CHAPTER XVIII.
AT LUKSTEIN.
In accordance, then, with the suggestion of Ilga, I despatched Udal toVenice, bearing a letter wherein I requested Jack to bide there untilsuch time as I arrived. To supply my servant's place Father Spauroffered me one, Michael Groder, whose assistance at the first sight Iwas strongly in a mind to decline; for he was more than common uncoutheven for those parts, and with his scarred knees, tangled black hair,and gaunt, weather-roughened face, seemed more fitted for hewing woodupon the hillside than for the neater functions of a valet. Thepriest, however, pressed his services upon me with so importunate acourtesy that I thought it ungracious to persist in a refusal. Indeed,Michael Groder, though of a slight and wiry build, was the unhandiestman with his fingers that ever I had met with. There was not a servantin the Castle who could not have done the work better; and I camespeedily to the conclusion that Father Spaur had selected himparticularly out of some motive very different from a desire to obligeme; I mean, in order that he might keep a watch upon my actions, andsee that I gained no secret advantage with the Countess.
However, had I entertained any such design, the hunting expeditionwould have effectually prevented its fulfilment. It lasted the greaterpart of the week, and we did not return to Lukstein until the eve ofmy departure. By this time my anxiety as to the answer which Ilgawould make to my suit when she knew all that I had to tell her, hadwell-nigh worked me into a fever. I was for ever rehearsing andpicturing the scene, inventing all sorts of womanly objections for herto urge, and disproving them succinctly to her satisfaction byBarbara, Celarent and all the rules of logic.
Under these speculations, bolster them up as I might, there lurkednone the less a heavy and disheartening fear. 'Twas all vain labour toreckon up, as I did again and again, the few good qualities which Ipossessed, and to add to them those others which my friends attributedto me. I could not shut my eyes to the disparity between us; I couldnot believe but that she must be sensible of it herself. Such a woman,I conceived, should wed a warrior and hero; though, indeed, 'twasdoubtful whether you could find even amongst them one whose desertsmade him a fit mate for her. As for me, 'twas as though a clown shouldrun a-wooing after a princess.
'Twill be readily understood that I had in consequence no greatinclination for the hearty fellowship of the neighbours who joined inthe hunt; and since my anxiety grew with every hour, by the time wecame back to Lukstein--for many of them returned thither instead of totheir own homes, meaning to stay over until the following night--'twasas much as I could do to answer with attention any civil question thatwas addressed to me.
The Countess, I found, was in an agitation no whit inferior to my own.I observed her that afternoon at dinner. At times she talked with afeverish excitement, at times she relapsed into long silences; buteven during these pauses I noticed that her fingers were never still,but continually twitched and plucked at the cloth. I inferred from hermanner that she had not yet decided on the course she would take, themore particularly because she sedulously avoided speech with me. If Ispoke to her she replied politely enough, but at once drew those abouther into the conversation, and herself withdrew from it; and if byaccident our eyes met, she hastily turned her head away. I knew notwhat to make of these signs, and as soon as the company was risen fromtable I slipped away out of the Castle that I might con them overquietly and weigh whether they boded me good or ill.
The Castle, as I have said, stood upon a headland at the mouth of theSenner Thal, and turning a corner of this bluff, I wandered by a roughtrack some way along the side of the ravine, and flung myself down onmy back on the turf. The sun had already sunk below the crest of themountains, and the glow was fast fading out of the sky. The pines onthe hillside opposite grew black in the deepening twilight; a starpeeped over the shoulder of the Wildthurm; and here and there a greyscarf of cloud lay trailed along the slopes. From a hut high abovecame clear and sweet the voice of a woman singing a Tyrolese melody,and so softly did the evening droop upon the mountains, shutting as itwere the very peace of the heavens into the valleys, that the brooksseemed to laugh louder and louder as they raced among the stones. Theair itself never stirred, save when some bat came flapping blindlyabout my face. I became the more curious, therefore, concerning a bushsome twenty yards below me, which now and again shivered and bent asthough with a gust of wind. I had been lying on the grass some tenminutes before I noticed this movement. The dwarf oaks and beecheswhich studded the slopes about me were as still and noiseless asthough their leaves had been carved from metal; only this one bushrustled and shook. In a direct line with it, and within reach of myfoot, a small boulder hung insecurely on the turf. I stretched out myfoot and pushed it; the stone rocked a little on its base. I pushedagain and harder; the stone tilted forwards and stuck. I brought myother foot to help, set them both flat against the stone, slid down onmy back until my legs were doubled, and then kicked with all mystrength. The boulder flew from the soles of my feet, rolled over andover, bounded into the air, dropped on to the slope about ten yardsfrom the bush, and then sprang at it like a dog at the throat. I hearda startled cry; I saw the figure of a man leap up from the centre ofthe bush. The stone took him full in the pit of the stomach, andtoppled him backwards like a ninepin. He fell on the far side of theshrub, and I heard the boulder go crash-crashing down the whole lengthof the incline. Who the man was I had not the time to perceive, and Imade no effort to discover. The Countess had retired a few momentsbefore I slipped away from the Hall, and I judged that he was no morethan a spy sent by Father Spaur to ascertain whether I had some trystwith her. So deeming that he had got no more than his deserts, I lefthim lying where he fell and loitered back to the Castle.
The company I found gathered about a huge fire of logs at the end ofthe Great Hall. Beyond the glow of the flames the Hall was lost inshadow, and now and again from some corner would come a soft scufflingsound, as a dog moved lazily across the flags. Thereupon with onemovement the heads would huddle closer together, and for a moment thevoices would sink to a whisper. They were speaking, as men will whoare girt with more of God's handiwork than of man's, concerning thespirits that haunted the countryside, and told many stories of thewarnings they had vouchsafed to unheeding ears. In particular, theydwelt much upon a bell, which they declared rang out from theWildthurm when good or ill-fortune approached the House of Lukstein,tolling as the presage of disaster, pealing joyously in the forefrontof prosperity. One, indeed--with frequent glances across his shoulderinto the gloom--averred that he had heard it tolling on the eve ofCount Lukstein's marriage, and from that beginning the talk slid tothe manner of his death. 'Twas altogether an eerie experience, and onethat I would not willingly repeat, to listen to them debating thatquestion in hushed whispers, with the darkness closing in around us,and the firelight playing upon mature, weather-hardened faces growntimorous with the awe of children. For this I remarked with somewonder, that no one made mention either of the things which I had leftbehind me, or of the track which I had flogged in the snow about therim of the precipice. 'Twas evident that these details of the storyhad been kept carefully secret, though with what object I could notunderstand.
That evening I had no Michael Groder to assist me in my toilet, and sogot me to bed with the saving of half an hour. I cannot say, however,that I gained half an hour's sleep thereby, for the thought of themorrow, and all that hung upon it, kept me tossing from side to sidein a turmoil of unrest. It must have been near upon two hours that Ilay thus uneasily cushioned upon disquiet, before a faint sound cameto my ears, and made me start up in the darkness with my heart racing.
'Twas the sound that a man can never forget or mistake when once hehas heard it--the sound of a woman sobbing. It rose from the littlesitting-room immediately beneath me. The staircase door was close tomy bedside, and I reached out my hand and, turning the handlecautiously, opened it. The sound was louder now, but still muffled,and I knew that the door at the bottom of the
staircase was closed.For a little I remained propped on my elbow, and straining my ears tolisten. The mourner must be either Clemence Durette or Ilga, and Icould not doubt which of them it was. Why she wept, I did notconsider. 'Twas the noise of her weeping, made yet more lonesome andsad by the black dead of night, that occupied my senses and filled mewith an unbearable pain.
I got quietly out of my bed, and slipping on some clothes crept downthe staircase in my stockings. 'Twas pitch dark in this passage, and Ifelt before me with my hands as I descended, fearing lest I mightunawares stumble against the door. At the last step I paused andlistened again. Then very gently I groped for the handle. I had goodreason to know how noiselessly it turned, and I opened the door forthe space of an inch. A feeble light flickered on the wall of the roomat my side. I waited with my fingers on the handle, but there was nocheck in the sobbing. I pushed the door wider open; the light upon thewall wavered and shook, as though a draught took the flame of acandle. But that was all. So I stepped silently forward and lookedinto the room.
The sight made my heart bleed. Ilga lay face downwards and prone uponthe floor, her arms outstretched, her hair unbound and rippling abouther shoulders. From head to foot she was robed in black. It broke uponme suddenly that I had never seen her so clad before, and I remembereda remark that Elmscott had passed in London upon that very score.
The window was open, and from the garden a light wind brought thesoughing of trees into the room. A single candle guttered on themantelshelf and heightened its general aspect of neglect. Thus Ilgalay, abandoned to--what? Grief for her husband, or remorse atforgetting him? That black dress might well be the fitting symbol ofeither sentiment. 'Twas for neither of these reasons that she wept, asI learned long afterwards, but for another of which I had no suspicionthen.
I closed the door softly and sat me down in the darkness on thestairs, hearkening to that desolate sound of tears and praying for themorning to come and for the day to pass into night, that I might saymy say and either bring her such rest and happiness as a man's lovecan bring to a woman, or slip out of her life and so trouble her nomore.
'Twas a long while before she ceased from her distress, and to me itseemed far longer than it was. As soon as I heard her move I got meback to my room. The dawn was just breaking when, from a corner of mywindow, I saw her walk out across the lawn, and the dew was white uponthe grass like a hoar-frost. With a weary, dragging step, and a headadroop like a broken flower, she walked to the parapet of the terrace,and hung on it for a little, gazing down upon the roofs of hersleeping village. Then she turned and fixed her eyes upon my window. Iwas hidden in the curtains so that she could not see me. For someminutes she gazed at it, her face very tired and sad. 'Twas her bridalchamber, or rather, would have been but for me, and I wondered muchwhether she was thinking of the husband or the guest. She turned awayagain, looked out across the valley paved with a grey floor of mist,and so walked back to the main wing of the Castle.
The light broadened out; starlings began to twitter in the trees, andfar away a white peak blushed rosy at the kiss of the sun. The one dayof my life had come. By this time to-morrow, I thought, the worldwould have changed its colours for me, one way or another; and tiredout with my vigil, I tumbled into bed and slept dreamlessly untilMichael Groder roused me.
I asked him why he had failed me the night before.
"I was unwell," he replied.
"True!" said I, with great friendliness. "You got a heavier load uponyour stomach than it would stand."
The which was as unwise a remark as I could have made; for Groder'sill-will towards me needed no stimulus to provoke it.