fortunately, on account of the rain, I had put on in the morning the oil-skin hat which I had on at my arrival at Zehrendorf, but had not since worn, as Constance expressed such a dislike to it. This hat now served me for a bucket, and I was glad when I succeeded with some difficulty in filling it to the brim. I hurried back as fast as I was able without spilling the precious fluid, full of anxiety for the man to whom my heart drew me all the more powerfully, as calamity smote him with such terrible blows. What would become of him if he were not able soon to continue the flight? After what had happened at the edge of the morass, no exertion would be spared to take us; and that an amply sufficient force could be employed, was but too certain. The second pass had been beset by soldiers; that I had plainly seen. How long a time would elapse ere they came up here? If we were to escape, we must be at least six or eight miles from here before morning, and I thought with a shudder how he had twice fainted in my arms, and the wild words in which he had asked for water "that was not burning: it must not be burning." Perhaps he might revive after quenching his thirst. I had so firm a faith in the inexhaustibility of his strength.
Thus I tried to encourage myself as I hastened carefully to the ruin with the water in my hat, and from dread of stumbling scarcely cast a glance in the direction of the beech-wood, over which the flames were still glowing. While still at some distance, I thought I heard Herr von Zehren's voice calling my name, then resounded a shrill laugh, and as I rushed up in terror, I saw the unhappy man standing at the entrance to the excavation, his face turned to the fire, gesticulating wildly with his uninjured arm, and now pouring out execrations, now bursting into frenzied laughter, or calling for water "that was not burning." I drew him in deeper between the walls, and made him a kind of bed of the heath that grew thickly around, over which I spread my coat. Upon recovering from a brief swoon into which he again fell, he drank deeply of the water, and then thanked me in a voice the gentle tone of which singularly contrasted with his previous shrill vociferations, and deeply moved me.
"I fancied," he said, "that you too had abandoned me, and I must perish miserably here like a wounded stag. Is it not strange that the last Zehren who is worthy of the name, here, from the ancient fortress of his ancestors, now a pile of ruins, must watch the house that later generations built, consumed by the flames? How did it take fire? What do you suppose? I have many other questions to ask you, but I feel so strangely--such strange fancies pass through my head. I never felt thus before; and my arm too is very painful. I think it is all over with the Wild Zehren--all over, all over! Let me lie here, George, and die quietly. How long will it be before the fire eats its way through the subterranean passage, and the old Zehrenburg flies into the air?"
Thus reason and madness contended in his fevered brain. Now he spoke connectedly and intelligently of what was next to be done, as soon as he had recovered his strength a little, and then he suddenly saw Jock Swart lying before him on the ground, and again it was not Jock but Alfonso, the brother of his wife, whose heart his sword had pierced. And yet--and I have often reflected upon this, while pondering over the singular character of this man--these terrible memories recurring in his delirium were accompanied with no words that indicated the slightest remorse. On the contrary, they had been rightly dealt with, and so should it be with all that ventured to resist his will. If they had burned his house, all castles and villages for leagues around should be ravaged by the flames. He would see if he could not punish his vassals as he thought fit, if they dared to rise in revolt. He would chastise them until they howled for mercy. Such utterances of his haughty spirit, exalted to madness by the fever that was raging in his veins, contrasted frightfully with the utter wretchedness of our position. While in fancy he was charging through burning towns that his wrath had given to the flames, his frame was shivering with ague, and his teeth chattered audibly. The cold, which grew ever keener towards daybreak, seemed to pierce to my marrow; and as often as the unhappy man, whose head rested upon my lap, ceased for a while his ravings, my head sank forwards or sideways to the cold wall against which I was leaning; and with ever more painful exertions I strove against the weariness which oppressed me with leaden weight. What would become of us if my strength gave way? Indeed what would become of us as it was? We could not remain thus. I was afraid that he would die in my arms if I could get no assistance. And yet how could I go for help without the risk of abandoning him to his pursuers? And how could I leave him now, when he was wanting to dash his head to pieces against the stones, and was craving to drink up the sea to assuage his consuming thirst?
During the night I had several times gone to the spring for water, and when I brought it he was always very grateful. Indeed, towards daybreak he grew much quieter, so that I indulged the hope that after all we should soon be able to get away. At last, overcome by exhaustion, I fell asleep, and must have slept some time, for the dawn was already glimmering when I was awakened by the touch of a hand on my shoulder. Herr von Zehren stood before me; I looked at him with horror. Now I saw what he had suffered in that fearful night. His healthy bronzed face was of a clayey pallor, his large brilliant eyes were dull and deeply sunk in their sockets, his beard dishevelled, his lips white, and his clothes torn and covered with dirt and blood. It was no longer the man that I had known, but more like a spectre.
A faint smile played about his pale lips, and there was a touch of the old vivacity in the tone of his voice, as he said: "I am sorry to have to awaken you, my poor boy, but it is high time."
I sprang to my feet and put on my coat, which he had carefully laid over my shoulders.
"That is, it is high time for you," he added.
"How so?" I asked, in alarm.
"I should not get far," he replied, with a sad smile; "I just now made a little trial; but it is impossible."
And he seated himself on a projecting piece of the wall, and leaned his head upon his hand.
"Then I also stay," I said.
"They will soon follow us up here."
"So much the more reason for my remaining."
He raised his head.
"You are a generous fool," he said, with a melancholy smile; "one of those that remain anvils all their life long. What advantage in the world could it be to me, that they caught you with me here? And why should you give up, and let yourself be caught? Are you brought down to nothing, and less than nothing? Are you an old wounded fox, burnt out of his den and with the hounds on his track? Go, and do not make me entreat you any more, for it hurts me to talk. Good-by!"
He reached me an ice-cold, trembling hand, which I pressed with tears in my eyes, and said:
"How can you ask it of me? I were the vilest wretch alive to leave you thus. Happen what may, I remain."
"It is my will that you leave me--I command you."
"You cannot--you must yourself feel that you cannot. You cannot command me to cover myself with disgrace."
"Well then," said he, "I will make a confession to you. It is true that it so happens that I cannot get away; but were I in condition to escape, I would not and will not do it. I will not have a hue and cry raised after me, and placards posted as if I were a vagabond or common criminal to be hunted through the land. I will await their coming here--here where my ancestors beat back so many an attack of the shopkeepers. I will defend myself to the last; they shall not take me from this place alive. I do not know what I might do, if I were altogether alone in the world. Probably this would then not have happened. I have paid dearly for the folly of trying to help my brother in his distress. And then I have a daughter; I do not love her, nor she me; but for this very reason she shall not be able to say that her father was a coward, who did not know when it was time to die."
"Do not think of your daughter!" I cried, losing all my self-control. "She has rent the single tie by which you were still bound to her." And briefly and in hurried words I told him of Constance's flight.
My intention was to tear away at all costs every pretext that he might allege for not doing what he considered unworthy a Zehren. It was most inconsiderate in me to make such a disclosure to him at such a moment; but my knowledge of human nature was then very slight, and my faculties were confused by the anguish of the last thirty-six hours, and my fear and distress for the unhappy man at my side.
And it seemed that my design had succeeded. He arose, as soon as I had finished my hurried recital, and calmly said:
"Is it then so with me? Am I a vagabond, and my daughter dishonored? My daughter a harlot, who throws herself into the arms of the very man whose hand she cannot touch without dishonoring me? Then may I well do what others would do in my place. But before we set out, get me another draught of water, George. It will refresh me; and I must not fail soon again. Make haste!"
I caught up the hat, joyful that I had at last persuaded him. When I had gone a few paces he called me back again.
"Do not mind my giving you so much trouble, George. Take my thanks for all."
"How can you speak so?" I said. "Step back out of the cold wind; I shall be back in five minutes."
I started off at a run. There was no time to be lost; streak after streak of pale light was appearing in the east; in half an hour the sun would rise. I had hoped that by this time we would have been leagues away in the depth of the forest.
The spring in the ravine was soon reached, but it gave me some trouble to fill the hat. In the night I had trampled the earth around it, and stones had rolled in, which nearly blocked it up. While I was stooping over it and clearing away the obstructions, a dull report of fire-arms reached my ear. I started and felt involuntarily for the pistol which was still in my belt. The other I had left with him. Was it possible? Could it be? He had sent me away!
I could not wait for the water; I was irresistibly impelled to hasten back. Like a hunted stag I sprang up the side of the ravine, and bounded over the plateau to the ruin.
All was over.
Upon the very spot where I had parted from him, where I had last pressed his hand, he had shot himself. The smoke of the powder was still floating in the excavation. The pistol lay beside him; his head had fallen sideways against the wall. He breathed no more--he was quite dead. The Wild Zehren knew where a bullet must strike if the wound was to be mortal.
CHAPTER XXI.
I was still sitting, stupefied and incapable of reflection, by the dead man, when the first rays of the sun, which rose with tremulous lustre over the sea, fell upon his pallid face. A shudder ran through me. I arose and stood trembling in every limb. Then I ran, as fast as my tottering feet would bear me, along the path that descended from the ruin to the beech-wood. I could not now say what my real intention was. Did I simply wish to flee from this place of terror, from the presence of the corpse whose glazed eyes were fixed upon the rising sun? Did I wish to get assistance? Did I design to carry out alone the plan of escape I had formed for both, and thus save myself? I do not now know.
I reached the park and the tarn, the water of which looked blackly through the yellow leaves that yesterday's storm had swept from the trees. In this water had drowned herself the wife of the man who had borne her from her far-off home over her brother's corpse, and who was now lying dead in the ruins of the castle of his forefathers. Their daughter had thrown herself into the arms of a profligate, after deceiving her father, and playing a shameful game with me. This all came at once into my mind like a hideous picture seen in the black mirror of the tarn. As if some pitiless god had rent away the veil from the pandemonium which to my blinded eyes had seemed a paradise, I saw at a glance the two last months of my life, and what they really were. I felt a nameless horror, less, I think, of myself, than of a world where such things had been, where such things could be. If it be true that nearly every man at some time in his life is led or driven by malignant demons to the verge of madness, this moment had come for me. I felt an almost irresistible impulse to throw myself into the black water which legend represented to be of unfathomable depth. I do not know what I might have done, had I not at this moment heard the voices of men who were coming down the path that led from the park. The instinct of self-preservation, which is not easily extinguished in a youth of nineteen, suddenly awaked within me. I would not fall into the hands of those whom I had been since the previous evening making such prodigious exertions to escape. In a bound I sprang up the bank that surrounded the tarn, leapt down on the other side, and then lay still, buried in the thick bushes and fallen leaves, to let them pass before recommencing my flight. In a minute more they were at the spot I had left. They stopped here, where the path branched off towards the ruin, and deliberated. "This must be the way," said one. "Of course; there is no other, you fool," said another. "Forward!" cried a third voice, apparently belonging to the leader of the party, "or the lieutenant will get there from the beach sooner than we. Forward!"
The patrol ascended the path towards the ruin, and I cautiously raised my head and saw them disappearing among the trees. When I thought them at a sufficient distance, I arose, and struck deeper into the wood. The impulse to self-destruction had passed; I had but one desire, to save myself; and the almost miraculous manner in which I had just avoided a peril from which there seemed no escape, filled me with new hope, as a losing player feels at the first lucky cast.
When we boys played "robbers and soldiers" in the fir-wood around my native town, I had always managed to be of the robber party, and they invariably chose me their captain. The duties of this office I had always so discharged that at last none were willing to take the part of soldiers. The boast that I had so often made in our merry sports, that no one could catch me unless I allowed myself to be caught, was now to be tested in deadly earnest. Unfortunately just now, when life and liberty were at stake, the most important thing of all was wanting, the fresh and inexhaustible strength that carried me through my boyish exploits, and which now by reason of the terrible mental emotions of the last twenty-four hours, and the excessive physical exertion I had undergone, was well-nigh broken down. To my other sufferings, I was tormented with gnawing hunger and burning thirst. Keeping always in the thickest of the forest, I came upon no spring nor pool of water. The loose soil had long since absorbed the rain of the previous day, and the slight moisture that I was able to suck from the dead leaves only increased my sufferings.
My intention had been to traverse the forest, which bordered the coast for about eight miles, in its whole length, in order to place as much distance as possible between me and my pursuers, before I made the attempt to leave the island at any point to which chance might conduct me. I had trusted that I should be able to accomplish this distance at the latest by noon; but I was compelled to admit to myself that in the condition in which I was, and which grew worse every minute, this was no longer to be thought of. I had also formed no just conception of the obstacles that impeded me. I had often before been in this forest, but only for short distances, and I had never been compelled to keep to a certain direction, and at the same time anxiously guard against every possibility of being seen. But now, unless I made long detours, I had to break through dense thickets scarcely penetrable even by the deer, or again take a circuit which took me far out of the way, to avoid some open space where there was no sufficient concealment. Then I had to bury myself in leaves and bushes while I listened to discover whether some sound that I heard really proceeded from human voices, and to wait thus until all was again silent. More than once I came upon forest-paths, where double caution was necessary; and with all I felt my strength constantly diminishing, and looked forward with terror to the moment when it should fail me altogether, and I should sink, probably to rise no more. And to lie here dead, with wide-open, glazed eyes, like what I had seen--by this time they had probably found him and carried him down, and then in some fashion or other they must bury him--but how long would I lie here in the depth of the forest before I was found, unless it were by the foxes?
But why did I fly, after all? What had I then done to deserve such extremity of punishment? What could they do to me worse than the torments I was now suffering? And what was this? Here was a path that in half an hour would bring me out of the forest. Possibly I might then at once come upon the soldiers. So much the better; then there would be an end of it.
And I really went some distance along the path, but suddenly I stopped again. My father! what would he say when he saw me led by soldiers through the town, and the street-boys shouting after me? No, no; I could never bring that upon him; better that the foxes should devour me than that!
I turned again into the forest, but ever more agonizing grew the strain upon my fast-failing powers. My knees tottered; the cold sweat ran from my face; more than once I had to stop and lean against a tree, because all became dark before my eyes, and I feared that I should faint. Thus I dragged myself for perhaps half an hour more--it was by my calculation about two in the afternoon--when my long agony found an end. In the edge of a small clearing which I had just reached, stood a little hut, lightly constructed of branches and mats of straw, looking almost like a dog-kennel, and which probably had been built by wood-cutters or poachers. I crawled in, buried myself in the straw and leaves with which the floor of the hut was deeply heaped, and which happily were tolerably dry, and fell at once into a sleep which was almost as heavy as death.
When I awaked it was quite dark, and it was some time ere I could recollect where I was and what had happened; but at last I recovered full consciousness of my desperate situation. I crept out of the hut with great difficulty, for my limbs felt as if they were broken, and the first steps I took gave me excruciating pain. This, however, presently passed off. My sleep had somewhat refreshed me; but my hunger, the cravings of which had aroused me, was now so torturing that I resolved to appease it at every hazard, especially as I felt that unless this was done, I must of necessity soon give way again. But how was this to be done? At last I hit upon a plan to which nothing but my desperation could have prompted me. I determined to keep to the left through the woods, until I reached the open country, which I calculated must happen in about an hour. I would then strike for the nearest farm-house, and there either by fair means or foul get something to appease my hunger, and perhaps also a supply for the next day.
Accident seemed to favor the execution of this plan. In a few minutes I came upon a sort of road, which I followed, although it did not run in the direction that I desired. But how great was my astonishment and my alarm, as, in far less time than I had hoped, I emerged from the woods, and by the starlight distinguished a region of country which I could not by any possibility mistake. There on the right were the cottages belonging to Herr von Granow's estate, Melchow; further on, embosomed in stately trees, was the proprietor's house, and from a slight eminence rose the white steeple of the new village church. Further to the left, lower down in the valley, lay Trantowitz, and still further, but on higher ground, had Zehrendorf stood. Indeed, as if to leave me not an instant of doubt that I had got back to the old well-known district of country, there suddenly sprang from the immense pile of ruins where the castle had stood, a flame so high and so vivid that the steeple of Melchow church glowed with rosy light. But there must either have been little fuel left for the fire, or else in the day there had been ample provision made for its extinction, for the flames sank again immediately, the bright light vanished, and there only remained a feeble glow, as from the embers of a burnt brush-heap in a field.
So at the sacrifice of all my strength, I had wandered about the whole day in a circle, and now at night-fall found myself not far from the spot from which I had started in the morning. This was not very consolatory, but it was ridiculous; and I laughed--not very loud nor cheerfully, it is true, but still genuine laughter. And at the same moment the fancy seized me that perhaps my good genius had led me here against my wishes. Where would I be less likely to be looked for than exactly here? Where had I better friends than here at Trantowitz, for example, where everybody at the house and in the village knew me; where I could knock at any door and be sure to find help and relief. Besides, the circumstance that during the entire day I had met no human creature, to a certain extent assured me that the pursuit towards the last had not been so hot, and finally I was at the point of starvation, and had no choice left me, so I pushed on, almost carelessly, over the fields to Trantowitz, for the first time since we had separated, thinking seriously of the good Hans, and wondering what had become of him. Had he overtaken the fugitives? Had there been a scene, as in that night when the Wild Zehren was pursued and overtaken by the brother of his mistress, and their blades crossed in the uncertain light of the Spanish stars? Had blood flowed for the daughter, as well as for the mother? Had Hans fallen a victim in his bad cause, or had he been victorious? If so, what then? Were the officers of justice after him as they were after me? Had they caught him, perhaps red-handed? Was he now sitting behind bolts and bars?
I grew very sad at heart as this idea struck me. Hans behind bolts and bars was a melancholy picture--one could as well fancy a polar bear fireman on a steamer.
Without observing where I was going, I had approached the house nearer than was necessary to reach the village. From the field a path led across a dry ditch into a wilderness of about two acres extent, of potatoe, cabbage, and salad-beds, blackberry thickets, and stunted fruit-trees, which Hans, by a singular delusion, called his garden, and prized highly because he here in winter shot the most hares from his chamber-window. Towards this chamber, famous in all the country round, my eyes involuntarily turned, and to my great astonishment I perceived a faint glimmer of light in it. The window was open, and the light, as I discovered upon a nearer approach, came from the sitting-room, the door between the two not being closed. I listened, and heard the clatter of a knife and fork. Could Hans be at home again already? I could not resist the temptation, clambered through the window into the chamber, looked through the door, and there sat Hans, just as I had seen him the previous morning, behind a couple of bottles and an immense ham, from which he raised his blue eyes at my entrance and stared at me with a look of astonishment rather than alarm.
"Good evening, Herr von Trantow," I said.
I was about to say more, and explain how I had come, but involuntarily I clutched a just-opened bottle with shaking hand, and drained it before I set it down. Hans gave a nod of approval at my prompt recourse to his universal specific. Then he arose without a word, went out and closed the shutters of both windows, came in and bolted the door, took a seat opposite to me, lighted a cigar, and waited in silence until my ravenous hunger was appeased sufficiently to allow me to converse.
"Suppose in the meantime you tell me what happened to you," I said, without raising my eyes from my plate.
Hans had but little to tell, and told that little in the fewest possible words. He had galloped a couple of miles or so along the road to Fährdorf--the only one which the fugitives could possibly have taken--when he observed that his horse, who had so far exhibited no signs of fatigue, began to fail. After riding another mile at a more moderate pace, he was convinced of the impossibility of continuing the pursuit. "The road was very bad," Hans said; "I am a heavy rider, and the poor brute had probably had neither feed nor water for twenty-four hours." So he dismounted and led the horse at a walk the nearest way to Trantowitz, where he arrived safely at nightfall. "By the time I had saddled my Wodan and ridden to Fährdorf," he said, "they were far away. And then--it is always the way with me that I can never manage to do what other men would do in my place; and----" Here he drained his glass, refilled it, leaned back in his chair, and enveloped himself in a cloud of smoke.
The good Hans! he had meant all for the best--even his plan of smashing the skull of our happy rival. How could he help it if on this occasion, as so often before--always in his life indeed--he rode a slow horse? He could not founder the animal in a cause which really did not concern it in the least.
About eight o'clock, while he was sitting in his room, he saw the light of the fire, and saddled Wodan and hurried to it, followed by all his wagons. Men came over with wagons and fire-engines from the other estates; but it was not possible to save anything; old Pahlen, who no doubt had no difficulty in eluding the vigilance of the stupid stable-boy, had done the work too well--the flames burst from all parts of the building at once. "I rode home," he went on, "and went to bed, and waked up this morning. I don't know why, I had much rather never have awaked again."
Poor Hans!
This morning, for the first time, he had learned from his men what had happened; how the night before, the officers of the customs, with the assistance of half a company of soldiers, had hunted down the smugglers; and that they had caught four or five, who would all be hung. And a soldier had sunk in the morass, one of the custom-house men had been wounded, and Jock Swart shot dead. Herr von Zehren had been found dead this morning at the ruin. That it was a lucky thing for him not to have lived to learn that his daughter had run away, and that the old Pahlen, whom the stable-boy Fritz and Christian Halterman had caught in the act, had set fire to his castle and burned it to the ground. And they would have hanged him, just as they meant to hang George Hartwig, the son of customs-accountant Hartwig at Uselin, who had been the captain of the smugglers, as soon as they caught him.
Hans filled my glass again, and invited me by an expressive look to empty it at once, as if so I could best afford him the consolatory assurance that they had not hanged me so far.
Now it was my turn to relate. Hans listened, silently smoking; but when I described the death of the Wild Zehren, and how I had last seen him--dead, with his pale face turned to the rising sun, the first beams of which fell in his glazed eyes--he sighed deeply, rocked his great head from side to side, and drank deep draughts of wine.
"And now, what do you advise me to do?" I said, at last.
"What is your own idea?" asked Hans.
That my position was a most serious one, even Hans perceived. I had forced Pinnow, pistol in hand, to take me with him; I had taken the most direct and most active part in the expedition; I had fired upon the officers; I had accompanied Herr von Zehren in his desperate flight. In the eyes of the law these were far from being meritorious performances; and the less I came into contact with the law henceforth, the better it would be for me.
"And yet," I said, "would that this were my greatest trouble; but my father would never outlive the shame of having a son in the penitentiary; and therefore I am resolved to fly, though it were to the uttermost parts of the earth."
Hans nodded approbation.
"What if I went to America?"
So brilliant an idea as this, which at a blow removed all the perplexities of the situation, secured the instantaneous adhesion of Hans.