In Warnicken, the Regierungsrath was again engaged in eager dispute with the Kreisgerichtsrath; his disposition was an unfriendly one. Nothing was heard of Blanden, and ever again the thought arose in old Kalzow that he and his Miranda might have imperilled Eva's good name by their thoughtless encouragement. Even one single such sad, disagreeable thought suffices, especially when people are up in years, to cast a shadow over their whole life. It is not like a poisonous fungus that grows quietly in the shade; it is like a bursting dust-ball which, at the least touch, covers us from head to foot with its deadly contents.

Warnicken had suddenly become wearisome to the Regierungsrath; always the Wolfs-schlucht, and the Fuchs-spitze, and the monotonous sound of the breakers, and the usually bad dinner, and the Liberal Kreisgerichtsrath, who daily became more unbearable. At the same time the intolerable heat; everything was uncomfortable for him, even his flannel jacket, and his big white neck-cloth, and at times even his Miranda.

The latter, too, was not exactly in a roseate temper, and she exposed her majestic side more than usual, especially to those who stood nearest to her throne.

Political questions were now but little discussed with the Kreisgerichtsrath; as regards politics, the Regierungsrath was very reserved; but were there not a hundred other subjects about which they could hold opposite views, and the Regierungsrath now always was of an opposite opinion from every other mortal with whom he commenced a conversation.

It was a sultry summer evening, when Kalzow, with his wife and the Kreisgerichtsrath, sat on the Fuchs-spitze. The sun was inclining to its rest, and cast glowing lights into the waves. Yet it was still so hot that the Regierungsrath laid his straw hat beside him upon the bench, and continually made movements betokening such craving for freedom, as though he would jump out of his cravat, and occasionally even out of his skin.

"To-day there were eighty degrees of heat in the shade," said the Kreisgerichtsrath, as he wiped away the drops of perspiration.

"Thirty degrees, I say thirty degrees," retorted Kalzow, irritatedly.

"Eight-and-twenty degrees RÉaumur," said the Kreisgerichtsrath, with quiet decision.

"RÉaumur! Of course, RÉaumur. What have we to do with Fahrenheit or Celsius?"

"The astronomists measure by Celsius."

"I am no star-gazer, and decline any such inuendoes," said Kalzow, while coughing annoyedly. "Unfortunately, people have enough to do to watch their own feet, so that they may not stumble upon earth."

Miranda sighed, while her knitting needles began to move nervously.

The Kreisgerichtsrath shrugged his shoulders, and drew figures in the sand; he knew well that for his friend he played the part that in sham-fights the appointed enemy does, against whom all manoeuvres are directed. Yet he was not prepared for so vigorous an onslaught as that with which the Regierungsrath surprised him.

"Indeed, it is impossible to bear with you any longer," continued the latter. "You contradict one constantly; do you then, think that it makes intercourse pleasant in such heat? I have put a seal upon politics--I do not allude to that tender theme any more; can one give greater proofs of peaceable intentions? I am contented with everything, with general assemblies, even, for anything that I care, with the French revolution; I allow it all to be discharged over me like torrents of rain, and do not even put up an umbrella before it; but you seek quarrels, you do! Can there be anything more harmless than the lines in a thermometer to which the mercurial column extends its tongue; no, even for that the alarm-drum must be beaten. Quarrelling, everlasting quarrelling, here where one ought to recruit oneself; I can bear it no longer!"

A violent fit of coughing closed this bayonet charge upon his patient friend.

The Kreisgerichtsrath rose with great calmness and said--

"I can give no better proofs of my peaceable intentions than by retiring," and he disappeared upon the footpath that led to the valley.

This retreat did not much improve Kalzow's temper, for he felt it to be his own moral defeat. Much excited, he walked to and fro, and was not disinclined to make the only person who could still be called to account, responsible for all the evil which lay in the air to-day; yet, a glance at her, and the challenging manner in which she handled her knitting needles, proved sufficiently to him that this fort was fully armed and ensured against any surprise, and that in an attack upon it he should be running great danger.

Therefore, he sat down again beside his wife, after he had soothed his internal excitement by several pinches of snuff, and commenced a peaceful conversation.

"What has become of Eva?"

"The girl wanted to read something, and then water the flowers."

"How do you think she is?"

"As usual--quiet, and sometimes in a happier state of mind than formerly."

"She has perfect confidence?"

"So far, she has not uttered a word of doubt."

"Well, then, all will be right! She has Blanden's promise, and I take him to be a man of his word."

"Certainly, at least, we will hope it, although it is a sad experience that even the best of men, whose word at other times is firm as a rock, always waver in love. That is an abandoned territory; there begins the great comedy of life, behind the scenes of which one can never see properly."

"Come, it is hardly so bad."

"Nor married men, dear Kalzow, do I trust entirely; they are the worst kind; but we will draw a veil over that--it is best to do so!"

"But if Blanden even keep his word, supposing, indeed, that he has given it, about which the contract is not yet signed--you know my sister has, it is true, consented that we should adopt her daughter, because, to a certain extent, public opinion demanded it; yet she attached the condition thereto, that her daughter's betrothal should immediately be announced to her, and she be invited to any celebration of it; under any circumstances, she will make the bridegroom's acquaintance as soon as possible."

"We cannot prevent that, dear Kalzow; and, after all, what she requires is reasonable. On such an occasion the unnatural barrier should fall that separates her from her daughter. Certainly, this sister-in-law is like an evil spirit to me; she spoils our social reputation; we have always kept her aloof from her daughter, and only sent her regular reports as to the latter's well-being; Eva herself has never been allowed to write to her; such a total separation was unavoidable."

"But what will Blanden say to that mother?"

"From what one hears, neither had anything wherewith to reproach themselves; he probably knows them; they moved in the same circles for some time."

"That is quite possible! All the same, it will be hard for me to point her out as the girl's mother; nor is it in truth, necessary, she has no longer any right over the girl. Should she, however, come to the betrothal, nothing will remain for us but to raise the veil. But where is Eva? The worst would be if we troubled our heads about matters which, indeed, exist nowhere but in our brains; day after day passes, and Blanden does not return."

While the married couple thus exchanged their anxieties and fears, their looks were suddenly arrested by a boat gliding over the sea.

The Regierungsrath had a perfect right to cough, because his telescope did not deceive him; it was Eva who, instead of reading and watering the flowers in the garden, let herself once again be rocked upon the ocean's waves, with the idiot fisherman's girl.

"A disobedient child," said the RegierungsrÄthin, annoyed; "there is something erratic about her; she does not belie her mother's blood."

"Yet her father, who died early, was an honourable man; he only committed the fault of trying to use a will-o'-the-wisp as a night-light."

"Fie, Kalzow."

"She is my sister, and yet she was not worthy of so good a man as the captain; from her youth upwards she was a strange creature, enthusiastically dreamy, often wild and eager for pleasure. Eva, fortunately, takes more after her father than her mother."

Meanwhile Eva had landed and wandered, singing, up the Fuchs-spitze.

"Naughty girl! You wanted to be taken captive again," her foster-father cried to her, his good humour having gradually been restored during his conversation with Miranda.

"Oh, no, papa! I am already a captive," said Eva, smiling.

"Disobedience merits punishment," interposed her stern mother! "we will leave you at home on our next pleasure party."

"Then Salomon will be thoroughly miserable," retorted Eva, laughing.

"And Herr von Blanden does not come," said the Rath, assuming the air of a judge of assizes. "You both have a little conspiracy between you; but he promised to return soon."

"Do not be uneasy, papa! He has more important business at home than here, but as he pledged his word he is sure to come."

"I suppose the mermaids sang that to you?"

"What do mermaids know of a man's word? But I know that it is firm and unchanging, and that one may sleep quietly beneath its care, as if under angels' wings."

She said this in an elevated voice, and a transfiguring radiancy seemed to pass over her features. Her parents also soon felt calmed by Eva's indomitable trust. The Rath would gladly have directed a few more questions to the girl, but Salomon's arrival interrupted the conversation.

The latter came breathlessly up the hill.

"I know something, FrÄulein Eva, but even I can keep my secrets to myself."

"Then you--"

"Redeem it, as one does in playing at forfeits!"

"I am not inclined to play."

"I believe it! The sun is setting so beautifully, it makes one think--

"But, my dear Salomon," said Eva, "we know our Heine by heart."

Salomon continued to recite unabashedly, and then added--

"Heine pleases me actually better than Schiller; one feels more at ease with him. Everything about Schiller is more solemn, one must appear in full dress, and be led about in nothing but state apartments, where one feels shy of sitting down. With Heine, one enters a cosy drinking party; all sit down in shirt sleeves, and one hastens to pull off one's own coat."

"That would be like playing nine-pins," said Eva.

"Certainly, the poet always meets the Nine; he scoffs at false sentiment, and in life, as in society, there is so much false sentiment; it is just as in the Palais Royal in Paris, where I went last holidays with mamma. The shops with sham diamonds and precious stones are to be found side by side with those full of genuine jewellery, and, at the first glance, one cannot distinguish the imitation. Therefore, our thanks are due to the man who has taught us the true and the false by his scoffing remarks. Even with Schiller, false jewels of sentiment are to be found. Laura at the piano! excuse me. I have seen many a girl sit at the piano, who did not play badly either, but never have I thought when doing so of 'Cocytus' waves of tears,' or of 'the suns which arise from out the giant arms of chaos,' or even the verse, 'Lips, cheeks, burned and quivered.' That is not the way people kiss! I have never noticed anything of the sort. Or even Thecla, who looks upon her lover as a good angel, who would carry her pick-a-back up the mountains! What a picture of bad taste! And we are to rave about that? FrÄulein, will you know my secret now?"

"Not yet, Herr Salomon."

"Then, you see, a great deal of poetical rubbish is talked about these sunsets. After all, it is quite natural, and it is connected with the earth's revolution that the sun seems to set, and its rays break into gay colours through the denser strata of vapour on the horizon. But it is really childish to go into ecstasies about those few bright colours; it is the same pleasure that the soap-bubbles inspire in childish minds; and yet such things are sung in all metres of verse. And there is also an ode, which we had to learn by rote, and begins with the lines--

It is, I believe, by a certain Kosegarten, who bore a very well-known and much promising name, but, alas! was a parson, somewhere near some large waters, whence he drew his poetry. Then comes Heine, and calls the sunset an 'old piece;' capital, and how the scales fall from our eyes. That is the man for me! Do not you rave about 'Lorelei,' too, my FrÄulein? Should you not like to be a 'Lorelei?'"

"Papa would first have to buy me a golden comb."

"And what will you give for my secret?"

"Still nothing, Herr Salomon."

"Well, I am disinterested, my FrÄulein!

But I revenge myself nobly! I know that my communication will cause you pleasure; and, besides, I know that I shall be grieved at your pleasure; I know that I cannot reckon upon the least reward as messenger--and yet--I will make the communication--Herr von Blanden has just arrived."

The effect of the news was, indeed, greater than even Salomon had expected. Rath and RÄthin started up from the bench, with countenances radiant with pleasure! Eva stood as if transfigured with blissful delight in the last gleam of the evening's glow, and folded her hands.

Yes, she even vouchsafed a kindly smile and a word of thanks to the head scholar. The latter had greeted Herr von Blanden immediately upon his arrival, as he drove up to the inn, and informed him where he should find the Kalzow family. Therefore, it was decided to await him up here. Eva's heart beat violently; she did not listen to her parents' remarks, which suddenly spent themselves in Blanden's praise, his punctuality and reliability, still less to Salomon's recitals, which scattered abundant daring allusions and poetical quotations, in order to console himself for the fresh triumphs which his rival celebrated.

"Did I not say that I should give you pleasure?

But I bear a striking resemblance to Cassandra, and wander like her--

It is so charming to be so watched for, greeted with such delight! This Blanden! But one must console oneself--

And still it is melancholy--

Eva would have been best pleased to hasten down the footpath to meet her beloved one, if she had been free to follow her heart's impulses.

Blanden came at last, and she only greeted him with a cordial shake of the hand. The scholar averted his gaze, and looked at the sea that was already playing in the ashen grey tints of dusk; no more verses arose to his mind. The Rath was full of amiability.

"We expected you in vain both yesterday and the previous day; however, the harvest, the harvest! I know what importance that is on large estates; the well-filled barns, the ricks in all the fields; because it is a bountiful year. In Kulmitten you cultivate more wheat; I know that, and in Nehren the soil is more adapted for rye."

"And you are sure to part reluctantly from your castle," added the RÄthin. "No doubt you have a fine orangery, splendid flower beds! That is wanting here. Nature here is somewhat wild! I like order. Hedges of yew--I am passionately fond of them! Have you yew in your park?"

"Everything that you wish, gnÄdige Frau, every kind of indigenous and exotic weeds! But the most beautiful flower I have still to transplant to my park. Herr Rath, Frau RÄthin, may I beg you to grant me a serious conversation at your house?"

"We are at your service, at your service," said the Rath, as he seized his hat quickly, pushed his chin back expectantly into his neck-cloth, and in all his movements evinced eager promptitude. Miranda was also ready for a speedy departure, like a proud frigate that is about to raise its anchor.

Eva stood, her hand pressed upon her heart, and, with Salomon, slowly followed them as they hastened away.

It was rather tranquillising for her when the former deemed this moment to be a favourable one in which to make a declaration of love to her, which she declined with kind decision; it relieved the moment's state of tension.

Salomon, having received this rebuff, did not think he ought to linger longer in Eva's vicinity. He bade her a cold farewell and sped back to the Fuchs-spitze.

Below, in the modest reception-room, in which the smoky beams were pasted over with the cheapest sheets of pictures of Neu-Ruppin, Blanden spoke the decisive word. He proposed for Eva's hand, he promised to make her happy, he explained that his circumstances permitted him to relinquish any dowry, that he did not need to enquire as to her fortune, that in herself he found the greatest treasure, the greatest riches with which he would now adorn his life.

Bright tears of joy glistened in the old Rath's eyes, and Miranda also wept. It was a strange scene; who had ever seen the RegierungsrÄthin Kalzow, that stony Niobe, weep? But both loved Eva with all their hearts, even although in their own way, and now to be able to greet her as a rich, aristocratic mistress of a castle, was indeed delightful.

After having given his consent, the Rath said, hesitatingly, "I am too happy to be able to welcome you as my future son-in-law; although only my consent is needed, yet I must inform you that we are merely the girl's adopted parents. Her father is dead, her mother still lives upon a small estate that her husband, a captain, left to her; she is my sister; she will not fail to be present at her daughter's wedding or betrothal."

"She will be welcome to us," said Blanden; "I repeat, that it does not trouble me whether, from you or her real mother, Eva has any prospects of inheritance. Are not all my possessions hers, so soon as the union is sealed, and now I pray you summon Eva, and give us your blessing."

Evidently Eva's family was wearisome to Blanden; all information about them was void of interest for him, he hoped so soon as possible to deliver her from this irksome connection. Her mother was Kalzow's sister. He was not very eager to make her acquaintance. The dreary atmosphere of this narrow-minded, prosaic life, should no longer oppress his Eva, and even the thought of two mothers-in-law did not disturb him farther; he had confidence in his power to hold as much aloof from the one as from the other.

Eva appeared: she was full of joy and happiness--was it not only what she had expected? Mother Miranda gazed with certain pride upon her child; she began already to treat the future aristocratic lady with certain consideration, and to clothe her faultfinding in a pleasant garb. She suddenly looked upon Eva with totally different eyes; she had formerly never thought that she should feel any respect for this little girl.

Blanden folded Eva closely and impetuously to his heart, he said silently to himself: "Now I begin a new life; now I place a boundary and sign-stone to my past; the future of my whole life depends upon this moment! May it smile as kindly upon me as do the wonderful eyes of this glorious girl!" But then he said in joyful excitement--"As I would proclaim my happiness to the world, so do I feel the need for others to rejoice with me! We will celebrate our betrothal in the largest, most extensive circle; let that be my care, Herr Rath! To arrange the solemnization of the marriage according to the country's custom, be yours; in that I will not interfere with you, but the betrothal celebration confide to me."

"But it will be difficult for you, here in Warnicken," began the RÄthin.

"It is impossible here," interrupted Blanden. "I must beg you all to migrate to Neukuhren for a few days. It possesses a Kursaal, and merry company; many of my friends are there. I will make arrangements for an entertainment in that place, and all Kuhren shall be invited."

"Shall we not rather enjoy our happiness alone?" asked Eva, pressing closely to her lover.

"I am proud of you, and will show all the world that I am so; you must let me have my own way in this matter."

The entertainment at Neukuhren flattered her parent's pride; they gave their consent, and undertook to take lodgings there a few days later, so as to assist in his preparations. Of course, Blanden said, all the visitors staying at Warnicken were included in the invitation; neither the Kriesgerichtsrath nor Salomon, nor Minna with her envious mother were to be omitted.

The particular evening was decided upon, everything planned. Miranda possessed courage sufficient not to dread the troubles of a migration, and never had Rath Kalzow's pipe seemed so enjoyable to him as on that evening.

But Blanden wished to enjoy the sanctity of those hours alone with Eva; they granted themselves leave of absence, and walked towards the sea. The idiot ocean-maiden lay on the sand beside her boat, and stared fixedly at the east, where the moon was just rising deeply red out of the waters; she did not look unlike a seal.

"KÄthe, we wish to row on the sea," Blanden called to her. Quickly as lightning the girl arose, kissed his hand, sprang into the boat and seized the oar.

Soon the lovers were rocking upon the slightly disturbed waters.

KÄthe kept good time with her oars, but glared as if amazed when Blanden and Eva exchanged kisses and embraces. On the first occasion she even let the oars drop while she folded her hands.

The moon meanwhile had risen entirely, and silvered the wide expanse of the East Sea, the bare cliffs, the green ravines, but a cold wind swept from the north. The waves rose higher, the boat began to roll. Blanden pressed his beloved one firmly to himself, to protect her from the raw north wind; she looked into his eyes, and so avoided the sight of the rolling gunwales, and at the same time the discomfort of dizziness.

Above brightly sparkled the Polar star, Cassiopea, the Milky-way; but it seemed as though, by the boat's uncertain motion, even the heavenly stars began to rock.

It was a disagreeable voyage. Eva shivered; Blanden could not help thinking of the excursions in boats on Lago Maggiore, of the warm breath that glided over the magic lake, of the enchanting delight of a southern night; but the young life that was pressed so trustingly to his side had given itself up for ever to him; how differently his heart was stirred by it from what it was by that mysterious beauty who only broke one or two jewels out of her crown for him.

"This is yours, confided to your protection for a whole life-time!" With that thought he replied to the questions which seemed to be directed to his heart from Eva's widely-opened, gazelle-like eyes.

Louder became the roaring of the distant waves; KÄthe, without waiting for orders, guided the boat back to the shore. And the billows, rearing themselves up ever higher, came rolling on like serpents behind the young betrothed couple, tossing the skiff up and down. Eva's blooming features and cheeks paled, dizziness and discomfort took possession of her; it was time that the boat should reach the shore. Blanden was obliged to exert all his strength in assisting KÄthe to land.

"The storm has put our young love to the test," said Blanden, "but we hold to one another in trouble and in joy, and defy danger."

Which Eva confirmed with a heartfelt kiss and fervent embrace.

The ocean-maiden, however, again lay upon the strand; the tempest raged above her; her red shawl fluttered in the wind; the waves must wet her feet.

Of what was she thinking?

Idiot KÄthe loved Blanden and hated her rival.