"Now I, too, shall learn," said he to himself, "what has become of her, and my old receipts will flow in once more."

CHAPTER VI.

ON LAND AND SEA.

A sparkling, dewy morning made Warnicken, that jewel of the Samland coast, glisten with double brilliancy.

Blanden stood beneath the oaks of the precipitous declivity of the Fuchs-spitze. Impatiently he followed the slowly rising course of the sun and the shadows gradually moving aside.

Slowly the tops of the trees stood out one after another in the sunny light, and the course of the heavenly orb could be measured beneath them in the green verdure, in which the quivering, leafy network spun its shadows ever farther over the campanulas, whose calix had just now glittered in the sunny illumination.

Every branch, every flower, became a hand of the sun's clock for the impatient tarrier, while its seconds and minutes moved haltingly forward.

Blanden's disquiet was not the consequence of that longing with which joyous, triumphant love goes to a reunion. A single meeting may make a deep impression on the heart, but yet it only yields an uncertain picture, more resembling a vision, than tangible reality, and how much still is left to the enquiring mind; how easily is a delusion possible, which lends a lasting value to a transitory mood!

Will the second meeting uphold that which the first one promised? Will it confirm the deep impression which Blanden had received of the campanula in the forest's gloom?

He hardly dared to doubt it; this doubt would have made him unhappy already; because he believed himself to have found that which would be able to give rest and peace to his life.

He hoped for a chance encounter, which might be looked for with certainty in the so little frequented Warnicken; he would not as yet introduce himself into the house, to the family; he dreaded lest its middle-cla.s.s setting should rob his fancy's picture of its entrancing magic, nor did he feel justified at present in displaying his interest in the girl in so conspicuous a manner.

Morning's freshness, however, did not seem to be beloved by the Warnicken visitors. For a long time no living beings showed themselves.

At last Blanden saw the shimmer of a summer dress through the bushes; his heart beat, as if it must be Eva; but it was an old maid in a washed-out morning toilet, carrying a yapping lap-dog, casting a few indifferent glances at the sea, and retiring immediately again, after this modest enjoyment of nature.

Below, by the rope, a bald-headed male visitor splashed in the but slightly-disturbed waves; everything else was quiet and tranquil.

Blanden walked uneasily up and down. Perhaps the whole colony had made some excursion; he would return to the inn to make enquiries about Regierungsrath Kalzow, as chance, upon which he had at first calculated, did not favour him.

The sea, after yesterday's storm, lay in sunny clearness and calm; the splashing of the breakers on the strand only rose like a gentle murmur; merely a slight quiver spread over the vast surface; one hardly knew whether it was the shadow of a cloud flying past, or the pulse's gentle throb of the slumbering sea itself.

Then Blanden perceived a boat being put off from the sh.o.r.e; two girls sat in it, one of whom rowed, while the other, in a clear voice, sang a merry song.

He took his telescope to his aid; a fisher-girl was rowing, but the other was gazing out steadily over the sea. He could not see her features, but he did see that a wreath of blue-bells adorned her straw hat. There, she turned round and directed her face towards the cliffs along the coast; the morning sun lay full upon those fresh features--it was his campanula!

Quickly resolved, Blanden hastened down the steep footpath from the Fuchs-spitze to a landing-place, where two boats still lay at anchor.

He had soon made his bargain with the fisherman: to the latter's great astonishment, he had bought the one for a price which richly compensated him for the temporary loss.

Quickly as lightning, Blanden sprang into the boat, seized the oar, and followed the skiff, which was already disappearing in the distance. The vigorous physical exertion made him feel his internal impatience less keenly.

"I seem to myself," thought he, "to be like an old pirate-prince, who gives chase to a beautiful woman. The confounded stillness of the sea!

If I could only set full sail, so as to hasten more speedily after my sweet prey. But no quarter when once I have boarded the enemy's ship!"

Blanden pulled with all his might, and the distance between him and the two girls' skiff did indeed become ever smaller; it appeared, too, as though they were about to turn round, they watched the boat following them, and sought to avoid it; all the more determinedly did it pursue their evading movements.

The one girl stood erectly in the skiff, her hand resting on the rudder; she looked in curious expectance at the persistent pursuer, while the other girl rowed on with stolid indifference.

Blanden, with the art of a skilled sailor, cut off every possible means of return; so that farther flight seaward only remained. Both girls seemed to be agreed on that point; Eva's signs and actions left no doubt about it; but it was already too late: by attempting to return they had lost too much of their start, and Blanden, in his little boat, pulled, with great strength and rapidity.

"Campanula!" cried he to her, when they had come near enough to one another; she recognised his voice. As in sweet alarm, she let the tiller ropes slip from her hands; then she stood motionlessly and folded them. But the fisher-girl commenced a spasmodic race, in vain Eva signed and called to her; the girl only nodded her head and pulled on, but Blanden after a short time overtook them once more.

"Captured at last!" cried he triumphantly, "difficult as it is made for us to greet an old acquaintance again!"

"Welcome, Herr a.s.sistant!" cried Eva, who had recovered her unaffected liveliness, "I admire your knowledge of seamanship; you probably have gained it in duck-shooting?"

"Do you not find, my beautiful child," said Blanden, "that this conversation is somewhat uncomfortable, and at the same time, dangerous? Our boats are so close together, that they might knock against and upset one another, and I shall not stir from your side any more, after having worked my way into your vicinity by the sweat of my brow."

"What is to be done then?" asked Eva, "we shall go down together."

"Oh, no, I shall act according to the rights of the sea!"

"Have you some kind of right on your side again? Are you an inspector of the sea perhaps, as you were inspector of the forest, and would you ask me again for my pa.s.sport?"

"The right which I have on my side, is one of the oldest and best rights which history knows; it is the right of might! I shall take possession of your boat and declare it, with all that it contains, to be a lawful prize. You are sailing without a flag, you have no ship's papers."

"And do we live in time of war?"

"Certainly until we have made peace, I see a lovely enemy in you; therefore--board and give no quarter!"

And with a rapid bound Blanden had sprung into Eva's violently rocking boat, while he relinquished his own to the waves.

The weak minded fisher-girl, with a low cry, pointed to the boat floating away, while she exclaimed--

"Father's boat! Father's boat!"

"Indeed," said Eva, as she retired completely to the rudder, "you are not wanting in audacity? This is an attack in pirate fashion!"

"Do I look like a corsair?"

"I do not know any personally, but why should you not sit for the frontispiece to Byron's poem? You are sun-burnt enough for it, and look as though you would have no fear of adventures!"

"Certainly not, if the prize be worth the risk!"

"And then--how recklessly you treat the property of others! The poor fisherman's boat drifts upon the waves, without a master."

"Excuse me, my Frulein! That boat is my property; I bought it and can give it up again to the billows."

"And why do you do this?"

"Is it not worth some sacrifice to be with you? Nor would I appear here as lord and master; no, but as your humble oarsman! Away little one, let me go to the oar."

The fisher-girl did not stir; seeing he was about to take the oar from her by force, she prepared to stand upon the defensive.