The view was enchanting. The opposite shore gleamed silvery blue in the
delicate white light of a northern spring day. In the distance, the
masses of houses and the spires of Hamburg hung upon the horizon like a
faintly tinted, half-washed out transparency. A light breeze ruffled
the broad bosom of the Alster, and the red and green steamboats plowed
dark furrows in its brightness, which remained there long after the
boats had passed, and faded away finally in many a serpentine curve.
Numbers of little rowing and sailing-boats floated upon the slow
current, peopled by couples and parties in their Sunday clothes, their
talk and merry laughter sounding across the water to the shore. A
sailing-boat passed quite close to the terrace on its way to the
Fahrhaus. A young boatman handled the sails, a little boy was steering,
and in the stern sat a young man and a pretty rosy girl, their arms
affectionately intertwined, softly singing, "Life let us cherish."
Malvine smiled as she caught sight of the little idyll, and turning to
Wilhelm, who was gazing dreamily into the quiet sunny beauty of the
surrounding scene: "Can you imagine any more delightful occupation on a
spring day like this," she said, "than to go love-making like those two
little people over there?"
A shadow passed over Wilhelm's face. He saw himself lying in the high
grass under a wide-spreading tree in St. Valery, and over him there
hovered a white hand that strewed him with fresh blossoms.
At that instant they heard a little frightened cry, followed
immediately by a second one, and then a gurgle. Both sprang to their
feet, and Malvine uttered a piercing shriek of terror. Right in front
of them, not more than a step from the terrace, they saw Willy in the
midst of a whirl of foam which he had churned up round him with his
desperate, struggling little limbs. His arms were tossing wildly above
the water, but the head with its floating golden curls dipped under
from time to time, and the little distorted mouth opened for an
agonized breath and scream, only to be stopped by the in-rushing water.
The boat rocking violently close by explained with sufficient clearness
how the accident had happened. The boy had clambered on to the edge of
the boat to rock himself, had overbalanced and fallen into the water,
and in his struggles had already drifted some paces from the shore.
Fido stood barking and gasping on the step and dipping his paws into
the water only to draw them out again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account