She embraced him fervently, and then would have freed herself, but he held her hand fast.
“It is impossible, Elsa; it is already growing dark up here, and in half an hour below it will be night. You cannot be certain of keeping to the road, which can no longer be distinguished from the moor, and that is full of deep bogs. It is really impossible, Elsa.”
“It must be possible. I should despise myself if I kept you back from your duty; and how could you continue to love me, and not to look upon your love as a burden, if I did so? How do you know that you may not be wanted at the shortest notice? At this moment possibly the men may be standing helpless, and looking out for their leader. Reinhold, by your love! am I right or not?”
“You are indeed right, but—”
“No ‘but,’ my darling, we must part.” They were as they spoke hastening hand-in-hand along the path by which Elsa had before reached the top, and now stood on the cross way which led on one side to the Warnow moor, and on the other to Wissow.
“Only to the foot. Till I know you are on the right path,” said Reinhold.
“Not a step farther. Hark! What is that?”
He had also noticed it already—a sound as of horses’ feet, galloping on the hard turf behind the slope of the hill which rose before them and concealed from them any farther view of the other and more precipitous side. The next moment a rider appeared in sight over the hill. He had now reached the top, and pulling up his horse, rose in his saddle and appeared to be looking round him.
“It is the Count,” said Elsa.
A deep glow came into her face. “You must accompany me a little way now,” she said, drawing a deep breath. “Come.”
She took his arm. At that moment the Count, who had been looking above them, looked down, and saw the pair. He put spurs to his horse, and galloping down the slope, was with them in a trice. He had no doubt recognised Reinhold at once, for when he checked his horse and took off his hat, his countenance did not show the slightest trace of wonder or astonishment. He seemed in fact not to see Reinhold, as if he had met Elsa alone.
“This is good luck indeed. How delighted your aunt will be. She is waiting there; the carriage could not come any farther.”
He pointed with the handle of his whip over the slope of the hill.
“I assure you it is so, though you seem so astonished. Your aunt was very uneasy at your long absence—inquired in the neighbourhood—learnt from Pölitz that you had come here—a strange fancy, by Jove!—your aunt was determined to come herself—I had just returned with Fräulein von Wallbach, and begged to escort her—was beginning to despair. Awfully lucky! May I be allowed to accompany you to the carriage? it is not a hundred yards off.”
He had swung himself from his saddle, and held his horse by the bridle.
Reinhold looked straight into Elsa’s eyes. She understood and answered the look.
“We are much obliged to you, Count Golm,” he said, “but we will not trespass on your kindness one instant longer than is necessary. I will myself conduct my betrothed to the Baroness.”
“Ah!” said the Count.
He had pictured to himself beforehand the terrible embarrassment which, in his opinion, the two culprits would feel on becoming aware of his presence, and the shock that the Baroness would experience if he could tell her in what company he had had the happiness of meeting her niece. He took it for granted that on his arrival the fellow would take himself off to Wissow, with some embarrassed words of explanation. And now he could not believe his ears, and he could hardly trust his eyes, as Elsa and this fellow, turning their backs upon him, walked off arm-in-arm, as if he had not been there. With one spring he was again in his stirrups.
“Allow me at least to announce the joyful news to the Baroness!” he cried, as bowing sarcastically he galloped past and hastened up the hill, behind which he almost immediately disappeared.
“Wretch!” said Elsa; “thank you, Reinhold, for having understood me, for having freed me forever from him and all. You cannot imagine how thankful I am, nor why I am so thankful. I will not trouble your loving heart yet with the hateful things I have learned. I will tell you another time. Happen what will, I am yours, you are mine. That happiness is so great, everything else is in comparison small and insignificant.”
At a slight distance from them stood the open carriage, and beside it a horseman. They thought it was the Count, but on coming nearer they saw that it was a servant. The Count had vanished. As soon as he had imparted the great discovery, with a sneering laugh to the Baroness, receiving no other reply than, “I
