Charles Auchester Volume I Part 34

"_I_ shall retreat, then, sir,--and indeed this is not my place."

She courtesied lowly as to a monarch, but without a shadow of timidity, or so much as the flutter of one rose-leaf, and pa.s.sed out among the flowers, he looking after her strangely, wistfully.

"Is not that a Cecilia, Carlomein?"

"If you think so, sir."

"You do not think it? You ought to know as well as I. As she is gone, let us go."

And lightly as she fled, he turned back to follow her. But we had lost her when we came into the garden. As he pa.s.sed along, however, also among the flowers, he touched first one and then another of the delicate plants abstractedly, until at length he pulled off one blossom of an eastern jasmine,--a beautiful specimen, white as his own forehead, and of perfume sweetest next his breath.

"Oh!" said he gayly, "I have bereaved the soft sisterhood; but," he added earnestly, as he held the pale blossom between his fairest fingers, "I wonder whether they are unhappy so far from home. I wonder whether they _know_ they are away!"

"I should think not, sir, or they would not blossom so beautifully."

"That is nothing, and no reason, O Carlomein! for I have seen such a beautiful soul that was away from home, and it was very homesick; yet it was so fair, so very fair, that it would put out the eye of this little flower."

I could not help saying, or quickly murmuring rather, "It must be your soul then, sir."

"Is it mine to thee? It is to me another; but that does not spoil thy pretty compliment."

I never heard tones so sweet, so infantine. But we had reached the door of the gla.s.s chamber, and I then observed that he was gazing anxiously--certainly with inquiry--at the sky. At that moment it first struck me that since our entrance beneath the shadowy greenness the sun had gone in. Simultaneously a shade, as from a springing cloud, had fallen upon that brilliant countenance. We stepped out into the linden grove, and then it came upon me, indeed, that the heavens were dulled, and a leaden languor had seized upon the fresh young foliage.

Both leaves and yellow blossom hung wearily in the gloom, and I felt the intense lull that precedes an electric shower. I looked at him. He was entirely pale, and the soft lids of his eyes had dropped,--their lights had gone in like the sun. His lips seemed to flutter, and he spoke with apprehensive agitation.

"I think it will rain, but we cannot stay in the conservatory."

"Sir, it will be dry there," I ventured.

"No, but if it should thunder."

At the very instant the western cloudland, as it were, shook with a quivering flash, though very far off; for the thunder was, indeed, but a mutter several minutes afterwards. But he seemed stricken into stillness, and moved not from the trees at the entrance of the avenue.

"Oh! sir," I cried,--I could not help it, I was in such dread for him,--"do not stand under the trees. It is a very little way to the house, and we can run."

"Run, then," he answered sweetly. "But I cannot; I never could stir in a storm."

"Pray, sir, oh pray, come!" the big drops were beginning to p.r.i.c.k the leafy calm. "And you will take cold too, sir. Oh, come!"

But he seemed as if he could scarcely breathe. He pressed his hands on his brow and hid his eyes. I thought he was going to faint; and under a vague impression of fetching a.s.sistance, I rushed down the avenue.

FOOTNOTE:

[16] The Volkslied is a people's song; the Burschenlied a student's song.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

I can never express my satisfaction when, two or three trees from the end, I met the magic maiden herself, all hooded, and carrying an immense umbrella.

"Where is this Chevalier of ours?" she asked me, with eagerness. "You surely have not left him alone in the rain?"

"I was coming for you," I cried; for such was, in fact, the case. But she noticed not my reply, and sped fleetly beneath the now weeping trees. I stood still, the rain streaming upon my head, and the dim thunder every now and then bursting and dying mournfully, yet in the distance, when I heard them both behind me. How astonished was I! I turned and joined them. They were talking very fast,--the strange girl having her very eyes fixed on the threatening sky, at which she laughed. He was not smiling, but seemed borne along by some impulse he could not resist, and was even unconscious of; he held the umbrella above them both, and she cried to me to come also beneath the canopy.

We had only one clap as we crossed the lawn,--now reeking and deserted; but a whole levee was in the refreshment pavilion waiting for the monarch,--so many professors robed, so many Cecilians with their badges, that I was ready to shrink into a nonent.i.ty, instead of feeling myself by my late privilege superior to all. Every person appeared to turn as we made our way. But for all the clamor I heard him whisper, "You have done with me what no one ever did yet; and oh!

I do thank you for being so kind to the foolish child. But come with me, that I may thank you elsewhere."

"I would rather stay, sir. Here is my place, and I went out of my place to do you that little service of which it is out of the question to speak."

"You must not be proud. Is it too proud to be thanked, then?"

With the gentlest grace, he held out to her the single jasmine blossom. "See, no tear has dropped upon it. Will you take its last sigh?"

She drew it down into her hand, and, almost as airily as he moved, glided in among the crowd, which soon divided us from her.

Seraphael himself sighed so very softly that none could have _heard_ it; but I saw it part his lips and heave his breast.

"She does not care for me, you see," he said, in a sweet, half pettish manner, as we left the pavilion.

"Oh! sir, because she does not come with you? That is the very reason, because she cares so much."

"How do you make that out?"

"I remember the day I brought you that water, sir, how I was afraid to stay, although I would have given everything to stay and look at your face; and I ran away so fast because of that."

"Oh, Carlomein, hus.h.!.+ or you must make me vain. I wonder very much why you do like me; but, pray, let it be so."

"Like you!" I exclaimed, as we moved along the corridor, "you are _all_ music,--you must be; for I knew it before I had heard you play."

"They do say so. I wonder whether it is true," said he, laughing a bright, sudden laugh, as brightly sounding as his smile was bright to gaze on. "We shall all know some time, I suppose. Now, Carlomein, what am I to say to this master of yours about you? For here we are at the door, and there is he inside."

"Pray, sir, say what you like, and nothing if you like, for I don't care whether he storms or not."

"'Storms' is a very fine word; but, like our thunder, I expect it will go off very quietly. How kind it was not to thunder and lighten much, and to leave off so soon!"

"Oh! I am so glad. I hate thunder and lightning."

"Do you? and yet you ran for me. Thank you for another little lesson."

He turned and bowed to me, not mockingly, but with a sweet, grave humor. He opened the door at that moment, and I went in behind him.

The very first person I saw was Aronach, sitting, as if he never intended to move again, in a great wooden chair, writing in a long book, while other attentive worthies looked over his shoulder. His eyes were down, and my companion crept round the room next the wall as noiselessly as a walking shadow. Then behind the chair, and putting up his finger to those around, he embraced with one arm the chair's stubborn back, and stretched the other forwards, spreading his slender hand out wide into the shape of some pink, clear fan-sh.e.l.l, so as to intercept the view Aronach had of his long book and that unknown writing.

"Der Teufel!" growled Aronach, "dost thou suppose I don't know thy hand among a thousand? But thy pranks won't disturb me any more now than they did of old. Take it off, then, and thyself too."

"Oh! I daresay; but I won't go. I want to show thee a sight, Father Aronach."

He then drew _my_ arm forwards, and held my hand by the wrist, as by a handle, just under Aronach's nose. He looked indeed now; and so sharply, snappishly, that I thought he would have bitten my fingers, and felt very nervous. Seraphael broke into one of his laughter chimes, but still dangled my member; and when Aronach really saw my phiz, he no longer snapped nor roused up grandly, but sank back impotent in that enormous chair. He winked indeed furiously, but his eyes did not flash, so I grew still in my own mind, and thought to speak to him first. I said, somehow, and never thinking a creature was by, except that companion of mine,--