Читать книгу Ivar: or, The Skjuts-Boy - Emilie Flygare-Carlén - Страница 16

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"Are we not going up soon, papa?" inquired Amelia, who was looking, with longing eyes, through the window at the shore, as it glided past.

"I think it is time now," said her father, who had taken a little nap. After he had yawned, and stretched himself several times, and Amelia had brushed his coat, he ascended the stairway to resume his examination of the passengers on the deck. After the lapse of a few moments, he announced to the ladies that they should come up.

"Well, God be praised, I am finally released from this irksome confinement," exclaimed Amelia, gaily, and arranged, as well as she was able, her shawl before the small mirror; then putting on her bonnet, threw over it her new veil, which she had taken from her trunk during her father's nap, and with her parasol in one hand, and a book in the other (for her father had expressly recommended her doing do), she mincingly ascended the stairway after her mother, where they were received by the lieutenant-colonel with the gallantry of a polite man of the world, who conducted them to the after part of the deck, where two ladies from the capital were seated.

After the chevalier had entertained the ladies for a short time by naming the places which they were passing, he walked to the other side of the deck, for the purpose of entering into conversation with a gentleman, whose name had particularly attracted his attention when he had looked over the list of passengers. His endeavours were completely successful, the four gentlemen, who had passed the middle age, met the lieutenant-colonel with the same politeness. The latter, on his part, was not particularly edified with the rather slothful conversation of these gentlemen; but to one who had once moved in the haute volée, it is an easy thing to keep the wheel of conversation moving, even should it turn ever so heavily.

After their arrival at Berg, the attention of the society was drawn to three new passengers who came on board. They were conducted by a gentleman, whose mere outward appearance was calculated to inspire interest. His companions were a pale and sickly looking little boy of about five or six years, and a small dog, who continually kept a watchful eye upon his youthful master.

The stranger appeared to be quite a distance beyond those bounds which separate the dreams of youth from the experience of the more mature man. He was apparently about thirty, or perhaps more. His brow was not unwrinkled, and a mournful expression, combined with a look of resignation, lay upon his countenance, and caused the sharp points of the same to stand out more prominent. What added still more to his melancholy expression were his jet black eyes, and his piercing glance, together with his long black hair, which, separated in the centre in front, falling down on both sides of his head, fluttered like a pair of mourning badges over his robust shoulders. The dress of the man, as well as that of the boy, was black, and gave room to the conclusion that they were probably mourning for a dear relative.

"That is certainly an Italian," whispered a group of chattering friends. "One can perceive it, by the colour of his skin and his black whiskers." This presumption, however, was contradicted by another, who was of opinion that his eyes lacked that vivid fire, or that bright sparkle which distinguishes the inhabitants of the South.

During all this time the stranger remained leaning against one of the wheelhouses. He had taken his boy in his arms, to point out some object to him, and the dog sat faithfully by their side, upon his haunches, busily engaged in scratching his ear. This group appeared to create much interest among the rest of the passengers. The traveller, however, soon disappeared, with his companions, down the staircase into the cabin.

Further conversation concerning the stranger was terminated by the arrival of the captain, who inquired of the gentlefolks, if they would not visit the cloister of Wreta, while the ship was passing through the locks, as there was plenty of time to spare.

The proposal was almost universally accepted, and after one or two of the most timid passengers had properly satisfied themselves that the excursion could be made while the Thor was making its slothful trip through the locks, all feet were put in motion, and the path to the landing was crowded with fluttering neckerchiefs, and waving veils. Lieutenant-colonel de Dressen, and the four other notables composed one party by themselves, and were among the first at the landing-place. "The old gentlemen are not peculiarly entertaining," thought Amelia, and suffered her gaze to fall, with much more enjoyment, on the beauties of nature, with which the environs of Ostgoetha canal abound.

The assembly now marched in various groups up the green hill, that rose slightly above the banks of the river. They passed the powerful lock gates, which, like Cyclops of the lower world, creakingly extended their black arms to receive the approaching boat. From the red-coloured building on the summit of the mountain, the eye enjoyed a splendid view, either by directing the gaze backward over the level silent plain, or looking along the smiling borders of the canal. Mutely enraptured at the extreme beauty of the surrounding scenery, one or two of the passengers remained rapt in meditation; while the majority of the assemblage continued their way through the waving fields of corn, which surrounded the ancient church.

Amelia experienced a depression of spirits when she left God's beautiful creation, and entered into the high arched and gloomy church, and beheld before her the antiquated ornaments and holy pictures, suffused with the magic dimness of the twilight. She thought that she heard deep sighs coming forth from the graves, over the tablets of which she was walking. But soon her young senses were fascinated with the most lively interest, upon the conversation of the old sexton, who was relating all kinds of queer stories concerning the history of the inmates of the vaults.

Bones fallen to dust, silence, oblivion, and decayed greatness repose in these still beds; and perhaps many a heart, which has battled out the terrible strife of human passions, has now found here its peaceful resting-place.

Among all the things which Amelia saw, she was most attracted by the cell of a monk; she could not rid herself of the thought that this little narrow and gloomy room, its small round window blinds, gilded by the rays of the setting sun, had perhaps been the witness, in former times, of the many yearly contentions of a slowly fading heart. What an isolated life, and self-denial! It appeared to her active powers of imagination that some one was moving in the dark corner where the confessional chair was standing; and she imagined a monk in it, and a person kneeling before him for the purpose of confessing.

The assemblage passed on; Amelia wrapped in her dreams followed them, no other object having the power to blot out the impression which this cell had made upon her; and when the rest of the company had walked through the extensive aisles, and finally stood before the altar to hear the sexton relate another of his remarkable stories, Amelia walked back to contemplate the cell more minutely.

But when she entered the cell, she almost sank to the ground in astonishment and fright, for did she not behold the phantom of her excited fancy before her in reality? No, it was no deception, caused by the rays of the setting sun, which shone upon the misty outlines in the dark corner, dimly and doubtfully. A pale yellow face, with a hood almost drawn down to its eyes, looked forth from the confessional chair; and did not two large black eyes stare at her? and did not sounds linger through the pale lips, although fright prevented her distinctly hearing the words? Shivering with an icy coldness, Amelia supported herself against one of the door-posts, and if she had not been exempt from all new fashioned nervous weaknesses, which cause young girls to faint, and have the hysterics if only a bat passes, or anything as little dangerous, she could not be blamed for doing the like, for the monk gradually grew higher and higher, until at last, in Amelia's imagination, he became of gigantic stature.

But now suddenly the phantom, which had deceived the eyes of our heroine, vanished. She now distinctly recognised the passenger who had last appeared on the steamer, and the deceiving hood which before had appeared so natural, was nothing else than the stranger's long black hair, that as he sat there, bending forward, had covered his countenance almost like a net, so that she could not have taken it for anything else, at a distance, especially as it was so dark.

"If I have been so unfortunate as to frighten you, I beg your pardon, a thousand times," said the stranger, who now stepped into the light.

"No, it was not you that frightened me, it was my own excited fancy," said the maiden, stepping back, as she added as a passing remark, "I did not know that you were one of the party also."

"Well, I have just followed them," he replied, taking leave of her with a passing bow, and stepped into the aisle.

"He looks like a shadow flitting about among the graves," said Amelia to herself. In fact, there was something in the stranger which, in this place, with its dubious light, gave him a ghastly and strange appearance.

"Where have you been so long? Why do you walk alone?" inquired her mother, who had missed her, and had gone to seek for her, and bring her back to the rest of the party.

"Alas, mother, I have behaved like a downright goose," said Amelia, taking her mother's arm: "Did you see the gentleman clothed in a black dress, who came on board this afternoon?"

"Yes, I saw him just now, bowing over the railing which is around the old kings' vaults. He seems to be melancholy, but is nevertheless of an interesting appearance."

"Certainly melancholy, and awfully gloomy, dear mamma, I must confess. But he was certainly not interesting a short time ago, when he took it into his head to crouch into a confessional box, where he almost frightened me to death, for I thought one of the old monks had risen from his grave, to hear the confession of a poor sinner in his last moments."

"How can you be so childish?" said her mother, laughing. "You might easily have thought it was one of the passengers, who wished to examine the interior of one of the confessional boxes. I should like to know where he left his boy in the meantime."

"Ah, he is certainly asleep somewhere," said Amelia, turning around to look again at the once-imagined monk.

As soon as the party had returned to the Thor, Amelia hastened down the staircase to sew on her shoe-string, which had been loosened on her way home. As she was about opening the cabin door, to obtain needle and thread, her attention was attracted by a sound, which resembled the suppressed weeping of a sleeping child.

"Alas! that is certainly the little boy," thought Amelia, and without reflection she opened the door through which the low wailing issued.

There indeed lay the new comer, with a flushed and feverish countenance, seeming to contend with an evil dream. He lay in a state between sleep and wakefulness, and alternately exclaiming "Papa! papa! Diana! Diana!" and uneasily rolled to and fro. The dog sat in a listening position by the boy's feet, and his whole conduct showed he was uneasy concerning his favourite.

When Amelia entered and approached the bedside, the dog looked so wise and knowing, that she could not do otherwise than reward him, by kindly stroking his back. After that, she sat down on the edge of the sofa, and taking the boy's arm, began to lull him into slumber.

"I have had such a bad dream, papa," said the boy, and as he believed himself secure in his father's arms, he went to sleep again.

Amelia remained awhile, to lull him into deeper sleep, completely occupied with the pleasing aspect of the boy's features, which had resumed in his sleep a bloom that at other times was not there. His hair was of a jet black, divided on his forehead, and falling in natural ringlets over his white neck, the same as his father's.

"You sweet little boy!" whispered Amelia, and bended over him to take her leave with a kiss, but it was not an easy matter for her to go; the little fellow had grasped with his hand the ribbon of Amelia's bonnet so strongly, that it was only after several endeavours that she was enabled to loosen his little fingers. Finally she was able to rise, and turned to go back to her own state-room, when all at once her eye met the stranger, who stood on the threshold, suffering his looks to rest with the utmost gratitude upon her. Deeply blushing, Amelia arose. "I heard the little one cry," said she, as if to excuse herself, and went toward the door.

"And you were so kind toward the stranger?" He said no more, but his eyes evinced a deeper emotion than she had thought any eyes could express. When Amelia returned to her father's state-room, she found her mother engaged in preparing some slight refreshments.

"Where have you put the cake, my child!" said Madame de Dressen, busily searching for it.

"The cake!" replied Amelia, growing pale with fright, at the thought that she might have left the basket at home. "Is it not here?" With these words she began to seek anxiously for it in all corners.

"No, I do not find it, although I have searched everywhere for it. Come up stairs, my child, and talk to the first mate. He received the things which were taken to the baggage-room, and it may have been left there."

"O! yes, that will probably be the case." Thus saying, Amelia hastened up to the deck, accosted the first mate, and was about going down with him, when two sun-burnt children from the shore offered her some elegant bouquets of flowers, entreating her to buy some.

Amelia loved flowers, almost to a passion; but unfortunately she had not a farthing in her pocket. She stretched forth her hand for one of the bouquets, and searched with anxious eyes for her father, who not seldom—and especially in the presence of strangers—bestowed such little attentions upon her, which of course were not thought of when they were at home. Unfortunately her father was not above, and with blushing cheeks, and not without a mournful look at the flowers, as well as the children who sold them, Amelia returned the bouquet. She stammered a bashful "Thank you, my child, I do not want any," and hastened with her mother down stairs.

The basket of cakes was soon found, but did not console her mind, from thinking that some of the passengers had not seen her anxiety to own the flowers.

At length the hour of retirement arrived. Madame de Dressen and Amelia threw themselves into one corner of the sofa. On the other the lieutenant-colonel stretched himself out, full-length, as comfortably as possible. After they had yawned, stretched themselves, and complained of the heat, they became silent. When Amelia's regular breathing betokened that she was asleep, the lieutenant-colonel tapped his wife's shoulder with his lead pencil.

"Are you yet awake, Sophia?"

"Yes, my dear; the flies and the heat——"

"Yes, the hangman take them!" interrupted the lieutenant-colonel. "But what do you think of our journey—of the people, I mean?"

"What can I say about it, after such a short time? You seem to be much pleased with the gentlemen you have presented to us."

"Pleased! the hangman take it. They are four old worn-out fellows, who only come out to warm themselves! Annoying people, upon whom I am lavishing my conversation with perfect disgust."

"Why do you not spare yourself this disagreeable matter?"

"Because they belong to noble families; and, nevertheless, aside from their tedious awkwardness, are desirable company. You ought to become accustomed to such society at last, and should not forget, that one is often obliged to injure his own feelings, to cut a figure in the world."

"You have already done much for your system," replied his wife, with a slight sneer, which could not be seen on account of the reigning darkness.

"Yes; I flatter myself to have never missed an occasion," said the lieutenant-colonel, with a self-laudatory tone. "But you may depend upon it, dear Sophia, that without this my talent, we should long ago have sunk to the lower class of nobility. Instead of that, we have thus far kept upon the surface. But to return to the commencement of our conversation—Have you observed the black-haired stranger, whom nobody knows. The fellow does not look very bad, and knows how to behave, as though he had something to support him. He has such a noble bearing, that there must be noble blood flowing in his veins. He is certainly a nobleman; but the only thing that I am surprised at is, that he has no servant with him."

"You have none either, my dear."

"Of course I have not; but I have my wife and my daughter with me, while he is dragging along a child with him which requires nursing. He is assuredly a widower."

"He looks so. Have you not heard what his name is—or is his name not on the passenger-list?"

"Unfortunately I have not had, as yet, a chance to look at it; but to-morrow I will examine the matter thoroughly. We must find out whether he is a man of rank, for that is a principal condition that he can be allowed to remain in our company during the trip."

"Alas! I wish to-morrow had already come," sighed the good woman, fanning herself with her neckerchief.

"This cooling off is very pleasant," said the lieutenant-colonel; "I shall now try to sleep: you may fan me until you see that I have fallen asleep, for these flies and gnats—the beasts, almost devour one."

Without making a reply, his wife arose, and while her thoughts were afar, her hand, like a machine, moved the handkerchief up and down, until the loud snoring of the lieutenant-colonel announced that her lord and husband had fallen asleep. After that Madame de Dressen squeezed herself into her corner of the sofa, to reflect undisturbedly whether she had not met the features of the stranger before.