4. IV.
I know nothing that gives one such an elevated idea
of human nature (in one's own person) as helping
another man to a woman one loves. Oh last days of
minority or thereabout! oh primal manhood! oh
golden time, when we have let go all but the enthusiasm
of the boy, and seized hold of all but the selfishness
of the man! oh blessed interregnum of the
evil and stronger genius! why can we not bottle up
thy hours like the wine of a better vintage, and enjoy
them in the parched world-weariness of age? In the
tardy honeymoon of a bachelor (as mine will be, if it
come ever, alas!) with what joy of paradise should we
bring up from the cellars of the past a hamper of that
sunny Hippocrene!
Pedlar Karl and “the gentleman in No. 10” would
have been suspected in any other country of conspiracy.
(How odd, that the highest crime of a monarchy
—the attempt to supplant the existing ruler—becomes
in a republic a creditable profession! You are a traitor
here, a politician there!) We sat together from
midnight onward, discoursing in low voices over sherry
and sandwiches; and in that crowded Babylon, his
entrances and exits required a very conspirator-like
management. Known as my friend, his trade and his
disguise were up. As a pedlar, wandering about
where he listed when not employed over his wares, his
interviews with Meeta were easily contrived, and his
lover's watch, gazing on her through the long hours
of the ball from the crowd of villagers at the windows,
hovering about her walks, and feeding his heart on
the many, many chance looks of fondness given him
every hour in that out-of-doors society, kept him comparatively
happy.
“The baron looked hard at you to-day,” said I, as
he closed the door in my little room, and sat down on
the bed.
“Yes; he takes an interest in me as a countryman,
but he does not know me. He is a dull observer, and
has seen me but once in Germany.”
“How, then, have you known Meeta so long?”
“I accompanied her brother home from the university,
when the baron was away, and for a long month
we were seldom parted. Riding, boating on the Rhine,
watching the sunset from the bartizan of the old castletowers,
reading in the old library, rambling in the park
and forest—it was a heaven, my friend, than which I
can conceive none brighter.”
“And her brother?”
“Alas! changed! We were both boys then, and a
brother is slow to believe his sister's beauty dangerous.
He was the first to shut the doors against me, when
he heard that the poor student had dared to love his
highborn Meeta.”
Karl covered his eyes with his hand, and brooded
for a while in silence on the remembrances he had
awakened.
“Do you think the baron came to America purposely
to avoid you?”
“Partly, I have no doubt, for I entered the castle
one night in my despair, when I had been forbidden
entrance, and he found me at her feet in the old corridor.
It was the only time he ever saw me, if, indeed,
he saw me at all in the darkness: and he immediately
hastened his preparations for a long-contemplated
journey, I knew not whither.”
“Did you follow him soon?”
“No, for my heart was crushed at first, and I despaired.
The possibility of following them in my
wretched poverty did not even occur to me for
months.”
“How did you track them hither, of all places in
the world?”
“I sought them first in Italy. It is easy on the
continent to find out where persons are not, and after
two years' wanderings, I heard of them in Paris.
They had just sailed for America. I followed; but
in a country where there are no passports, and no
espionage, it is difficult to trace the traveller. It was
probable only that they would be at a place of general
resort, and I came here with no assurance but hope.
Thanks to God, the first sight that greeted my eyes
was my dear Meeta, whose irregular step, as she
walked back and forth with you in the gallery, enabled
me to recognise her in the darkness.”
Who shall say the days of romance are over? The
plot is not brought to the catastrophe, but we hope it
is near.
