Withered Leaves: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3)Gottschall, Rudolf von
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Withered Leaves: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3)
Gottschall, Rudolf von
German fiction -- Translations into English
But he told himself that this girl was not more mentally deranged than
all who are animated with a blind, senseless passion; that she since
that visit to her attic chamber, since he had rejected her insane
offers of love, had brooded upon revenge against him, and had executed
it on his wedding day. The mixture of love and hatred, he knew was not
only peculiar to those whose minds are disordered, but in all moody,
narrow ones it works like an accumulated combustible, which at the
first shock explodes, scattering all into ruins.
"I might be superstitious," thought he to himself, "she always brings
evil and ruin to that which I love."
"Giulia," then he cried suddenly, "where are you, my sweet wife? You
live, then is all well!"
And he clasped her in his arms, while the morning sun rose glowingly
red on the horizon above the smoking Castle ruins, the closely
thronging crowd, and the corpse of halfwitted Kätchen, the water nymph,
who had died in the fire.
CHAPTER XI.
A LEGACY.
The sight of the ruins, constantly before the eyes of the newly-married
couple, must have given a bitter flavour to their honeymoon.
And yet, Blanden was happier than he had ever been, in the possession,
which he believed to be ensured, of a beloved wife. He gazed upon the
Castle ruins, upon the ruins of his past, but in his Giulia's smile he
saw the promise of an abiding, beautiful future.
The Ordensburg, the dining-hall, the Madonna's image, all should rise
anew in the old form out of the rubbish. To attain this Blanden had
sent for architects, who were well-known artists, to Kulmitten, so as
to restore the building in accordance with the old foundations. Giulia
took warm interest in all these plans, and often looked over Blanden's
shoulder at the sketches of elevations over which he pored. Of course
no art could compensate for the value of its historical age and
associations, with the dining-hall the poetry of the olden days was
destroyed, the new creation could but become a clever imitation.
Several friends, especially Wegen and Olga, too, sometimes came to
visit them, but the intercourse was not very lively, and Blanden wished
to live alone with his love, and the object of that love. Often they
sailed upon the lake or walked alone in the woods, upon the oak tree
dykes, past the ponds filled with tall reeds; in that solitude which
reminded her of primeval forests, Giulia forgot the world, the spell of
her doom, the secret menaces of fate; and when Blanden's fowling piece
brought down the water-fowl, and the broad belt of the fir forest sent
back the echoes of the shot, Giulia felt as glad and as free as if she
were living with a settler in the back woods, and as though prairie
fires blazed between her and human society.
Owing to the fire and its mysterious cause, Kulmitten had fallen into
still worse repute amongst the proprietors and their wives in the
neighbourhood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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