The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. III.Spielhagen, Friedrich
General
The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. III.
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
It was three miles, Frau Pölitz had to Wissow Head, but it seemed to
Elsa as if the long, winding road would never come to an end. And yet
she walked so quickly, that the little empty waggon which at first was
far ahead of her, was now as far behind. That wretched vehicle was the
only sign of human life. Besides that, only the brown plain, like a
desert waste, as far as her eye could reach. No large trees, only here
and there a few stunted willows, and some wretched shrubs by the
ditches which intersected each other here and there, and by the broad
sluggish stream which she now crossed by means of a rickety and
unprotected wooden bridge. The stream evidently flowed from the chain
of hills on her right hand, at the foot of which Elsa could see far
apart the buildings of Gristow and of Damerow, the two other properties
belonging to Warnow.
Taking a long circuit, she gradually ascended to Wissow Head, which lay
straight before her, whilst the plain to the left stretched without the
smallest undulation to the low-lying dunes, which only showed white
here and there over the edge of the moor. Only once, for a few minutes,
a leaden-grey streak showed through a gap by which the brook made its
way, which Elsa knew must be the sea, although she could scarcely
distinguish it from the sky, for the sky above her was the same leaden
colour too, only that towards the east, over the sea, it seemed
somewhat darker than over the hills to the west, and in the leaden
firmament hung here and there a solitary whitish speck like the smoke
of gunpowder, which in the motionless air remained always in the same
spot. Not the slightest breath was stirring, but from time to time a
strange murmur passed across the waste, as if the brown moor was trying
to rouse itself from its long slumber; and through the heavy, gloomy
atmosphere there came a sound as of a soft, long-drawn-out, plaintive
wail, and then again a death-like stillness, in which Elsa seemed to
hear the beating of her heart.
But more fearful almost than the stillness of this desert spot was the
shrieking of a great flock of sea-gulls, which she had startled from
one of the many hollows on the moors, and which now hovered hither and
thither in the grey atmosphere, their pointed bills turned downwards,
and followed her for a long time, as if in furious anger at this
intruder upon their domain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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