Immensee Page 8

  Some days later, as evening was already closing in, the family was, asusual at this time of the day, sitting all together in theirgarden-room. The doors stood wide open, and the sun had already sunkbehind the woods on the far side of the lake.

  Reinhard was invited to read some folk-songs which had been sent tohim that afternoon by a friend who lived away in the country. He wentup to his room and soon returned with a roll of papers which seemed toconsist of detached neatly written pages.

  So they all sat down to the table, Elisabeth beside Reinhard. "Weshall read them at random," said the latter, "I have not yet lookedthrough them myself."

  Elisabeth unrolled the manuscript. "Here's some music," she said, "youmust sing it, Reinhard."

  To begin with he read some Tyrolese ditties[5] and as he read on hewould now and then hum one or other of the lively melodies. A generalfeeling of cheeriness pervaded the little party.

  [5] Dialectal for _Schnitterhuepfen_, _i.e._ 'reapers' dances,' sungespecially in the Tyrol and in Bavaria.

  "And who, pray, made all these pretty songs?" asked Elisabeth.

  "Oh," said Eric, "you can tell that by listening to the rubbishythings--tailors' apprentices and barbers and such-like merry folk."

  Reinhard said: "They are not made; they grow, they drop from the clouds,they float over the land like gossamer, hither and thither, and are sungin a thousand places at the same time.[6] We discover in these songs ourvery inmost activities and sufferings: it is as if we all had helped towrite them."

  [6] These fine cobwebs, produced by field-spiders, have always in thepopular mind been connected with the gods. After the advent ofChristianity they were connected with the Virgin Mary. The shroud inwhich she was wrapped after her death was believed to have been woven ofthe very finest thread, which during her ascent to Heaven frayed awayfrom her body.

  He took up another sheet: "I stood on the mountain height..."[7]

  [7] An ancient folk-song which treats of a beautiful but poor maiden,who, being unable to marry 'the young count,' retired to a convent.

  "I know that one," cried Elisabeth; "begin it, do, Reinhard, and Iwill help you out."

  So they sang that famous melody, which is so mysterious that one canhardly believe that it was ever conceived by the heart of man,Elisabeth with her slightly clouded contralta taking the second partto the young man's tenor.

  The mother meanwhile sat busy with her needlework, while Eric listenedattentively, with one hand clasped in the other. The song finished,Reinhard laid the sheet on one side in silence. Up from the lake-shorecame through the evening calm the tinkle of the cattle bells; theywere all listening without knowing why, and presently they heard aboy's clear voice singing:

  I stood on the mountain height And viewed the deep valley beneath....

  Reinhard smiled. "Do you hear that now? So it passes from mouth tomouth."

  "It is often sung in these parts," said Elisabeth.

  "Yes," said Eric, "it is Casper the herdsman; he is driving the heifershome."[8]

  [8] _Starke_ is the southern dialect word for _Faerse_, 'young cow,''heifer.'

  They listened a while longer until the tinkle of the bells died awaybehind the farm buildings. "These melodies are as old as the world,"said Reinhard; "they slumber in the depths of the forest; God knowswho discovered them."

  He drew forth a fresh sheet.

  It had now grown darker; a crimson evening glow lay like foam over thewoods in the farther side of the lake. Reinhard unrolled the sheet,Elisabeth caught one side of it in her hand, and they both examined ittogether. Then Reinhard read:

  By my mother's hard decree Another's wife I needs must be; Him on whom my heart was set, Him, alas! I must forget; My heart protesting, but not free.

  Bitterly did I complain That my mother brought me pain. What mine honour might have been, That is turned to deadly sin. Can I ever hope again?

  For my pride what can I show, And my joy, save grief and woe? Oh! could I undo what's done, O'er the moor scorched by the sun Beggarwise I'd gladly go.

  During the reading of this Reinhard had felt an imperceptiblequivering of the paper; and when he came to an end Elisabeth gentlypushed her chair back and passed silently out into the garden. Hermother followed her with a look. Eric made as if to go after, but themother said:

  "Elisabeth has one or two little things to do outside," so he remainedwhere he was.

  But out of doors the evening brooded darker and darker over garden andlake. Moths whirred past the open doors through which the fragrance offlower and bush floated in increasingly; up from the water came thecroak of the frogs, under the windows a nightingale commenced his songanswered by another from within the depths of the garden; the moonappeared over the tree-tops.

  Reinhard looked for a little while longer at the spot whereElisabeth's sweet form had been lost to sight in the thick-foliagedgarden paths, and then he rolled up his manuscript, bade his friendsgood-night and passed through the house down to the water.

  The woods stood silent and cast their dark shadow far out over thelake, while the centre was bathed in the haze of a pale moonlight. Nowand then a gentle rustle trembled through the trees, though wind therewas none; it was but the breath of summer night.

  Reinhard continued along the shore. A stone's throw from the land heperceived a white water-lily. All at once he was seized with thedesire to see it quite close, so he threw off his clothes and enteredthe water. It was quite shallow; sharp stones and water plants cut hisfeet, and yet he could not reach water deep enough for him to swim in.

  Then suddenly he stepped out of his depth: the waters swirled abovehim; and it was some time before he rose to the surface again. Hestruck out with hands and feet and swam about in a circle until he hadmade quite sure from what point he had entered the water. And soon toohe saw the lily again floating lonely among the large, gleamingleaves.

  He swam slowly out, lifting every now and then his arms out of thewater so that the drops trickled down and sparkled in the moonlight.Yet the distance between him and the flower showed no signs ofdiminishing, while the shore, as he glanced back at it, showed behindhim in a hazy mist that ever deepened. But he refused to give up theventure and vigorously continued swimming in the same direction.

  At length he had come so near the flower that he was able clearly todistinguish the silvery leaves in the moonlight; but at the same timehe felt himself entangled in a net formed by the smooth stems of thewater plants which swayed up from the bottom and wound themselvesround his naked limbs.

  The unfamiliar water was black all round about him, and behind him heheard the sound of a fish leaping. Suddenly such an uncanny feelingoverpowered him in the midst of this strange element that with mightand main he tore asunder the network of plants and swam back to landin breathless haste. And when from the shore he looked back upon thelake, there floated the lily on the bosom of the darkling water as faraway and as lonely as before.

  He dressed and slowly wended his way home. As he passed out of thegarden into the room he discovered Eric and the mother busied withpreparations for a short journey which had to be undertaken forbusiness purposes on the morrow.

  "Where ever have you been so late in the dark?" the mother called outto him.

  "I?" he answered, "oh, I wanted to pay a call on the water-lily, but Ifailed."

  "That's beyond the comprehension of any man," said Eric. "What onearth had you to do with the water-lily?"

  "Oh, I used to be friends with the lily once," said Reinhard; "butthat was long ago."

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  ELISABETH