Part 10

"No," Gerald resolutely interrupted. "She refuses to see you, so I shall not go to her. I know what I owe my wife; either Castle Steinach will receive you as its future mistress, or it will never see me within its walls. I know the hostile influence acting against us; my mother may be stern and proud, but this boundless harshness to her only son is no part of her character; it is Arlow's work! You know that after our betrothal, I wrote to him frankly and unreservedly, but with the respect of a son; he vouchsafed no reply, but instantly wrote to my mother, representing the affair to her from his point of view. She received the first news from him before my letter reached her hands, and how the tidings were conveyed I perceived from her reply. Since his return home he has constantly fanned the flames, and at last made an open breach."

"I can endure his hatred," said Danira, whose eyes were still fixed upon the house. "I have unintentionally thwarted his favorite wish, and he always cherished an aversion towards me, but to have Edith turn from me in persistent resentment was at first more than I could bear. She knows from my letter how and where we met, knows that mortal peril first brought me to your arms. I concealed nothing, and, with all the ardent love of the friend, the sister, implored her forgiveness if I had caused her pain--she has not sent even one line in answer."

"Her father would not have allowed it, his command----"

"Edith never lets herself be denied anything. She is accustomed to obey the voice of her heart, and is all-powerful with her father. Had she wished to write me she would have done so, in spite of any opposing influence; but she cannot pardon me for robbing her of your love--I understand that."

Gerald was silent; he would not own how heavily this unforgiving resentment on the part of his mother and Edith weighed upon him. It cast a dark shadow on the happiness of the newly-wedded pair.

Meantime the conversation between the officers had grown louder and more animated, and Lieutenant Salten now said:

"Gerald has been the wisest of us all. He is taking away an enviable souvenir of the campaign, and will make a sensation in the garrison with his beautiful trophy of the war. When people learn the romance associated with it----"

"You were somewhat involved in the romance too," interrupted another of the group laughing. "Your stolen portfolio, at any rate, played an important part in the affair."

"Yes, that confounded boy who made himself so officious and was sent off on suspicions of being a spy, robbed me of it and instantly carried it to his master. Of course they could do nothing with the notes and letters, but the portfolio itself served as a means of luring Gerald into the trap. Had the plot succeeded we should have had one brave comrade the less, and--ah, there comes the young couple! See how lovely Frau von Steinach looks in the full glare of the sunlight! I stick to it, Gerald is bringing home the best prize of the whole campaign."

The other officers seemed to be of the same opinion, for when Gerald now approached with his wife, they vied with each other in attentions to the latter, and the young pair instantly became the centre of the circle, from which they could not escape for some time.

Meanwhile George came out of the cabin with Jovica, whom he had succeeded in finding, and took her to a part of the deck at some little distance from his companions, who made no attempt to interrupt them, for it was well known that George was very sensitive about his _protegee_, and really would not hesitate to fight half the company if he were irritated. But just now he looked as dignified as though he was Father Leonhard himself, and his tone was equally grave as he began:

"Look at your home once more, Jovica, you are seeing it for the last time! True, this Krivoscia is a God-forsaken country, and we thank all the saints that we are safe out of it again, but it is your native land, and that must be respected."

Jovica glanced toward the mountains because her companion was pointing to them, but she understood very little of his speech, and the parting from her home did not appear to trouble her much, for she looked extremely happy, though she knew the ship was bearing her to a distant country.

"Now we are going to Tyrol," George continued. "To the beautiful land of the Tyrol, a very different place from your mountain wildernesses. There are forests, rivers, vineyards and castles, and there's not another place in the whole world equal to the Moosbach Farm. Some day it will belong to me. Do you understand, Jovica? I'm no poor vagabond like Bartel, who, when he takes off his uniform, must enter somebody's service. I'm the only son and heir of farmer Moosbach, and in our country that means something."

Jovica listened attentively, but her knowledge of German was not yet sufficiently comprehensive for her to understand these boasted advantages. George saw that she did not perceive his meaning and tried to enlarge her ideas by seizing both her hands and drawing her toward him, when Father Leonhard suddenly emerged from the cabin and stood directly behind the pair.

"What are you doing on this deck among the men, Jovica?" he asked, with unwonted sternness. "Your place is over yonder with Frau von Steinach."

"Why, I was with her, your reverence, and none of the others would dare come near her!" replied George, instantly taking up his _protegee's_ cause. "I wouldn't advise them to try it. If any one does, he'll go heels over head into the water the very next minute."

Father Leonhard's face showed that he was not particularly edified by this protection, but he merely turned to Jovica and repeated:

"Go to Frau von Steinach!" When she had retired he approached his parishioner, who wore a very belligerent expression.

"What does this mean, George? I have forbidden you, once for all, to take such familiarities with the young girl, but you don't seem to heed my command. I am very much displeased with yon."

"Well, your reverence, I'm not pleased either!" said George, defiantly. "I found Jovica and adopted her as a child, but no one respects my paternal rights. If I even look at the girl your reverence appears and gives me a lecture, and then the lieutenant comes and unceremoniously takes her away as his wife's maid. I'm not consulted at all. I have nothing whatever to say about the matter--I won't bear it any longer."

"I have already explained to you several times that you are far too young to fill such a position. Things can't go on in this way."

"You are perfectly right, there, your reverence!" assented the young Tyrolese, so emphatically that the priest looked at him in surprise. "I have longed seen that, and was just going to speak to you about it. The place of a father doesn't suit me, I find no pleasure in it, so I'll begin the business from the other end. In short, I will marry Jovica."

Father Leonhard did not look much astonished by this declaration which he had long dreaded, but a frown darkened his brow and his voice sounded very grave:

"You will do nothing of the sort! The girl is scarcely beyond childhood, and--not at all--why, you can't even understand each other yet."

"No, we don't understand each other, but we're tremendously in love with each other," said George, earnestly, "so the best thing we can do is to get married."

"And your parents! Have you thought what they will say to such a choice?"

"Yes, my parents! Of course they'll make a row that can be heard all over Tyrol, so I'll follow Herr Gerald's example and get married on the way. We shall stay a week in Trieste, your reverence, you can unite us there. Of course you must first baptize my future wife, for she can't remain a pagan, and then many her directly after. So, when I get home the whole affair will be settled, and let my parents and the Moosbach Farm be as much upset as they please, I shall have Jovica!"

The plan flowed so glibly from the lips of the young Tyrolese that it was evident he had pondered over it a long time, but unluckily Father Leonhard did not seem inclined to adopt this admirable suggestion, for he answered sternly:

"Put this nonsense out of your head; it can't be thought of under any circumstances."

"I'm only following my lieutenant's example," George persisted. "Heaven and earth were moved to prevent his marriage; his mother and Colonel Arlow, the brother-in-law and the whole people of Krivoscia cried out against it. He didn't mind it in the least, but had his own way, and I mean to do the same."

"But Herr von Steinach's case is entirely different. He has been of age several years, and besides, before taking the decisive step, he made every effort in his power to obtain his mother's consent. It was hard enough for me to bless a marriage which lacked the mother's benediction, and I finally yielded only to the force of circumstances. Stephan Hersovac's opposition to the marriage rendered it impossible for his sister to remain longer in his house, and it was equally impossible for her to accompany her lover as his affianced wife. So I performed the wedding ceremony in the hope that I should yet succeed in reconciling the mother. But you cannot yet marry without your parents' consent and you know as well as I do that you will never obtain it. They will simply believe that you are out of your senses."

"Yes, I once thought so myself," replied George with the utmost composure, "but people change their minds. I told you, your reverence, that the whole race up yonder practice witchcraft, especially the women. Dani--the young baroness, I mean--tried it on my lieutenant, and Jovica has used hers on me; I'm just as far gone as he is. But this witchcraft isn't at all disagreeable and does not imperil the salvation of the soul, if a priest gives it his blessing as I saw yesterday in church."

"But I repeat that the case is totally different. Gerald's wife belongs to a foreign people, it is true, but she is descended from one of the most distinguished families of the race, and the education she received in the commandant's house, with her own personal qualities, fit her for the position in life she will henceforth occupy. Jovica is the child of poor shepherds, she is not even a Christian, understands neither our language nor customs, and perhaps will never learn to accommodate herself to them. You must see yourself that such a girl can never make a suitable mistress of the Moosbach Farm."

"I see nothing at all except that I must have Jovica. Nothing else will do, and I'll get her too, so I have no anxiety on that score."

"And suppose your parents disinherit the disobedient son? Gerald von Steinach, under any circumstances, is the heir of his father's property, and has already taken possession of it, but farmer Moosbach can deprive you of the farm at any time, and from what I know of him he will do so if you persist in your own way. What then?"

"Then I'll let the farm go to the deuce!" George obstinately declared. "Jovica is worth more to me than all the Moosbach property. The lieutenant will not object to keeping me with him, I know, and his wife will have a countrywoman in mine. I'm in earnest, your reverence. I'll give up my inheritance if it costs me Jovica."

Father Leonhard saw that he was in earnest, and knew the young fellow's obstinacy sufficiently well to dread a serious family quarrel. For the present, however, the conversation was interrupted by an officer, who approached the priest and requested him to accompany him to the forward deck.

Father Leonhard consented, after saying gravely to George: "We will discuss this matter further," but the latter leaned defiantly against the side of the cabin, folded his arms, and gazed around the decks to discover Jovica.

The young Slav was with Danira, who, after some time, sent her down to the cabin again on some errand. She obediently avoided the stern of the ship and sorrowfully descended the stairs, but had scarcely entered the saloon, which for the moment chanced to be empty, when there was a clattering noise on the steps and George himself stood in the doorway.

Jovica's whole face brightened, but she glanced anxiously toward the stairs, and said timidly:

"Father Leonhard!"

"He's up on deck," replied George. "Yet even if he should come, no matter: I've just told him how we both feel, but I happened to think that I haven't spoken of it to you, Jovica. You must be asked, so I want to marry you! Will you have me?"

The abrupt, laconic proposal met with an unexpected obstacle. Jovica had no idea what the strange word meant. She repeated it with a foreign accent, but in a tone that plainly showed she associated no meaning with it.

"Oh, yes, she doesn't understand," said George, somewhat perplexed, realizing for the first time his future wife's education. "Well, then, she must learn. Come here, Jovica, and listen to me. Yesterday we went to church and saw the lieutenant and his bride married. We will go to church, too, and Father Leonhard will marry us in the same way. Do you understand that?"

He tried to speak distinctly, and occasionally introduced a Slavonic word, which had some success, for the young girl nodded eagerly and answered in broken German:

"I know--baptize--become a Christian."

"Yes, and then directly after--marry!" said George, emphasizing the word energetically, as if he hoped in this way to make her understand its meaning, but Jovica's knowledge of the language had not yet extended to the idea of marriage, and she only repeated inquiringly:

"Become a Christian?"

"That's only a minor affair, the main thing is the marriage!" cried the impatient suitor, whose piety deserted him on this point. "Girl, for heaven's sake, you must understand! why, it's what you were born for! Marry--have a wedding--get married!"

But no matter how vehemently and almost angrily he emphasized the words, it was all in vain, the young girl looked helplessly at him, and was apparently on the verge of tears.

"She really doesn't understand," said George, in sheer despair. "I must make it plainer to her," and as though an inspiration had suddenly come he embraced his _protegee_, pressing a hearty kiss on her lips.

Strangely enough his meaning now seemed to dawn on Jovica. True, she started at the kiss, but instead of making the slightest resistance she nestled closer to the young soldier, gazing at him with sparkling eyes, while in a low, but infinitely sweet tone, she repeated the word George had taught her with so much difficulty.

"Thank Heaven, she has understood it at last; I ought to have tried that first!" he said, with great satisfaction, and while repeating several times the new method of instruction which had succeeded so admirably, added, by way of explanation:

"That's the way people do when they marry, and before, too. The only difference is that before a priest interferes and forbids, and afterwards he has nothing to forbid, but gives it his blessing. Now come to the lieutenant and his wife. They must be the first to know that we have settled the matter and are going to be married. Jovica--say the word once more! It sounds so pretty when you bring it out so clumsily."

And Jovica, whose faculty of comprehension had wonderfully increased, uttered the newly-learned word to the entire satisfaction of her tutor and future husband.

Meantime the steamer had continued her course, and was now approaching the outlet of the bay. Gerald and Danira looked back at the slowly disappearing scene.

The waves rippled and flashed in the sunlight. Far away on the shore lay Cattaro with its white houses and towering citadel, and directly above it towered the dark mountains, their rugged, riven peaks bathed in the full radiance of morning. The ship now passed through the straits at the end of the harbor. The gloomy, threatening cliffs rose on either side as if to bar the way. Then the blue, heaving sea opened before them, as it had looked from the rocky height on that memorable day--a mist-veiled, sun-illumined waste of waters.

IX.

The voyage had been a swift and pleasant one, and after a short stay in Trieste the train conveyed the regiment to its native mountains and former garrison, the capital of southern Tyrol.

The city was all astir, for every one had hurried to welcome the returning soldiers who had endured so many a hard fight on the farthest frontier of the empire, and now, after dangers and privations of every kind, were coming home in peace.

At the railway station and immediately around it a joyous throng waited for the train; the country people especially had flocked there in crowds. There was scarcely a peasant family in the neighborhood that did not have son, brother or some other relative in the Imperial Chasseurs to whom they now wished to give the first welcome home.

At last the thunder of cannon far and near among the mountains announced the approach of the train, which, amid loud cheers and waving banners, ran into the station. The cars were opened and the whole regiment poured out upon the platform, to which only the magistrates and a few of the most distinguished citizens had been admitted.

After the first flood of official and friendly greetings was over, Gerald von Steinach, who had his young wife leaning on his arm, attempted to make his way through the throng, he too had seen many a familiar face, pressed many a hand, and received numerous congratulations, for through his comrades' letters his marriage was already known in the garrison; but they were only the greetings of strangers.

The arms which at his departure had clasped him with such anxious love were not outstretched to him on his return; no mother waited to welcome him home, and yet his whole heart was devoted to his mother and hitherto he had been her all.

In this hour of universal joyous meeting the young officer felt, with infinite grief, what he had lost. The parental home, which now opened to every one, was closed to him and his young wife, and perhaps would remain so forever. Much as he strove to conceal his depression he could not entirely banish the cloud that rested on his brow, and Danira guessed what he was missing; she best knew what his choice of a wife had cost him. She instantly assented when he proposed withdrawing from the crowd as soon as possible and driving to his lodgings in the city, where the young couple intended to remain until the arrangements for the future home had been made.

Behind them walked Jovica, who had travelled in the same compartment, and George, who, though obliged to ride with his comrades, had shot through the crowd like a rocket as soon as he arrived, to take the place he considered his rightful property.

The young Slav now wore the Tyrolese peasant costume, which had been obtained for her on the way, and in which she looked extremely pretty. Her shining black hair was carefully arranged in braids, and her large black eyes gazed curiously and joyously at the throng. But her appearance was still extremely childish and entirely foreign; one could see at the first glance that she belonged to a different race.

George walked with great importance by her side. He had not entrusted his love affair to his lieutenant in vain, the latter's advocacy proved very effective. Gerald and Danira had warmly espoused his cause, and, during the journey, even won over Father Leonhard.

The priest, it is true, had no objection to Jovica personally; he had himself become fond of his gentle, modest, docile pupil; but he still shook his head doubtfully at the idea of seeing the "little pagan" the mistress of the Moosbach Farm, and declared it to be impossible to obtain the consent of George's parents, though he had promised his mediation.

For the present the priest's attention was claimed by some ecclesiastical brothers who had also been present at the reception of the regiment in the station.

Gerald had just escaped from the throng, and was walking with Danira toward the door, when both stopped as though rooted to the floor at the sight of the young lady who was waiting there to meet them. The dainty, graceful figure in the elegant travelling dress, the fair hair whose curls escaped from beneath the little hat, the sparkling blue eyes--the whole vision was so familiar and so dear. Gerald dropped the arm of his wife, who stood pale and speechless. He intended to face the painful meeting alone, but the young girl had already rushed to Danira and flung both arms round her neck.

"Danira, you naughty runaway! So I am to find you again in the Tyrol."

"Edith, how came you here?" cried the young wife, in half-joyous, half-startled tones. "Is it an accident?"

"Oh! no. I came especially to receive you. I wanted to bring you the first greeting," replied Edith. She hesitated a few seconds, then hastily turned and held out her hand to her former lover. "How do you do, Gerald? Welcome home with your wife!"

Gerald bowed silently over the little hand that lay in his. He did not feel its slight quiver when his lips pressed it. He only saw Edith's blooming face, her smile, and a deep sigh of relief escaped him. Thank God! Here at least he had caused no suffering as he had feared; here at least forgiveness was proffered.

"Did you really come on our account?" cried Danira, with eager joy. "Oh, you do not suspect what this welcome from your lips is to me--to us both."

The young lady drew back a step, with a comic assumption of formality.

"Don't be so impetuous, madame! I have another important mission to discharge, and must maintain my dignity as official ambassador. Castle Steinach sends a greeting to its young master and mistress, and is ready to receive them. They will find open hearts and arms there. Here is a letter from your mother, Gerald; only a few lines, in which she calls her son and daughter to her."

"Edith--this is impossible--is it your work?" cried Gerald, still doubting as he took the note which bore his mother's handwriting.

"My first essay in diplomacy! I think it hasn't resulted so badly, and it wasn't very easy either; for both aunt and papa were united against me. But now you must let me have Danira to myself for half an hour, Gerald. We must part again immediately, and I want to have her alone at least once more."

"Part! Why, surely you will go with us?"

"No, I shall take the next express train and join my father in G. But your mother expects you at Steinach this very day, and you ought not to keep her waiting; great preparations have been made for your reception."

Meanwhile Gerald had hastily torn open and glanced through the letter, which he now handed to his wife. It really contained only a few lines, but they confirmed Edith's words. It was the greeting of a mother calling her children to her.

"How do you do, Fraeulein? I'm here again, too!" said George, taking advantage of the momentary pause to introduce himself, and he saw with satisfaction that he was not forgotten.

The old mischievous smile hovered round the young lady's lips as she turned toward him.

"George Moosbach! Have you got safe back from Krivoscia? After all it isn't quite so bad as you represented it, for I see you wear the medal for courage. Listen, George, you make a great impression upon me as a returning conqueror! What of the offer with which you once honored me? I am now free again, and should not be wholly disinclined to become the mistress of the Moosbach Farm."

"I thank you very kindly," stammered George, intensely confused. "I'm very sorry, but--I'm already engaged."

With these words he pulled Jovica forward and presented her; but Edith now burst into a merry laugh.