Withered Leaves Volume I Part 7

A rain-drenched trap stood unwatched before the door; the horse, with limply drooping mane, s.h.i.+ed at the lightning without causing the heavy waggon to move from its position.

Two parties stood opposite one another in the small tavern parlour; gleaming pieces of amber, of the most beautiful pale-yellow shade, lay upon the table; on the right-hand, in the background of the room, several washtubs could be seen, in which the fishermen, with their brawny, naked arms, sought to cleanse the produce of the pits on the sh.o.r.e from the soil that clung to it.

But one of the men had just now left this occupation. With menacing gesture, with clenched fist, he stood erect, his face glowing with anger, and appeared to be repudiating some accusation that was hurled against him by a man with a remarkable countenance, who leaned upon the table containing the pieces of amber. The two other fishermen certainly continued to wash the primeval resin in their tubs, at the same time, however, taking part in the dispute with violent words.

The stranger who, with folded arms, opposed an iron determination to this fury of the Baltic Masanielli, was very uncommon looking. His dress was slightly Russian. His two companions who stood beside him, were clad entirely in national costume; but his features betokened a southern origin.

He had the fiery eye of an Italian; his whole figure might have led one to take him for one of those _principe_, who, at the feast of _Corpus Christi_, ride on splendid horses behind the Pope, as his _guardia n.o.bile_. Only a wilder expression lay in his features, dark overhanging eye-brows, sharp lines about mouth and nose, told of abundant evil pa.s.sionate experiences.

"I counted the pieces accurately in the pit," he cried to the shouting fishermen, "I looked closely at them. One was large enough to make a pretty toilet casket, and that piece is missing; it has been suppressed in was.h.i.+ng!"

The fishermen's muscular hands were raised again in denial of this accusation. The fisherman's wife, in red headkerchief and green woollen dress, interposed, saying that there should be no disturbance in her parlour; the piece had, perhaps, fallen from the waggon, and would be found after all.

"It is a disgrace to accuse honest people falsely!" cried the ring-leader of the amber-washers, whilst a gleam of yellow lightning flashed, and a quickly-following clap of thunder awoke the echo of the cliffs.

Blanden had listened to the dispute at the open door. Then he entered, and his sudden appearance caused the noise to cease.

"Landlady!" cried he, "a drink to refresh me! And you people, can you not agree quietly? Do not the heavens make commotion enough? Spirits and beer for these good people; for to-day they have carted sand, and washed amber enough--they need refreshment! Hang my coat before the kitchen stove, best of women! The old Samland G.o.ds have washed my skin!"

"Who are you, my Herr?" cried the amber merchant, "that you issue orders here, and withhold my washermen from their work?"

"Grant them a short rest," said Blanden, as he seated himself in his s.h.i.+rt sleeves at the table upon which gleamed the pale yellow gifts of the East Sea. "Perhaps we, too, may do some business, my good sir; I am just in the humour to-day to buy the Great Mogul's diamonds."

The Italian became more friendly; still, however, he regarded the interloper with a distrustful glance. His two companions, with their slit Calmuck eyes, permitted themselves to grin pleasantly. They looked meaningly at the fishermen, who were already refres.h.i.+ng themselves with the liquor which the hostess had given them.

Blanden understood how to acknowledge their friendliness, and recommended them also to the landlady's care.

Now a deep silence reigned. Blanden examined the pieces of amber; the dealer looked at him with a keen glance, and once started back as if startled, when Blanden's features were illumined by a sharp flash of lightning. It seemed as if some sudden recollection had dawned within him. The keen glances with which from henceforth he regarded the other, however, bore no tokens of amity about them.

"You come from Russia?" the n.o.bleman began his enquiries, while he weighed a large piece of amber in his hands.

"From Wilna, my Herr."

"But you are no Russian?"

"I am an Italian."

"I took you for one. I love the Italians! They are a gifted people!

What a pity that many years of oppression keeps their n.o.ble fire in subjection, so that it only finds vent for itself in petty, malicious outbreaks, like the flames of their Solfatara! An Italian--and how do you come to Russia?"

"Business connections. A merchant remains there where he has most prospect of gain."

"Then the amber trade between these coasts and Russia is probably flouris.h.i.+ng?"

"It depends," said the stranger, with a cunning smile, "whether a man succeeds in bringing his wares cheaply across the frontier. Besides, the peasants, who have farmed their royalty from Government, are not exactly reasonable with their amber, let them dig it out of the earth with spades, or rescue it from the sea-weed, or obtain it with dragnets from the sea."

"What reflections might it not awake," said Blanden to himself, and hardly noticing the others. "The forests of other days have sunk beneath the earth, and still offer their treasures to the living race--but what becomes of our sunken hopes? They have nothing, nothing more to give us! Ah! if any one could dream so deeply, so utterly deeply, he might hear the rustling of the trees in the submarine forests, and see sitting there the amber nymph in magnificent jewels of the deep, in those pale-yellow halls, and singing a song of the old splendours of the never-penetrated forests, into which the complaints of men have never yet taken refuge."

And, as he looked more closely at the vision of the amber-nymph, it bore Eva's features, and he resolved to deck her worthily of his vision.

"But what shall I do with this rough, raw material?" said he, petulantly, to the dealer, "I cannot buy any of this from you; at the most, only the little piece which contains the imprisoned fly. Oh, happy he, who might sit so firmly in a woman's heart!"

They agreed about the not insignificant price of this rarity; the dealer then began--

"I see clearly that only the artistically formed produce of the ocean has any value for you. Yet I know first-rate masters in Wilna to whom I sell my wares, and who know how to lend every delicate form to them.

Give me commissions! When I return I will certainly bring you everything that you can wish to your complete satisfaction."

"And when do you return?"

"In a few weeks."

Blanden considered for a moment, then he said--

"Well, then, you shall procure me an outfit for an amber princess; everything of pale-yellow, most precious material. Take out your pocket-book, and make notes. First, a tasteful toilet casket, fragrant as the Oriental beauties love it; then a splendid string of beads--the beads of our Northern Ocean shall shame the corals of the Southern Sea; a bracelet; a brooch with two winged doves, or a little Cupid with a dart. Can the master's art produce any other such perfections that are fitted for beauty's adornment, even if it does not hover before my own imagination, here am I, a ready purchaser."

"I should, of course, always find a sale for such goods," said the dealer, "yet may I ask your name?"

Blanden told his name and that of his castle. The Italian wrote both down; a triumphant expression lay in the slight smile around the corners of his mouth, in his piercing glances; he himself gave his card, upon which stood the name, Carlo Baluzzi, of Wilna.

Blanden's thoughts meanwhile lingered with his campanula: "A flower-fairy she appeared to me," thought he to himself; "the original child of Nature! For me she shall become an amber-nymph! All my past life shall remain deeply buried beneath the high, rising tide; but its tears shall be made into beads which shall adorn her."

In the meantime the storm without had pa.s.sed away, but the darkness of the tempest's clouds had been succeeded by the darkness of the evening.

The fishermen returned to their work; the landlady lighted a few dripping tallow candles; Baluzzi's eye rested upon the tubs, that not a piece which he had bought so dearly might be lost to him.

Blanden took leave; notwithstanding the well-meaning coal-stove, his coat was wet through and through, but no choice remained to him.

"Farewell, Herr von Blanden," said the Italian, with sharp emphasis. "I am pleased to have renewed my acquaintance with you."

"Renewed?" asked Blanden, astonished.

"Yes, my Herr."

"And where have you seen me?"

"On Lago Maggiore, two years ago."

"I do not recollect--"

"Nor is it possible! The pleasure was entirely on my side! You lived then in such suns.h.i.+ne of bliss that you did not notice the two shadows in the background, which hastened quickly past you."

Blanden, while he walked s.h.i.+veringly along through the chilly evening air, meditated vainly what connection there could have been between Baluzzi and himself during his stay by Lago Maggiore.

What did those peculiar looks signify, which he suddenly a.s.sumed? What should the remarkable emphasis mean which he gave to his words--yes, the enmity which gleamed in his features--in his whole demeanour?

After mature reflection, Blanden came to the conclusion that he must have been mistaken if he sought to ascribe any special importance to a chance meeting.

But when Blanden had left the room, the Italian rubbed his hands together with scornful satisfaction.