All was again still. The ceiling of their sleeping room had given way, so that the door could no longer be opened. After the first moment of alarm, Lenz thanked G.o.d that his wife had a presentiment in her sleep of what had happened, and left the room with her child; and for their comfort he told them that their sleeping room was a new building, unconnected with the other part of the house; and that he had no fear of the stout crossbeams of the old house not standing fast and untouched. It did seem to him, however--only he took care not to say this--that the walls of the room next the sleeping one bent inwards; but this was merely a delusion, caused by the flickering, dim, blue light.

A long silent pause ensued; no sound was heard except when a c.o.c.k was heard crowing in the distance, or when Buble barked and the raven croaked.

"This is an actual Noah's ark," said Petrowitsch; and Lenz replied:--

"Whether the issue of this is life or death, we are equally saved from the deluge caused by sin."

Annele placed her hand in his.

"If I had only my pipe; it is so stupid in you not to smoke, Lenz,"

said Petrowitsch, in a complaining voice. The thoughts of his collection of pipes at home, must have reminded him of his fireproof strongbox, for he continued:--"I tell you fairly, that even if we are saved, you need not expect any money from me--not a single dollar."

"We shall not want it then," said Lenz; and Annele asked in her clear voice:--

"Do you know who will not believe you?"

"You?"

"No! the world will never believe it; if you were to swear it a hundred times over, no man will credit, that he who shared our deadly peril, will not share his life with us henceforth. The world will in future give us credit for your sake, and make us rich if we like."

"You are as shrewd and mischievous as ever," said Petrowitsch; "I thought all your gay gibes were at an end for ever."

"I am thankful they are not," cried Lenz; "Annele, keep up your lively spirits; if G.o.d rescues us from this peril, be honest and merry, as Pilgrim says."

Annele threw her arms round Lenz's neck, and kissed him affectionately.

All the three suddenly felt that they had become as cheerful as if all danger were past, and yet, at this moment, it was greater than ever.

They would none of them point it out to the others, but yet they saw with awe and fear, that the walls were trembling, and the cross beams sinking.

Annele and Lenz held each other in a close embrace:--

"Let us die thus, and shelter the child by our bodies," cried Annele.

"Farewell, life! Lord G.o.d, save our child!"

"Hark! there is a hollow sound; help is at hand! we are saved! we are saved!"

CHAPTER x.x.xIX.

SAVED.

"I hear two distinct knocks following each other," cried Lenz; "I will give a signal in answer; I will set the clocks all playing."

He did so, but the confusion of sounds quite stupefied him; even at this moment of deadly anguish, the discord was insupportable to him. In his excitement, he had injured the mechanism of the largest musical clock, which went to his heart.

Again they held their breath and listened eagerly, but all was still.

"I rejoiced too soon," said Petrowitsch, his teeth chattering from excitement, "we are still nearer death than life."

Again distinct knocks were heard, and Petrowitsch complained that the hammering seemed to knock his head, and that every blow went through his brain.

Lenz could not have set the clocks properly, for suddenly one of them began to play the air of the grand Hallelujah, and Lenz sang with it:--"Hallelujah! Praise G.o.d, the Lord!"

Annele sang with him, placing one hand on Lenz's shoulder, and the other on the head of her child, and up above a voice shouted--"Hallelujah! Hallelujah!"

"Pilgrim! my dearest of all friends!" cried Lenz, in a voice that was heartrending.

The door of the room was broken in with a hatchet.

"Are you all still alive?" cried Pilgrim.

"Praise and thanks be to the Lord! we are--all of us."

Pilgrim first hugged Petrowitsch, whom he took for Lenz, and the old man kissed him on both cheeks, Russian fashion.

Immediately after Pilgrim, the Techniker appeared, followed by Faller, Don Bastian, and all the members of the Choral Society.

"Is my boy all right?" asked Lenz.

"Indeed he is, I left him in my house," said Don Bastian.

By this time the snow was shovelled away from the window.

"The sun! the sun! I see the sun once more!" cried Annele, sinking on her knees.

The musical clock continued playing the Hallelujah, the Schoolmaster joined, and the whole of the Choral Society sung with him in full loud tones. It seemed as if an impetus had been given to the ma.s.s of snow by the powerful chorus, for the avalanche rolled away from the front of the house down into the valley.

The house stood free.

The door had remained open, and the moment the windows were also thrown up, the raven shot away into the sky, over the heads of all the a.s.sembled people.

"The bird is off," cried the child.

Outside, however, a raven had been long wheeling about, waiting for its mate; and now they flew along together, first high into the air, and then dipping down in circles far away over the valley.

The first woman who came up to Annele, was Ernestine, her cousin, who had heard of the sad catastrophe, and also of the death of the Landlady, Annele's mother, and had hurried to Annele in the hope of comforting her; she knelt down beside her; Lenz was leaning on Pilgrim.

Petrowitsch was becoming very indignant, that n.o.body took any charge of him, when luckily the Techniker came up to him just in time, wishing him joy of his providential escape. "So far so good," thought the old man; "this is the only well bred man of the whole band." Pilgrim too was very kind, and said aloud: "I beg your pardon for having hugged you so tight; I took you for Lenz: pray shake hands with me."

Petrowitsch gave him his hand instantly.

"I found a piece of your mother's writing in the snow," said Faller in a hoa.r.s.e voice; "the words are almost effaced, but you can still see--'This plant is called Edelweiss--Marie Lenz.'"

"That paper is mine!" exclaimed Annele, starting to her feet. All looked at her in astonishment, and Ernestine screamed out:--"Annele, Annele! Look at her for G.o.d's sake! her hair is as white as snow!"

Annele went to the gla.s.s and uttered a cry of horror, and, clasping her hands over her head, she cried:--"An old woman, an old woman!" and sunk into Lenz's arms; after a time she rose sobbing, dried her tears, and whispered to Lenz: "This is my Edelweiss, grown under the snow."