THE ICE MAIDEN [24]
words possessed a magic power; he offered her his hand, and
she was obliged to follow him. They went out of the house and
stepped downwards, always downwards, and it seemed to Babette as if
she had a weight on her heart which continually grew heavier. She felt
she was committing a sin against Rudy, a sin against God. Suddenly she
found herself forsaken, her clothes torn by the thorns, and her hair
gray; she looked upwards in her agony, and there, on the edge of the
rock, she espied Rudy. She stretched out her arms to him, but she
did not venture to call him or to pray; and had she called him, it
would have been useless, for it was not Rudy, only his hunting coat
and hat hanging on an alpenstock, as the hunters sometimes arrange
them to deceive the chamois. "Oh!" she exclaimed in her agony; "oh,
that I had died on the happiest day of my life, my wedding-day. O my
God, it would have been a mercy and a blessing had Rudy travelled
far away from me, and I had never known him. None know what will
happen in the future." And then, in ungodly despair, she cast
herself down into the deep rocky gulf. The spell was broken; a cry
of terror escaped her, and she awoke.
The dream was over; it had vanished. But she knew she had dreamt
something frightful about the young Englishman, yet months had
passed since she had seen him or even thought of him. Was he still
at Montreux, and should she meet him there on her wedding day? A
slight shadow passed over her pretty mouth as she thought of this, and
she knit her brows; but the smile soon returned to her lip, and joy
sparkled in her eyes, for this was the morning of the day on which she
and Rudy were to be married, and the sun was shining brightly. Rudy
was already in the parlor when she entered it, and they very soon
started for Villeneuve. Both of them were overflowing with
happiness, and the miller was in the best of tempers, laughing and
merry; he was a good, honest soul, and a kind father.
"Now we are masters of the house," said the parlor-cat.
XV. THE CONCLUSION
It was early in the afternoon, and just at dinner-time, when the
three joyous travellers reached Villeneuve. After dinner, the miller
placed himself in the arm-chair, smoked his pipe, and had a little
nap. The bridal pair went arm-in-arm out through the town and along
the high road, at the foot of the wood-covered rocks, and by the deep,
blue lake.
The gray walls, and the heavy clumsy-looking towers of the
gloomy castle of Chillon, were reflected in the clear flood. The
little island, on which grew the three acacias, lay at a short
distance, looking like a bouquet rising from the lake. "How delightful
it must be to live there," said Babette, who again felt the greatest
wish to visit the island; and an opportunity offered to gratify her
wish at once, for on the shore lay a boat, and the rope by which it
was moored could be very easily loosened. They saw no one near, so
they took possession of it without asking permission of any one, and
Rudy could row very well. The oars divided the pliant water like the
fins of a fish- that water which, with all its yielding softness, is
so strong to bear and to carry, so mild and smiling when at rest,
and yet so terrible in its destroying power. A white streak of foam
followed in the wake of the boat, which, in a few minutes, carried
them both to the little island, where they went on shore; but there
was only just room enough for two to dance. Rudy swung Babette round
two or three times; and then, hand-in-hand, they sat down on a
little bench under the drooping acacia-tree, and looked into each
other's eyes, while everything around them glowed in the rays of the
setting sun.
The fir-tree forests on the mountains were covered with a purple
hue like the heather bloom; and where the woods terminated, and the
rocks became prominent, they looked almost transparent in the rich
crimson glow of the evening sky. The surface of the lake
she was obliged to follow him. They went out of the house and
stepped downwards, always downwards, and it seemed to Babette as if
she had a weight on her heart which continually grew heavier. She felt
she was committing a sin against Rudy, a sin against God. Suddenly she
found herself forsaken, her clothes torn by the thorns, and her hair
gray; she looked upwards in her agony, and there, on the edge of the
rock, she espied Rudy. She stretched out her arms to him, but she
did not venture to call him or to pray; and had she called him, it
would have been useless, for it was not Rudy, only his hunting coat
and hat hanging on an alpenstock, as the hunters sometimes arrange
them to deceive the chamois. "Oh!" she exclaimed in her agony; "oh,
that I had died on the happiest day of my life, my wedding-day. O my
God, it would have been a mercy and a blessing had Rudy travelled
far away from me, and I had never known him. None know what will
happen in the future." And then, in ungodly despair, she cast
herself down into the deep rocky gulf. The spell was broken; a cry
of terror escaped her, and she awoke.
The dream was over; it had vanished. But she knew she had dreamt
something frightful about the young Englishman, yet months had
passed since she had seen him or even thought of him. Was he still
at Montreux, and should she meet him there on her wedding day? A
slight shadow passed over her pretty mouth as she thought of this, and
she knit her brows; but the smile soon returned to her lip, and joy
sparkled in her eyes, for this was the morning of the day on which she
and Rudy were to be married, and the sun was shining brightly. Rudy
was already in the parlor when she entered it, and they very soon
started for Villeneuve. Both of them were overflowing with
happiness, and the miller was in the best of tempers, laughing and
merry; he was a good, honest soul, and a kind father.
"Now we are masters of the house," said the parlor-cat.
XV. THE CONCLUSION
It was early in the afternoon, and just at dinner-time, when the
three joyous travellers reached Villeneuve. After dinner, the miller
placed himself in the arm-chair, smoked his pipe, and had a little
nap. The bridal pair went arm-in-arm out through the town and along
the high road, at the foot of the wood-covered rocks, and by the deep,
blue lake.
The gray walls, and the heavy clumsy-looking towers of the
gloomy castle of Chillon, were reflected in the clear flood. The
little island, on which grew the three acacias, lay at a short
distance, looking like a bouquet rising from the lake. "How delightful
it must be to live there," said Babette, who again felt the greatest
wish to visit the island; and an opportunity offered to gratify her
wish at once, for on the shore lay a boat, and the rope by which it
was moored could be very easily loosened. They saw no one near, so
they took possession of it without asking permission of any one, and
Rudy could row very well. The oars divided the pliant water like the
fins of a fish- that water which, with all its yielding softness, is
so strong to bear and to carry, so mild and smiling when at rest,
and yet so terrible in its destroying power. A white streak of foam
followed in the wake of the boat, which, in a few minutes, carried
them both to the little island, where they went on shore; but there
was only just room enough for two to dance. Rudy swung Babette round
two or three times; and then, hand-in-hand, they sat down on a
little bench under the drooping acacia-tree, and looked into each
other's eyes, while everything around them glowed in the rays of the
setting sun.
The fir-tree forests on the mountains were covered with a purple
hue like the heather bloom; and where the woods terminated, and the
rocks became prominent, they looked almost transparent in the rich
crimson glow of the evening sky. The surface of the lake