The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.Spielhagen, Friedrich
General
The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
"Whom I mentioned to you," interrupted the President. "He went out
again after our arrival here to look after the steamer. I almost think
that he must have lost his way among the sandhills, or that some
accident has happened to him."
"Some men with lanterns should be sent after him," exclaimed the Count.
"I will give the order at once."
And he moved towards the door.
"You need not trouble yourself," cried Elsa; "it has already been done
at my request."
"Oh!" said the Count, with a smile; "indeed!"
The blood rose to Elsa's cheek. As she came into the room, and the
Count turned quickly towards her--with his regular features and clear
bright colouring, set off by a fair moustache--she had thought him
good-looking, even handsome; the smile made him positively ugly. Why
should he smile? She drew herself up to her full height.
"Captain Schmidt rendered us the most essential service during our
passage; we have to thank him that we are here in safety. It seems to
me only our duty not to leave him in the lurch now."
"But, my dear madam, I am quite of your opinion!" said the Count, and
smiled again.
The veins in Elsa's temples were throbbing. She cast a reproachful
glance at her father. Why did he leave her to defend a cause which
after all was his? She did not know that her father was extremely vexed
at the turn the conversation had taken, and was only doubting whether
he could not use the Captain's absence as a pretext to avoid for
himself and his daughter at least the Count's hospitality. She did not
hear either with what marked emphasis he agreed to the necessity for
waiting still some time longer, as she had left the room after her last
words.
In the little entrance, in which through the wide open door the light
from the carriage lamps now brightly shone, she stood still and pressed
her slender hands against her brow. What had come over her so suddenly?
Why had she been so eager? To provoke a stranger's smile by her
over-eagerness, to draw upon herself the suspicion of taking a too
lively interest in the person, when it was only the cause she cared
about, only that a debt of courtesy, to say nothing of gratitude, might
be paid? Supposing the people who seemed to be just leaving the yard
with their lanterns should not find him? How long might she still wait?
When ought she to say, We must start? Or, supposing he returned only to
say that he was not thinking of going with them, and that childish
scene had been acted for nothing? For the third time, and now with
right and reason, the Count might smile.
"That I could not bear!" said Elsa, and stamped her foot.
A figure stood in the outer doorway; his wet macintosh shining in the
light of the lanterns, the waterproof cap shining, and the eyes in the
brown-bearded face shining too--and it all looked so odd and so funny,
that Elsa laughed aloud, and laughing exclaimed:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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