Rudy wet to the skin, trembled from cold and his ring had disappeared, his engagement ring, which Babette had given him. He tried to fire off his rifle which lay near him in the snow but it missed. Humid clouds lay in the clefts like firm ma.s.ses of snow and Vertigo watched for her powerless prey; beneath him in the deep chasm it sounded as if a block of the rock was rolling down and was endeavouring to crush and tear up all that met it in its fall.

In the mill sat Babette and wept; Rudy had not been there for six days; he who had been so wrong; he who must beg her forgiveness, because she loved him with her whole heart.

XIII.

IN THE MILLER'S HOUSE.

"What confusion!" said the parlour-cat to the kitchen-cat.

"Now all is wrong between Rudy and Babette. She sits and weeps and he thinks no longer on her, I suppose.

"I cannot bear it!" said the kitchen-cat.

"Nor I," said the parlour-cat, "but I shall not worry myself any longer about it! Babette can take the red-whiskered one for a dear one, but he has not been here either, since he tried to get on the roof!"

Within and without, the evil powers ruled, and Rudy knew this, and reflected upon what had taken place both around and within him, whilst upon the mountain. Were those faces, or was all a feverish dream? He had never known fever or sickness before. Whilst he condemned Babette, he also condemned himself. He thought of the wild, wicked feelings which had lately possessed him. Could he confess everything to Babette? Every thought, which in the hour of temptation might have become a reality? He had lost her ring and by this loss had she won him back. Could she confess to him? It seemed as if his heart would break when he thought of her; so many recollections pa.s.sed through his soul. He saw her a lively, laughing, petulant child; many a loving word, which she had said to him in the fullness of her heart, shot like a sunbeam through his breast and soon all there was sunshine for Babette.

She must be able to confess to him and she should do so.

He came to the mill, he came to confession; and this commenced with a kiss, and ended with the fact that Rudy was the sinner; his great fault was, that he had doubted Babette's fidelity; yes, that was indeed atrocious in him! Such mistrust, such violence could bring them both into misfortune! Yes, most surely! Thereupon Babette preached him a little sermon, which much diverted her and became her charmingly; in one article Rudy was quite right; the G.o.d-mother's relation was a jackanapes! She should burn the book that he had given her, and not possess the slightest object which could remind her of him.

"Now it is all arranged," said the parlour-cat, "Rudy is here again, they understand each other and that is a great happiness!"

"Last night," said the kitchen-cat, "I heard the rats say that the greatest happiness was to eat tallow candles, and to have abundance of tainted meat. Now who must one believe, the rats or the lovers?"

"Neither of them," said the parlour-cat, "that is the surest way!"

The greatest happiness for Rudy and Babette was drawing near; they were awaiting, so they said, their happiest day, their wedding day.

But the wedding was not to be in the church of Bex, nor in the miller's house; the G.o.d-mother wished it to be solemnized near her, and the marriage ceremony was to take place in the beautiful little church of Montreux. The miller insisted that her desire should be fulfilled; he alone knew what the G.o.d-mother intended for the young couple; they were to receive a bridal present from her, which was well worth so slight a concession. The day was appointed. They were to leave for Villeneuve, in time to arrive at Montreux early in the morning, and so enable the G.o.d-mother's daughters to dress the bride.

"Then I suppose there will be a wedding here in the house, on the following day," said the parlour-cat, "otherwise, I would not give a single mew for the whole thing!"

"There will be a feast here," said the kitchen-cat, "the ducks are slain, the pigeons necks wrung, and a whole deer hangs on the wall. My teeth itch just with looking on! To-morrow the journey commences!"

Yes, to-morrow! Rudy and Babette sat together for the last time in the mill.

Without was the alpine glow; the evening bells pealed; the daughters of the Sun sang: "What is for the best will take place!"

XIV.

THE VISIONS OF THE NIGHT.

The sun had gone down; the clouds lowered themselves into the Rhone valley--between the high mountains; the wind blew from the south over the mountains--an African wind, a Fohn,--which tore the clouds asunder. When the wind had pa.s.sed, all was still for an instant; the parted clouds hung in fantastic forms between the forest-grown mountains. Over the hastening Rhone, their shapes resembled sea-monsters of the primeval world, soaring eagles of the air and leaping frogs of the ditches--they seemed to sink into the rapid stream and to sail on the river, yet they still floated in the air.

The stream carried away a pine tree, torn up by the roots; and the water sent whirlpools ahead; this was Vertigo, with her attendants, and they danced in circles on the foaming stream. The moon shone on the snow of the mountain-peaks; it lighted up the dark forest and the singular white clouds; the peasants of the mountain, saw through their window panes, the nightly apparitions and the spirits of the powers of nature, as they sailed before the Ice-Maiden. She came from her glacier castle, she sat in a frail bark, a felled fir-tree; the water of the glaciers carried her up the stream out to the main sea.

"The wedding guests are coming!" was whizzed and sung in the air and in the water.

Visions without and visions within!

Babette dreamt a wonderful dream.

It appeared to her, as though she was married to Rudy, and had been so for many years. He had gone chamois hunting and as she sat at home, the young Englishman with the golden whiskers was beside her; his eyes were fiery, his words seemed endowed with magical power; he reached her his hand and she was obliged to follow him.

They flew from home. Steadily downwards.

A weight lay upon her heart and it grew ever heavier. It was a sin against Rudy, a sin against G.o.d; suddenly she stood forsaken. Her clothes were torn by the thorns; her hair had grown grey; she looked up in her sorrow and she saw Rudy on the edge of the rock. She stretched her arms towards him, but she ventured neither to call, nor to implore him; but she soon saw that it was not he himself, only his hunting coat and hat, which were hanging on his alpine staff, as the hunters are accustomed to place them, in order to deceive the chamois!

Babette moaned in boundless anguish:

"Ah! would that I had died on my wedding day, my happiest day! Oh! my heavenly Father! That would have been a mercy, a life's happiness!

Then we would have obtained, the best, that could have happened to us!

No one knows his future!" In her impious sorrow, she threw herself down the steep precipice. It seemed as if a string broke, and a sorrowful tone resounded.

Babette awoke--the dream was at an end and obliterated; but she knew that she had dreamt of something terrible, and of the young Englishman, whom she had neither seen, nor thought of, for many months. Was he perhaps in Montreux? Should she see him at her wedding? A slight shadow flitted over her delicate mouth, her brow contracted; but her smile soon returned; her eyes sparkled again; the sun shone so beautifully without, and to-morrow, yes to-morrow was her and Rudy's wedding day.

Rudy had already arrived, when she came down stairs, and they soon left for Villeneuve. They were so happy, the two, and the miller also; he laughed and was radiant with joy; he was a good father, an honest soul.

"Now we are the masters of the house!" said the parlour-cat.

XV.

CONCLUSION.

It was not yet night, when the three joyous people reached Villeneuve and took their dinner. The miller seated himself in an arm-chair with his pipe and took a little nap. The betrothed went out of the town arm in arm, out on the carriage way, under the bush-grown rocks, to the deep bluish-green lake. Sombre Chillon, with its grey walls and heavy towers, mirrored itself in the clear water; but still nearer lay the little island, with its three acacias, and it looked like a bouquet on the lake.

"How charming it must be there!" said Babette; she felt again the greatest desire to visit it, and this wish could be immediately fulfilled; for a boat lay on the sh.o.r.e and the rope which fastened it, was easy to untie. As no one was visible, from whom they could ask permission, they took the boat without hesitation, for Rudy could row well. The oars skimmed like the fins of a fish, over the pliant water, which is so yielding and still so strong; which is all back to carry, but all mouth to engulph; which smiles--yes, is gentleness itself, and still awakens terror--and is so powerful in destroying. The rapid current soon brought the boat to the island; they stepped on land.

There was just room enough for the two to dance.

Rudy swung Babette three times around, and then they seated themselves on the little bench, under the acacias, looked into each other's eyes, held each other by the hand, and everything around them shone in the splendour of the setting sun. The forests of fir-trees on the mountains became of a pinkish lilac aspect, the colour of blooming heath, and where the bare rocks were apparent, they glowed as if they were transparent. The clouds in the sky were radiant with a red glow; the whole lake was like a fresh flaming rose leaf. As the shadows arose to the snow-covered mountains of Savoy, they became dark blue, but the uppermost peak seemed like red lava and pointed out for a moment, the whole range of mountains, whose ma.s.ses arose glowing from the bosom of the earth.

It seemed to Rudy and Babette, that they had never seen such an alpine glow. The snow-covered Dent-du-Midi, had a l.u.s.tre like the full moon, when it rises to the horizon.

"So much beauty, so much happiness!" they both said.

"Earth can give me no more," said Rudy, "an evening hour like this is a whole life! How often have I felt as now, and thought that if everything should end suddenly, how happily have I lived! How blessed is this world! The day ended, a new one dawned and I felt that it was still more beautiful! How bountiful is our Lord, Babette!"

"I am so happy!" said she.