5. V.
“One afternoon, a few weeks prior to the time
appointed for the marriage, Carl and Matilda went
forth upon their usual rambles. Herman went not
with them. He had gone away from the village
on some alleged business, though, it is more than
probable, that he had simply excused himself, with
a delicate sense of propriety, from adding to a
party which under existing circumstances could do
very well without him. The fond Carl had more
than once been indebted in this manner to the kind
consideration of his friend. Thus, left to themselves,
the lovers wandered off in the usual direction,
and were soon embosomed in the haunted
shades of the ancient abbey. They seated themselves
among the monuments, and discoursed of
the old time stories; and, with each remembered
legend, the timid Matilda, with a most natural
fear, would creep closer to her lover, and the fond
Carl, with a most natural protection, at length encircled
her waist with his arms; and the ghosts of
ancient years were forgotten by the happy pair, in
the delicious realities of their present situation.
“But a sudden step, as of one approaching, disturbed
their dream of felicity. It was Herman.
He came, with an air of impatient pleasure and
slow regret, mingled up in his manner. As he
drew nigh, he handed a letter to Carl, and bade
him read it.
“It is from my uncle, old Ulrich Ottfried of
Amsterdam, and he writes for me to come to him
immediately. The place he promised me is at
length vacant, and I must lose no time to secure
it—I must leave you.'
“`Leave us, dear brother!' exclaimed Matilda.
“`Leave us, Herman!' said Carl.
“`Ay, leave you!' replied the brother, `leave
you, to be sure. Would you have me sit here,
purring like a tame cat all my life, when there I
have a chance to be somebody, and see the great
city.'
“`And will you leave us, Herman?' said the
girl reproachfully, and the tears stood in her eyes.
“`Pshaw, 'Tilda! no tears now, I beg you.
They're not true—they're not natural. You
know you won't miss me, and there's no reason
why you should. You have Carl there, and he'll
be more to you than ever I can be. He suits you
better; and I know him too well to be afraid to
leave you to his hands.'
“`Dear Herman!' said Carl, but you will not
go soon—you will stay to the wedding.'
“`I can't—the letter, you see, urges my instant
departure; and I'm too anxious to get the
place to risk the loss of it by any idle delay. It's
true, I'm sorry to part with you; but, as I said, I
leave you both in good hands. You love 'Tilda,
and she loves you, and I believe you will be quite
as happy with each other, as if I looked on myself,
and saw all your happiness.'
“The hand of Carl pressed that of Matilda, and
her's returned the pressure, at these words. Carl
then demanded of Herman when he proposed to
set forth. His prompt answer surprised and pained
his hearers.
“`To-morrow!' said he, `at early dawn, I
travel.'
“`To-morrow!' exclaimed Matilda, `dear brother,
you cannot mean it!'
“`So soon, Herman!' said Carl.
“`Ay, to-morrow—so soon!' was the reply.
`It's hard. I find it harder than I thought, to
leave you—you, dear 'Tilda—for you have been
a dear, sweet sister to me always; and you Carl,
who have been a brother after my heart's wish: I
find it very hard to leave you, but I can't help
it; nor, indeed, if I could, would I. The place
is every thing to me, and I can make my fortune
in it. My uncle, if I please him, promises to take
me with him into business. Read the letter, Carl
—see how fairly the good old fellow speaks. He
is a good old fellow—he always loved me. I was
his favorite, 'Tilda—he never thought much of
you. But, never you mind—there's no good
fortune that comes to Herman that you shall not
share—both of you. So, it matters not much
which of us the old man loved—it's the same
thing; but go I must, and, as I've told you already,
I go to-morrow.'
“This seemed a settled matter in the mind of
Herman, and it produced a melancholy feeling in
that of Carl. It seemed to impress Matilda even
more gloomily, as well it might; for Herman was
an only brother, and having neither mother nor
father, the privation, she well knew, must be severely
felt. She had no longer spirit to remain
abroad, and closely attended by the young men,
she returned, in sorrowful temper, to her cottage.
