Part 11

"I packed my valise for a sojourn of two or three days among these pocket Alps, put my diamonds in that secure inner pocket, and took a droschkey for the railway station. The trip to Schandau (the principal village of Saxon Switzerland) can also be made by steamer; but after discussing the pros and cons of rival routes with my host of the hotel the evening previous, I had decided to go by rail, which provides nearly half as much pretty scenery as the river road, and takes up less than a fourth as much time. I alighted at the station door somewhat late, and having given my trunk in charge to a porter, was hurrying to get my ticket, when my attention was caught by a young lady, who was standing on the platform in an attitude that bespoke suspense and anxiety. Her veil was down, but from the slender elegance of her figure and the harmonious perfection of her costume, I could not doubt that her face was beautiful. Evidently she was not a German; had she been a thought less tastefully dressed, I should have said she was an English girl; as it was, she might be either an Austrian or an American. Even then, I rather inclined to the latter hypothesis.

"She appeared to be entirely alone; but she was scanning with ill-concealed eagerness the crowd that was entering the station, as if in search of a familiar face. When her glance fell upon me, I fancied that she took an impulsive step in my direction; but she checked herself immediately, and looked away. While I was hastily debating within myself whether or not it would be 'the thing' for me to go up and ask her if she needed any assistance, I saw a _dientsman_, or carrier, come up the steps, and taking off his cap, deliver her a note. She tore it nervously open, threw back her veil impatiently, and ran her eyes over the contents. Beautiful she was, indeed! My anticipations had been behind the truth on that score. Such strange, mystical, dark eyes underneath level black eyebrows I had never seen. But just then there was an expression of dismay and distress in them that made me half forget to remember their fascination.

"She now addressed the carrier, seemingly in broken German, for he evidently did not well understand her, and the answer he made appeared to increase her embarrassment. Her slender foot tapped the stone pavement; she read the note once more, crushed it up in her hand, and then her arms fell listlessly at her sides with an air almost of despair. She looked this way and that helplessly.

"By this time several persons besides myself had observed her bewilderment, and I thought I perceived that a certain fat old Jew, wearing a number of glittering rings and a very massive watch-chain, was inclined to take advantage of it. This decided me on my course of action: I came quickly forward, as if I had just caught sight of her, and lifting my hat with an air of respectful acquaintanceship, I said in French:

"'If mademoiselle will permit me, I may perhaps be of some use.'

"Her veil, either accidentally or of design, dropped again over her face as she turned it towards me. I knew that she was scrutinising me with a woman's intuitive insight, and I tried to look as guileless and respectful as I am sure I felt. In a moment she asked:

"'Monsieur est-il Français?'

"'I'm an Englishman,' I answered, blushing a little, I dare say, at her implied criticism of my imperfect accent.

"'Oh, I am glad! I, too, am almost English--I am American. But I don't know how I can be helped, really!'

"'Some friend has missed an appointment----?'

"'Yes, indeed! Oh dear! it's worse than that. It's my father.'

"'You were going by the train----'

"'There has been some stupid mistake. I'm sure I don't know what I shall do. We had arranged to start at ten o'clock this morning, and I started first, because I wanted to do some shopping on the way down. I understood that we were to rendezvous here. But he did not come at ten, and I sent a dientsman to the hotel; and now he has brought word from the hotel-keeper that papa started by the ten o'clock steamboat. I had not understood that it was to be the steamboat, you see; and I'm left here all alone.'

"'But if you took the next train, you would still arrive two or three hours before him; that is--may I ask where you were going?'

"'Oh, I think Schandau is the name of the place.'

"'Schandau? Oh, then it's all right. There is a train starts immediately.'

"'Yes--but--no; I'm afraid I can't do that.'

"I was puzzled. 'Perhaps you would like to telegraph him to come back here for you?'

"'I don't know where to telegraph, so that he would get it; besides---- But, excuse me, sir. You are very kind; but I won't trouble you with my affairs. I dare say I shall get on very well.'

"She turned away with a slight bow; but she was so evidently nonplussed, that I determined to make another effort to gain her confidence. There was not much time to lose; the first bell was already ringing.

"'I am going on to Schandau,' I said. 'If you like, I will send you back to your hotel in a droschkey; and when I get to Schandau, I will hunt up your father and tell him the mistake he has made. Here is my card.'

"She looked at it, and her manner at once changed. A half-repressed smile glimmered on her face. I felt that we were on a right footing at last, though I could not at the time understand how it had happened.

"'I will confess to you, Mr. Gainsborough,' she said, glancing up at me with a charming trustfulness in her manner. 'My papa is so forgetful. We were not coming back to Dresden. After Schandau we were going on to Prague; and he has gone off with all our luggage, and--and he has left me without even any money to buy my ticket! At least, I did have enough, but I spent it all in my shopping.'

"This cleared up matters at once. 'How stupid of me not to have seen it all before!' I exclaimed. 'Now, we have just time to get the train,' I hurried her on with me as I spoke, bought our tickets in the twinkling of an eye, and without waiting for the change, convoyed her rapidly across the platform, and, with the assistance of a guard, we found ourselves safely ensconced in a first-class carriage just as the train moved off. My beautiful companion, breathless, smiling, and yet seemingly a little frightened, sank back on the cushions, and felt for the fan at her girdle. I wished to give her plenty of time to recover her composure, and to feel assured that I had no intention of taking undue advantage of our position; so, having arranged the windows to suit her convenience, I betook myself to the other end of the carriage, and diligently stared at the prospect for fully five minutes. Nature could endure no more, and at the end of that time I was fain to change my posture. I stole a glance at my fair American. She, too, was absorbed in the prospect on her side, which consisted at the moment of a perpendicular cutting about ten feet distant from her window. Her attitude as she sat there was the perfection of feminine grace. Her left hand, loosely holding the fan, drooped on her lap; her sleeve, slightly pushed up, revealed the lovely curve of her arm and wrist. I am a particular admirer of beautiful wrists and hands, and here I saw my ideal. How exquisitely the glove fitted! and how artistically the colour harmonised with the rest of her costume! The other little hand supported her chin: I could just see the rounded outline of her small cheek, and the movement of the dark eyelash projecting beyond it. Beneath her hat the black hair turned in a careless coil, and charming little downy curls nestled in the nape of her neck. She was a thorough brunette, pale, and yet pervaded with warm colour. Beneath the skirt of her crisp dress peeped the pointed toe of an ineffable little boot, which occasionally lifted itself and tapped the floor softly. Suddenly, in the midst of my admiring inspection, she turned round upon me, and our eyes met. There was an instant's constraint, and then we both laughed, and the constraint passed away, not to return.

"'I was going to ask you,' said I, 'whether you wouldn't prefer sitting on this side. You will find the river better worth looking at than that stone wall.'

"'I am under your orders, sir, for the present; you put me here; and now, if you tell me I am to go elsewhere, I shall obey.'

"She rose as she spoke; the jolting of the carriage caused her to lose her balance; I held out my hand to assist her, and so she tottered across and seated herself opposite me.

"'Now are you satisfied?' she asked demurely, folding her hands in her lap, and sending a flash into me from those mystical eyes.

"'Yes, indeed, if you are. Did you ever travel this way before?'

"'If you mean, alone with a gentleman I never met before--no!'

"'Oh, what I meant was----'

"'I know--I was only making fun. Yes, I believe I was in this part of the country once, when I was a very little girl; that was before I went to the Convent, you know.'

"'To the Convent?'

"She gave a charming impromptu laugh. 'I wasn't quite a nun--I don't want to make you believe that! Only I was brought up in a convent near Paris; educated there, as many young ladies are. I was there seven years--wasn't that long? and I only got out a little while ago.'

"'It must have been awfully dull.'

"'Oh, I liked it in a sort of way; they were very kind to me there; but then I didn't know how pleasant it was outside! You would never believe how delightful the world is, if you were only told about it. My papa used to tell me about it sometimes; and he is a great traveller--he has been everywhere. But I didn't realise it until I saw for myself.'

"'Have you been to America since leaving the Convent?'

"'Oh yes. I went to New York, and saw my cousins there. Papa went with me, but he came back to Paris first, and I followed later. I met him again in Paris only a week ago. He will be surprised to see you here, Mr. Gainsborough. What a funny way you have chosen to go from Paris to Rome--through Dresden!'

"'Yes, I--but, by-the-bye, how did you know I was going to Rome? and why will your papa be surprised----?'

"Again she laughed, and regarded me with so delightfully mischievous a glance that I felt convinced I must in some way be making a fool of myself. What did it all mean? I bit my lip, and the colour came into my face from provocation at my own evident thick-headedness.

"'If you had only waited a little longer in Paris,' she continued, still smiling enigmatically, 'perhaps we might have met in a more regular way, and perhaps, then, you would have let me have had a look at your--diamonds!'

"My diamonds! That explained the mystery in a flash.

"'Is your father Mr. Birchmore?'

"'I am Miss Birchmore, if you please, sir. You never asked me for my card, and I didn't like to force it on you. It was so kind of you to take me on trust, without making sure that I was all right first. I thought Englishmen were more cautious and reserved.'

"I could now join in the laugh against myself with full appreciation of the excellence of the jest. Mr. Birchmore, then, had been a married man after all. Of course he was; why had I not before remarked the strong family likeness between him and his daughter? Take her on trust, forsooth! How I longed to retort that I was ready to take her for better for worse, then and there, if she would have me. If she were a fair specimen of American girls, what a nation of houris they must be, indeed! But, then, they were not all brought up in French convents. It was that that added to Miss Birchmore the last irresistible charm. That it was that gave her that naïveté, that innocent frankness, that unconscious freedom. And this lovely creature had actually known me, by report, before we met. Her father had told her of me, and evidently he had not given me a bad character. And this accounted for the favourable change in her manner when she saw my card. Well, it was altogether delightful; I had been guided by a happy destiny; thank fortune I had so conducted myself as at least not to prejudice Miss Birchmore against me. Verily, good manners are never thrown away; and, moreover, I prided myself (as I fancy most gentlemen do) on my ability to detect a true lady at a glance.

"We now resumed our conversation on a still more confidential footing than heretofore. Miss Birchmore related many amusing anecdotes of her late experience in New York, as well as of her earlier days in the Convent, and even some passages of her child-life previous to the latter epoch. I observed, however, that ever and anon she would check herself, seeming to pass over certain passages in her history in silence; and this reminded me of the similar behaviour which I had noted in her father. That secret--that mystery, whatever it was, that weighed upon him--had cast its shadow over her young heart likewise. Honestly did I sympathise with her unknown trouble, and ardently did I long--all vulgar curiosity aside--to have the knowledge of it imparted to me. Few calamities are so heavy as that, by earnest and friendly help, they may not be lightened. What could it be? In vain I asked myself that question. Here was this lovely girl, in the first fresh bloom of existence, just beginning to taste, with eager uncloyed palate, all the sweet joys and novelties of life--health, youth, a happy temperament, and ample wealth ranked on her side; and yet this bitterness of a misfortune, not by rights her own, must needs communicate its blighting influence to her! It was tragical to think of. Yes, ever and anon I could mark its traces in her vivid face and winning bearing. A passing gloom of sadness in those wonderful eyes; a quiver of apprehension about the lips; an involuntary gesture of nervousness or lassitude; many trifling signs, scarcely perceptible, perhaps, to a regard less keen and watchful than mine had already become. Already?--but time in an acquaintance like this is not to be measured by hours or minutes. It is a trite saying, and yet how true, that those who are under the influence of a strong emotion may live years in a few heart-beats.

"'Please--oh, please don't look so solemn, Mr. Gainsborough! What has happened? I should think, to look at you, that you had been robbed of your diamonds at the very least?'

"'No; they are safe enough,' said I, calling up as cheerful a tone and aspect as I could muster, and putting my hand over the inner pocket as I spoke. 'Are you fond of diamonds?'

"'Oh, did you ever hear of a girl who wasn't? I think there is nothing so beautiful. Papa has a great many, but he says I mustn't wear them until after I am married. Isn't that hard?'

"'But perhaps you think of being married before long?' I inquired, with positively a jealous throb at my heart.

"'No; that's the trouble; I know I shall never be married.' These words were uttered in a lower and graver tone, and once more I thought I could discern the flitting traces of that mysterious melancholy. But she brightened up when I said:

"'Well, he won't object to your seeing my diamonds, at any rate; not even to your putting them on, perhaps!'

"'Just for a minute--may I? that will be splendid! Papa says that some of them are the finest he ever saw.'

"'For longer than a minute, Miss Birchmore, if you are willing--I mean if he----' What did I mean, pray? Was I going to make an offer of my hand, heart, and diamonds, on less than an hour's acquaintance, in a railway carriage? and was I going to forget that the diamonds did not belong to me at all, but to my respected mother, who would probably see me cut off with a shilling before granting me the disposal of them? Luckily for my self-possession and self-respect, the train drew up just then at the station known as Krippen, on the bank of the river immediately opposite Schandau. The guard opened the door; we alighted, and the first person we saw was Mr. Birchmore, and close behind him a short, ungainly, beetle-browed fellow, a valet or footman apparently, with a campstool, an umbrella, and a small basket of fruit on his arm.

IV.

"Mr. Birchmore shook my hand cordially, yet I fancied that he betrayed signs of embarrassment or uneasiness. He seemed glad to meet me on my own account, and yet to feel constrained by my presence. Had he any reason for wishing to conceal from me the fact that he had a daughter? It now occurred to me for the first time that in her conversation with me Miss Birchmore had never alluded to her mother. Perhaps her mother was dead--had died in her child's infancy. Perhaps the silence concerning her arose from some other and less avowable cause; there might be some matrimonial disgrace or tragedy at the bottom of the father and daughter's reserve. The idea had a certain plausibility, and yet I found it unsatisfactory. The true explanation of the mystery might not be worse than this, but I fancied it must be different--it must be something more unusual and strange.

"'This is an unexpected pleasure,' said I, for the sake of saying something, as we descended the steps down the river embankment to the ferry-boat.

"'The world is not so large a place as people pretend,' replied Mr. Birchmore. 'Have you been long in Dresden?'

"'A week or so. I've been doing the neighbourhood, and was told that Saxon Switzerland must not be left out of the list. I came near going by the boat----' Here I suddenly recollected that if Mr. Birchmore had gone by boat, as his daughter said he had, his presence in Schandau before us was wholly inexplicable. 'How did you manage to get here so quickly?' I exclaimed; 'the steamer can't be due for three hours yet!'

"He looked at me in apparent perplexity; Miss Birchmore seemed to share my own surprise. There was a pause of a few moments; then she said in a low tone:

"'You know, papa, I got word that, from some misunderstanding, you had taken the steamer instead of the train.'

"'Ah, to be sure,' he rejoined, with a short laugh; 'I see the difficulty. You must look upon me, I suppose, as a sort of magician, able to transport myself about the country on some new telegraphic principle. Well, I'm afraid I can't lay claim to any such supernatural power. I shall lose credit by the explanation, but you shall have it nevertheless.'

"'No, no! give us room for the exercise of our imagination,' cried I, laughing. The fact was, I felt as if my query had been in some way unfortunate. There was a certain effort in Mr. Birchmore's manner, and a want of spontaneity in his laugh. In my ignorance of the true lay of the land, I was continually making some irritating blunder; and the more I tried to make myself agreeable, the worse was my success.

"Mr. Birchmore, notwithstanding that I deprecated it, chose to make his explanation. 'Kate was right,' said he; 'my first intention was to go by train. Afterwards I decided on the boat, and left the hotel with the purpose of getting our passage that way, and sending Kate word to meet me at the landing. But the boat turned out to be so crowded that I changed my mind again: it was then so late that I hadn't time to reach the central railway station; my only chance of catching the train was to jump into a droschkey at the steamboat landing and drive as the _kutcher_ never drove before, for the lower station, which was half-a-mile nearer. I got there barely in time; and Kate, it seems, was waiting at the central all the while!'

"'And of course,' added Miss Birchmore, 'the people at the hotel fancied he _had_ gone by the boat, and sent me word so. Oh yes, I understand it all now; don't you, Mr. Gainsborough?'

"'I don't take it kindly of your father to strip away the illusions from life so pitilessly,' returned I, in a humorous tone; 'I should have been much happier in believing that he had flown through the air on the Arabian king's wishing-carpet.' This sally sufficed to raise the smile of which we all seemed so greatly in want, and so we got into the ferry-boat in a comparatively easy frame of mind.

"The valet to whom I have already alluded sat on a thwart near the bows, in such a position that I had a full view of him. A more unconciliating object I have seldom beheld. His body and arms were long, but his legs were short, and bowed outwards. His features were harsh, forbidding, and strongly marked; but there was an expression of power stamped upon them which fascinated my gaze in spite of the ugliness which would otherwise have made me glad to look away. It was not the power of intellect, for although there was plenty of a saturnine kind of intelligence in the countenance, it was not to be supposed that a fellow in his position of life would be remarkable for brains. No, this power was of another kind; I do not know how to describe it; but I believe some people would get out of the difficulty by calling it magnetic. Whatever it was, it produced a very disagreeable impression on me, and I could not but wonder that Mr. Birchmore should have chosen to take such a creature into his employ. I had the sense, however, on this occasion to keep my speculations to myself; I was resolved not to make a fool of myself again if I could help it--at least, not with this particular family. I noticed that whenever Mr. Birchmore had occasion to address this man, he did so in a peculiarly severe and peremptory tone, very different from his usual low-voiced style. There was seemingly no great affection for him on his master's part, therefore; and certainly the valet looked incapable of a tender feeling towards any human creature. Possibly, however, he was invaluable as a servant, and his unpropitiating exterior might cover an honest and faithful heart. Only should such turn out to be the case, I would never again put faith either in physiognomy or my own instinct of aversion. I disliked to think of this ill-favoured mortal being in daily association with my lovely Kate Birchmore--for already, in my secret soul, I called her mine! and I made up my mind that if ever fortune granted me the privilege of making her what I called her, I would see to it that monsieur the valet formed a part of anyone's household rather than ours.

"Meanwhile the ferryman had poled and paddled us across the river, on the shore of which a swarm of hotel-porters stood ready to rend us limb from limb. But Mr. Birchmore put them all aside save one, to whom he pointed out my trunk, and gave him some directions which I did not hear.

"'I take the liberty,' he then said, turning to me, 'to so far do the honours of this place as to recommend you to the most agreeable hotel in it--the Badehaus, at the farther end of the village, and about half a mile up the valley. These hotels that front the river would give you better fare, perhaps, and less unpretending accommodation; but if quiet and coolness are what you are after--not to mention the medicinal spring water and a private brass band--the Badehaus is the thing.'

"'The Badehaus be it, by all means.' This attention surprised me, not because I misdoubted my friend's courtesy, but because I had imagined that his courtesy would not stand in the way of an unobtrusive attempt to withdraw himself and his daughter from my immediate companionship. Yet so far was this from being the case, that he had taken some pains to secure our being together--for of course the Badehaus must be his own quarters. I glanced at Kate, who had taken her father's arm, and was pacing beside him thoughtfully, with downcast eyes. Was she glad as well as I?