"I am Karl Hoffman, as surely as the sun shines, mademoiselle. Do not wound me by a doubt," he said, eagerly.

"And nothing more?"

She smiled as she spoke, and glanced at his darkened skin with a shake of the head.

"I dare not answer that."

"No matter; I hate t.i.tles, and value people for their own worth, not for their rank."

Helen spoke impulsively, and, as if carried away by her words and manner, Hoffman caught her hand and pressed his lips to it ardently, dropped it, and was gone, as if fearing to trust himself a moment longer.

Helen stood where he left her, thinking, with a shy glance from her hand to the spot where he had stood,--

"It _is_ pleasant to have one's hand kissed, as Amy said. Poor Karl, his fate is almost as hard as Casimer's."

Some subtile power seemed to make the four young people shun one another carefully, though all longed to be together. The major appeared to share the secret disquiet that made the rest roam listlessly about, till little Roserl came to invite them to a _fete_ in honor of the vintage. All were glad to go, hoping in the novelty and excitement to recover their composure.

The vineyard sloped up from the chateau, and on the hillside was a small plateau of level sward, shadowed by a venerable oak now hung with garlands, while underneath danced the chateau servants with their families, to the music of a pipe played by little Friedel. As the gentlefolk approached, the revel stopped, but the major, who was in an antic mood and disposed to be gracious, bade Friedel play on, and as Mrs. c.u.mberland refused his hand with a glance at her weeds, the major turned to the Count's buxom housekeeper, and besought her to waltz with him. She a.s.sented, and away they went as nimbly as the best. Amy laughed, but stopped to blush, as Casimer came up with an imploring glance, and whispered,--

"Is it possible that I may enjoy one divine waltz with you before I go?"

Amy gave him her hand with a glad a.s.sent, and Helen was left alone.

Every one was dancing but herself and Hoffman, who stood near by, apparently unconscious of the fact. He glanced covertly at her, and saw that she was beating time with foot and hand, that her eyes shone, her lips smiled. He seemed to take courage at this, for, walking straight up to her, he said, as coolly as if a crown-prince,--

"Mademoiselle, may I have the honor?"

A flash of surprise pa.s.sed over her face, but there was no anger, pride, or hesitation in her manner, as she leaned toward him with a quiet "Thanks, monsieur."

A look of triumph was in his eyes as he swept her away to dance, as she had never danced before, for a German waltz is full of life and spirit, wonderfully captivating to English girls, and German gentlemen make it a memorable experience when they please. As they circled round the rustic ball-room, Hoffman never took his eyes off Helen's, and, as if fascinated, she looked up at him, half conscious that he was reading her heart as she read his. He said not a word, but his face grew very tender, very beautiful in her sight, as she forgot everything except that he had saved her life and she loved him. When they paused, she was breathless and pale; he also; and seating her he went away to bring her a gla.s.s of wine. As her dizzy eyes grew clear, she saw a little case at her feet, and taking it up, opened it. A worn paper, containing some faded forget-me-nots and these words, fell out,--

"Gathered where Helen sat on the night of August 10th."

There was just time to restore its contents to the case, when Hoffman returned, saw it, and looked intensely annoyed as he asked, quickly,--

"Did you read the name on it?"

"I saw only the flowers;" and Helen colored beautifully as she spoke.

"And read _them_?" he asked, with a look she could not meet.

She was spared an answer, for just then a lad came up, saying, as he offered a note,--

"Monsieur Hoffman, madame, at the hotel, sends you this, and begs you to come at once."

As he impatiently opened it, the wind blew the paper into Helen's lap.

She restored it, and in the act, her quick eye caught the signature, "Thine ever, Ludmilla."

A slight shadow pa.s.sed over her face, leaving it very cold and quiet.

Hoffman saw the change, and smiled, as if well pleased, but a.s.suming suddenly his usual manner, said deferentially,--

"Will mademoiselle permit me to visit my friend for an hour?--she is expecting me."

"Go, then, we do not need you," was the brief reply, in a careless tone, as if his absence was a thing of no interest to any one.

"Thanks; I shall not be long away;" and giving her a glance that made her turn scarlet with anger at its undisguised admiration, he walked away, humming gayly to himself Goethe's lines,--

"Maiden's heart and city's wall Were made to yield, were made to fall; When we've held them each their day, Soldier-like we march away."

IX

"S.P." AND THE BARON

Dinner was over, and the _salon_ deserted by all but the two young ladies, who sat apart, apparently absorbed in novels, while each was privately longing for somebody to come, and with the charming inconsistency of the fair s.e.x, planning to fly if certain somebodies _did_ appear.

Steps approached; both buried themselves in their books; both held their breath and felt their hearts flutter as they never had done before at the step of mortal man. The door opened; neither looked up, yet each was conscious of mingled disappointment and relief when the major said, in a grave tone, "Girls, I've something to tell you."

"We know what it is, sir," returned Helen, coolly.

"I beg your pardon, but you don't, my dear, as I will prove in five minutes, if you will give me your attention."

The major looked as if braced up to some momentous undertaking; and planting himself before the two young ladies, dashed bravely into the subject.

"Girls, I've played a bold game, but I've won it, and will take the consequences."

"They will fall heaviest on you, uncle," said Helen, thinking he was about to declare his love for the widow.

The major laughed, shrugged his shoulders, and answered, stoutly,--

"I'll bear them; but you are quite wrong, my dear, in your surmises, as you will soon see. Helen is my ward, and accountable to me alone.

Amy's mother gave her into my charge, and won't reproach me for anything that has pa.s.sed when I explain matters. As to the lads they must take care of themselves."

Suddenly both girls colored, fluttered, and became intensely interested. The major's eyes twinkled as he a.s.sumed a perfectly impa.s.sive expression, and rapidly delivered himself of the following thunderbolt,--

"Girls, you have been deceived, and the young men you love are impostors."

"I thought so," muttered Helen, grimly.

"Oh, uncle, don't, don't say that!" cried Amy, despairingly.

"It's true, my dears; and the worst of it is, I knew the truth all the time. Now, don't have hysterics, but listen and enjoy the joke as I do. At Coblentz, when you sat in the balcony, two young men overheard Amy sigh for adventures, and Helen advise making a romance out of the gloves one of the lads had dropped. They had seen you by day; both admired you, and being idle, gay young fellows, they resolved to devote their vacation to gratifying your wishes and enjoying themselves. We met at the Fortress; I knew one of them, and liked the other immensely; so when they confided their scheme to me I agreed to help them carry it out, as I had perfect confidence in both, and thought a little adventure or two would do you good."

"Uncle, you were mad," said Helen; and Amy added, tragically,--

"You don't know what trouble has come of it."

"Perhaps I was; that remains to be proved. I do know everything, and fail to see any trouble, so don't cry, little girl," briskly replied the inexplicable major. "Well, we had a merry time planning our prank.

One of the lads insisted on playing courier, though I objected. He'd done it before, liked the part, and would have his way. The other couldn't decide, being younger and more in love; so we left him to come into the comedy when he was ready. Karl did capitally, as you will allow; and I am much attached to him, for in all respects he has been true to his word. He began at Coblentz; the other, after doing the mysterious at Heidelberg, appeared as an exile, and made quick work with the prejudices of my well-beloved nieces--hey, Amy?"