XXII HOW ALBRECHT RODE HOME.

Previous

Mighty was the struggle in the mind of Albrecht as he rode swiftly through the forest when he had left Herr Frederich in the wood. His good steed of his own instinct took the way back toward the castle, and strained every sinew that he might the sooner come thither, for that his master sharply spurred him on. Albrecht had only the thought that it behooved him to put all the distance he might compass between his angry heart and the temptation from which he fled, and he heeded not whither he rode. The falling leaves of the beech trees, yellow as topaz, rustled downward in bright showers as he sped; the pitchy cones of the pines, glistening with unctuous drops, fell now and then with a dull thud upon the soft carpet of brown needles beneath his horse's feet; the squirrels chattered indignantly at his intrusion upon their wild and quiet domain; and now and then some wood-bird flew startled from the thicket, oftentimes so close as almost to touch him.

The cheeks of the knight burned with a fever which the wind of the autumn afternoon, cool though it was and loaded with refreshing balsamic scents, could not allay. His heart beat hotly with rage and love and hatred and jealousy, until its fierce throbbing seemed wellnigh to choke him. Through a rift in the trees he caught a glimpse of the towers of Rittenberg; and he recalled the sight of them which he had when he first came hither, and how Herr Frederich had pointed them out to him, saying with his smile which now Albrecht so loathed:

"Now I will ride homeward, and await tidings of the speeding of your wooing. Yonder is the castle, and there shall you find both bride and soul!"

The memory surged over the mind of Albrecht like a bitter wave of the northern sea, black and stinging with its icy cold. He struck his clenched hand against his breast, and a groan escaped from his lips.

"It were better never to have had a soul!" he murmured.

A hollow laugh from unseen lips answered him. He looked around, suddenly checking his horse with a wrench of the bridle which wellnigh threw the good steed upon its haunches. He was silent an instant, as if he waited for some one to call out in mockery. There was no sound save the panting of his steed, the murmur of the soft wind in the tree-tops, and the distant hoarse cry of a heron scared by the fowler and fleeing toward the deeper recesses of the forest.

Albrecht put his hand upon his forehead like a man who awakens.

"I know ye, kobold crew!" he cried. "Ye shall not conquer. I defy ye, for I have a soul."

Then again he struck the spurs into the horse's flanks and flew onward toward Rittenberg. The dread that Erna might indeed be lost forever beset him like a flame, and he did not pause even on the steep below the castle gate. As if urged on by the furies he flew up the hill, and dashed into the courtyard spattered with foam from his horse's bridle.

He threw his rein to a servitor, and hastened to his chamber. He dashed his cap, its heron-plume torn and ragged from his wild ride through the wood, upon the rush-strewn floor, and with great strides he began to pace to and fro. He was confused by the emotions with which he struggled. Never in the months since he became a man had so fierce a rush of contending passions swept through his mind, and he was dizzied by their force. Below in the courtyard he heard light laughter, and a snatch of song which one of his men-at-arms had taught some serving-wench; and the sounds carried him back to the wild, free life of the forest. For a moment it seemed to him that he would gladly give up all that he had won could he but be once more the gay, soulless Albrecht who had come to Rittenberg; so strong was the rush of the old memory, the desire for the old lawless, jocund kobold life, that he was ready to curse the day that brought him to the castle and gave him a human bride. Yet the thought of Erna and the passionate love for her which filled his heart were too strong to be overcome, even by the swelling disquiet of his soul. He could not yet think first of the high spiritual blessings which the gift of a soul made possible to him, since ever the image of his bride rose before his mind as the chief desire of his life.

So long did Albrecht wrestle with the temptations which raged within him like ravening wolves, that the dusk began to rise from the forest to the height where the castle stood, as a night-mist rises from beneath. He thought of the wood-creatures who had mocked at his pain, and full well did he know how fain were they to do his bidding did he charge them to waylay Count Stephen in the forest and do him harm. Were it not madness to let all the instincts of his whole life go because of the fetters which were laid upon him by this thing which was so wondrously within him, and which had changed him from the most blithe and most bold of all the kobolds of the forest to the tame thing that dared not avenge himself upon the knight who would steal from him the love of his wife? The rushes were crushed and ground into dust beneath his heel as he strode to and fro, and the great drops stood upon his forehead.

Suddenly in the gathering dusk he stood still, as does a knight who turns at last upon his enemies and stands at bay, bidding them defiance. All the might of his soul did he call up to aid him in the conflict with the passions and temptations which beset him. There came into his splendid face a look of boldness, of confidence, yet too of horror, as of one who at last sees his foes for what they in truth are. A moment he stood motionless; then with firm step and resolute mien he went down the long corridor, which echoed to his tread, and descended the private stairway which led to the castle chapel. There before the altar he bowed himself in prayer.

Half an hour later, as Albrecht, calm and firm once more, was returning to his chamber, he encountered Erna in the corridor. She had been to his chamber to seek him, on her return from the hunt. The attendants had stared open-mouthed when she rode into the courtyard unattended, but she had given them no heed. She longed to fling herself into the arms of her husband, that he might shield her from the danger and the temptation which lay about her; but when she found his chamber vacant, suddenly she recalled seeing Albrecht in the forest, riding with Herr von Zimmern like an evil spirit behind him, and the thought brought with it a great fear of what he might have seen. At that moment she heard his step in the corridor approaching her. Her first impulse was to hide like a guilty thing; then she remembered that she was not guilty. She saw Albrecht standing on the threshold as if he were an angel of light. His splendid strength seemed to her that of a god. She ran to him and flung herself, sobbing wildly, into his arms.

It had seemed to Albrecht in the cool and holy quiet of the chapel, that he had conquered passion and come to desire spiritual good even above the love of this beautiful woman who now flung herself into his embrace, weeping so sore; but now that he held her fast he thought again of the folk in the wood, and how speedily they would rid him of his rival did he but bid them. Even were they in league with Herr Frederich, as well might be, they would obey him and do his will. He strained Erna to his bosom in a strong and jealous clasp; then, as a wave returns that has swept down the sea-beach, came again his will to conquer evil and to beat down this temptation. When in a moment he spoke there was in his voice no trace of the feelings which stormed within him.

"What hath affrighted thee, sweetheart?" he said, kissing her fondly.

She had clung to him, hiding her face, and feeling that his strong arms could protect her from the world; that now was all harm put away and all evil trodden down. Then when he spoke, it seemed to her, all unwrought and excited as she was, that his voice, though soothing and compassionate, was that of one who is no more cumbered by troubles such as hers. He was to her like one who is removed from passion, and the turmoil of a strife such as that which tossed her spirit, by the width of half the wide sky. He was so calm, so kind; he soothed her like a tired child when, forsooth, her soul hungered and thirsted to be comforted with the apples and flagons of love. She knew not for what she yearned, but she did not find it in his embrace, albeit he was full tender and fond.

Albrecht saw that she strove with herself that she might recover her calmness. She freed herself from his embrace, and stood wiping her tears, and calming herself in woman's wise.

"It is only that thou hast wed a foolish and timorous wife," she answered him; "I lost the hunt and rode home alone. Methought I heard voices in the forest, and it hath unnerved me."

Albrecht changed color. What peril from the wood-folk might not Erna have escaped! He started forward to take her again in his arms, but she turned away with a smile.

"Belike it was nothing but my own wild fancy," she said. "Indeed, now that once again I am safe at Rittenberg I know not if I heard aught. I cannot have left the hunt more than half an hour agone. I did but turn aside in the beech wood near the ford to follow a bird-cry for a little, and I lost my way thereby."

She cast down her eyes, for in truth as she thus put by his question with a feigned excuse she could not meet his gaze; and Albrecht, remembering what had been said to him in the forest concerning the estrangement of her affections, thrilled with a keen pang. She left him, and passed down the corridor toward her chamber; and he stood and watched her like one who seeth his dearest hope flee away before his face.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page