"You are making fun of me! Verily any one who will uphold a sensible principle in a ridiculous world, must at least appear like a Don Quixote, even to himself; at least, they all look upon his helmet as a barber's goblet. I am weary of carrying on this impossible struggle with want of sense."

Ccilie did not interrupt the monologue, but beat upon the table with her fingers, and looked inquiringly at his face with her cunning sparkling eyes.

"I took Olga's to be a nature," continued Kuhl, "which, following an unknown impulse, grasps the right one. We need such natures which do not trouble themselves at all about the rules of society, which pa.s.s no sleepless nights in consequence. For me she was refreshing, because for the mentally intoxicated, and those who are tired of roving, who wander through heaven and earth, there is no better refreshment than a richly endowed material nature; for me she was a triumph because she showed me that not natural feeling, but only the falsity of society demanded exclusive possession."

Ccilie cast down her eyes and said timidly, "I did not know that Olga was so much to you!

"Not she alone, you both together, you complete one another in a harmonious picture of perfect womanhood."

"And what are we, then, separately, each by herself? Melancholy, imperfect work! And yet, dear Paul, if I ask my heart--is it rich enough in ardent pa.s.sion to satisfy one whole life, I hear the reply and repeat it with pride. I alone will have you, for I feel the power within me quite alone to make you happy; for every effort, every action of your mind, an echo lives in my breast; for the glow and impetuosity of your love a corresponding fire; for immeasurable will, immeasurable devotion."

"Ccilie," cried Kuhl warmly, stirred by the beautiful enthusiasm of an usually cold nature.

"My heart would tell me this, my proud heart! But love which can do all things, can also be resolute. I do not suffice you--well then! I did not only do violence to my own feelings, but in full consciousness I took martyrdom upon me, I bore the contempt of the world, not from the conviction that your audacious opinion was right, but with self-sacrificing courage of love I rejected Wegen's offer, as the world rejects me. You must be all to me, and I am not even to possess the comfort of being all to you."

Sinister clouds gathered on Kuhl's brow, he struggled with a resolution.

"Oh! do not think that it is so easy to stand alone and bear contempt.

It wounds one's heart--and many scalding tears have I shed, and even now they come again into my eyes, although I may bear the humiliation with a smiling countenance."

Ccilie began to sob, and with clenched hands Kuhl sprang up from the table, as though he would call an opponent out to battle.

"You cannot protect me as Blanden protected his beloved, with a pistol in his hand: outlaw and excommunication hover over me, but such things cannot be touched; they only keep watch in the air, they are only written on countenances, in gestures--and not men accustomed to battle are they who carry out this excommunication; they are women and girls, the guardians of propriety who only pierce a heart with pins."

"It shall be different," cried Kuhl now, with firm resolution. "Olga has left us, you have remained true to me, you shall not suffer for it.

Verily, I am not Blanden's inferior in courage, and yet that duel has given me much to think about. He offered up his life for his beloved one's good name. I cannot, I must not, look on and see them insult you.

Blanden has often already said so. I would not believe it; to-day I see it with my own eyes. No, no, no! He was right, ten times right! I may sacrifice _myself_ to my convictions, but not a girl who loves me!"

Ccilie had also risen, and with clasped hands looked beseechingly at him.

"I can ascend the funereal pile, but must not permit them even to scorch the finger tips of my beloved. Hitherto, you have sacrificed much to me, your good name before the world; thus I will sacrifice much to you, everything, a portion of my better self, faith towards truth.

Yes, at this moment I appear like a traitor in my own eyes, whose hand shall be cut off, but I am weak, I will be weak out of love for you.

They shall not think lightly of you, they shall not, although I despise their opinion and can only compare them with the vapour that hovers over large towns, the pestilential air of a densely-packed crowd, but for your sake Ccilie--be it! I will take part in the same absurdity, and thus declare you to be my betrothed."

With a suppressed cry of gladness, Ccilie sank into his arms, the stove concealed the group from the eyes of the many.

"And even marriage I shall not mind, it is the fruit of this evil doing and so on. At this moment I appear contemptible to myself, small--no reformer's vein flows through me, it must say _pereat mundus_ 'and live the new faith,' but a man can no longer stand upon the buskin when he stands beneath the slipper. But now they shall have it in black and white, lithographed, engraved!--what do I care? And in all newspapers it shall be stated, so that you shall be purified, my child, with printer's ink! Go, hasten, whisper it to your sister, cry it through the room, they shall respect you, it does not cost much, a small amount of lungs and a few letters, such as are before a menagerie; lion and lioness in one cage! Then they will be contented at once. I shall still remain here in my corner, I must first consider what kind of grimace I must make as a _fianc_. I shall look odd."

Ccilie kissed his hands; drawing back, he said, "None of those slavish caresses, but go, go! There, I am, after all, caught in the purple silk, and the cursed song of the bridesmaids' wreath buzzes in my ears!

By Jupiter! And Wegen, my brother-in-law! That is what reasoning animals call it! That is the most bitter pill!"

Ccilie hastened at once to her sister and mother to bring them the glad tidings. Frau von Dornau was too happy! Two daughters engaged on one day!

Olga congratulated her sister heartily. "Only think," added she, "we became engaged out in the snow and ice, with the thermometer twenty degrees below zero!"

"And we," said Ccilie smiling, "at about twenty degrees above zero, behind the blazing stove. It is a tale of extremes! It is to be hoped that the right temperature will be restored to us both in marriage."

Kuhl was brought out of his corner by both sisters to the family table; he wore the air of a culprit, who is led to execution. Wegen was br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with cordiality, Kuhl b.u.t.toned up his coat.

"It is better thus," said the Baron, "_suum cuique!_ One must learn to control oneself."

"Well, I should think," replied Kuhl, "we have nothing to reproach ourselves with."

The news spread rapidly through the room and created the greatest sensation. Major Bern's wife appeared behind Ccilie's chair with the friendly words, "May we congratulate you, my dear Frulein?" The Kanzleirthin came in her red shawl with her fat daughter Minna; both were affected, as was natural, under the circ.u.mstances. Minna had already wished happiness to so many others with her tears--rain falling upon the bridal wreath brings happiness. Last of all Lori appeared also, and congratulated with all her heart. Kuhl was a good match.

"There you have the world," said the latter to Ccilie, "with what a fine thread these marionettes can be guided! It is worth while to act a comedy before such an audience."

But Lori said to Dr. Sperner, as he sat down beside her, "G.o.d have mercy on them! Courage is needed to marry Dr. Kuhl. Without barred windows and heavy iron, he will yet escape some day."

The moon shone brightly! The return journey was commenced in the most cheerful mood, which, however, soon ceased in the astonishing cold which meanwhile had set in.

"A bridal drive, such as the Esquimaux enjoy," said Kuhl, "but it is done more comfortably there with the dog-sleighs; here we must push our own goods home."

CHAPTER VII.

IN THE LAND OF THE LOTUS-FLOWERS.

Blanden recovered slowly; several relapses occurred, weeks elapsed before he might take his drive with Giulia.

The softened mood of the convalescent was in harmony with the wild spring breeze which was wafted towards them from wood and meadow. The thawing wind had melted the ice on the Pregel, it floated to the sea, and the breezes of spring swept through the air.

They descended from the carriage in the wood, they gathered the last snow drops, the first anemones.

"I love these flowers," said Blanden, "the pretty anemones cannot grow in gloom, they only flourish in places where a fresh breath of air greets them, where the wind plays with their delicate coronets of blossom. Free air, fresh air, breath of life, how I have ever longed for you! I feel myself related to these lovely flowers--and if a soul dwells in these tiny anemones, it is one thirsting after freedom."

Giulia had learned to enter entirely into Blanden's thoughts and feelings, the quiet, familiar intercourse in his sick room had given her leisure to become quite absorbed in his richly stored mind.

Daily she felt more that she could not live without him, and equally so that she owed him her whole life; again and again she told herself that it could be no sin if she made him happy, so long as it was permitted by the fate which she defied. He did not see the sword above her head, she saw it with internal trembling, and yet--she defied it, even if it might fall upon her.

How devoutly she listened to his tales of the land of the lotus-flowers! Ah, how vast was the world, how rich the knowledge of it, how varying the habits! Giulia was almost alarmed when Blanden told her of the woman at Luckwardie, on the hills of the Himalaya, high above the Pomona--every woman there belongs to four brothers.

She lost herself completely in the breath of the fairy tale and flowery land, that is so lovely in its dreams and so vast in its thoughts. One after another Blanden unrolled these magically illuminated worlds of thought conceived by silent thinkers in penitents' garb and hermits'

huts. Is the world but the veil, the dream, the existence?--why then is life full of nervous dread? Giulia felt herself strengthened by that dream-world of the Bast, everything painful and impious faded away in that mild, softening twilight.

Blanden, too, seemed to be transfigured by the soothing influence of sickness, in the loneliness of the sick room, far removed from the world: like one of those thoughtful hermits, who, upon mossy banks in sacred groves, amongst flowers and gazelles, ponder upon the mystery of the world. She thus forgot that he, far from belonging to inactive dreamers, had only lately given a proof of western knightliness which is very different from the blood-fearing Hindoo; but yet he was filled with the warmest sympathy for Hindoo thinkers and poets.

"How profound," said he often, "is the blending of the soul with all that their wise men teach. If the form break, the spirit becomes united with the Divine soul of the world, as a bottle in the deep mingles its contents with the sea, if it break against the rocks."

Four lines of poetry, however, were, above all others, ineffaceably impressed in her memory, reflecting her situation, her mood, so truly that she trembled in her very soul when Blanden first recited them to her, verses culled from one of the two great hero books of India, containing such depth of thought as is not to be found either in the heroic poetry of Greece or Germany--

"Oh earthly happiness ever trembling on the brink, As dew drops kiss the flowers a moment but to sink; As logs on the ocean may meet and then sever So men here on earth, and to meet again--never."

Blanden was obliged to kiss the tears from Giulia's eyes, which the grand verses of the Ramayana and the song of "trembling earthly happiness" had called forth.