Read Ebook: Alide: an episode of Goethe's life. by Lazarus Emma

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ribable radiance caused by the perfect blending of the divine tints of gold and pink and white, added to the brightness of the large eyes, which made her the lovely vision that she seemed at this moment to Steck; for her features were more irregular than those of either her mother or her sister: the nose was short and slightly upturned, her nationality strongly marked in the breadth of the upper part of the face, and the mouth a trifle large. But then the teeth were brilliant , and the full chin was cloven by a dimple. Like Rahel, she "wore nothing but German," as they termed it, though the national attire was almost obsolete in Alsace. A full white skirt, with a furbelow, stopped just short of the dainty ankles, disclosing the neatest little feet, and a close-fitting white bodice and coquettish black taffeta apron completed her costume. Her broad-brimmed straw hat was slung over her arm, and its long blue ribbons added the only touch of color that she wore.

"Thus truly a most charming star arose in this rural heaven," Steck wrote many years later, in describing this exquisite apparition of youth and grace as she first stood before him. And such was the substance, if not the form, of his thought as his eyes rested upon her. But the next moment, for the first time since his disguise, the consciousness of his own appearance overpowered him with shame and confusion, and he felt the hot blood tingle in his face. Where were now the glib speech, the insinuating address, the manly assurance and self-confidence that had grown upon him with the knowledge of his gifts and had never before failed him? It was like a disagreeable dream to hear the mention of his assumed name, to see this beautiful creature make him a graceful reverence, and to feel so keenly the ridiculousness of his own position, as he returned with much constraint her salutation. In spite of her costume, she seemed city-bred, for her greeting was quite different from the rustic cordiality of her mother and sister, and he fancied he detected lurking around the corners of her mouth a mischievous smile.

"So you have come back at last," began Rahel, with no little irritation; "I suppose it is nothing to you that we have been watching for you since sunset, and imagining a thousand impossible accidents."

"I am sorry to have made you uneasy, Rahel," answered Alide, quietly.

"What new folly or sentimentalism has kept you out till this hour?" persisted Rahel, her ill humor increased by her sister's imperturbable composure.

It was evident that Alide's intuitive refinement prevented her displaying before a stranger any impatient temper. She loosened her hat from her arm, laid it on the table, and, turning to her mother, kissed her cheek like a child. "Mamma," said she, "I am really sorry that I should have distressed you. Did you not know that Goetz was with me? I only went to the village, and, as Herr Waldstein said papa was engaged with a strange gentleman, I took the road behind the house, without disturbing him to tell him where I had gone. Besides, the days seem to grow short so suddenly."

"Well, my child," replied Madame Duroc, returning her caress, "another time you will try to be more thoughtful: we will say no more about it now." And she glanced significantly at her elder daughter. Rahel shrugged her shoulders, as much as to say, "It is always the same but the mother's calm decision sufficed to disperse at once the little cloud, and the family were soon chatting together in the gayest and most friendly way about uncles, aunts, cousins, gossips, and guests, and Steck learned how much he had to promise himself from so numerous and lively a circle.

Max was entirely at his ease, and added his comments and scraps of news as familiarly as the rest; but Steck felt himself quite apart from the cheerful group, especially as the consciousness of his false position confused him more and more. As he listened, he took occasion to observe them all, and thought with inexpressible astonishment that he was actually in the Wakefield family. To be sure, the pastor had not the earnest gravity and discretion of Dr. Primrose; but it would be difficult to find in real life a single person uniting all the admirable qualities of the English vicar; and, besides, the characters of Goldsmith were only reversed, for Frau Duroc had all the dignity and seriousness that her husband lacked. One could not see her without at once honoring and reverencing her, and the results of high breeding were visible in her manner, which was gentle, unconstrained, pleasant, and attractive. If Rahel had not the celebrated beauty of Olivia, yet she was pretty, lively, and impetuous; her gestures were more animated, her voice had a shriller ring, her laugh was more frequent, her manners more coquettish, than her sister's; and these peculiarities, added to the scarlet ribbons twisted in her brown hair, and the sparkling vivacity of her merry dark eyes, gave a somewhat over-pronounced, provincial tone to her appearance. However, her spirits were so high, and she prattled on with such a sprightly pleasantry, that Waldstein was bewitched, and Steck himself might have been attracted by her picturesque individuality had it not been for Alide. She would answer well, he thought, for another Sophia; for all that is said of Sophia is that she is amiable; and who was ever amiable in the original signification of the word--worthy to be loved--if Alide were not?

"It is a shame to play a joke upon such good people," said Steck to himself, fancying it was his conscience that pricked him, when it was only his vanity that was aroused; and, when all eyes were turned from him, he quickly removed the gold spectacles and passed his hand lightly through his hair. As he did so, Max looked at him and smiled maliciously, but discreetly held his peace.

For some time Alide had taken little part in the conversation, and had answered absently the direct questions addressed to her. "That strange young doctor,"--she was thinking, and it was her conscience, not her vanity, that spoke,--"he is bashful, to be sure, and he blushes like a girl; but is it kind in us to leave him there alone? Papa seems to have forgotten his presence, and mamma is always so quiet. I must try myself to make him feel a little more at home." And she rose from her low chair at the pastor's feet and moved towards Steck. But as she looked at him she drew back and almost lost courage, startled at the transformation which the pseudo-doctor had undergone. The rapid movement of his hand had sufficed to change the whole appearance of his head. His brown hair waved naturally in soft curls, and though the sudden glance of his full, deeply-set eyes was peculiarly keen and penetrating, yet the drooping lids and heavy lashes gave them in repose an indescribably gentle expression. Perhaps she would not have arisen at all if she had known he looked like that. But it was too late to return. He was sitting by the open harpsichord, and had taken up the song that lay upon it.

"Can you play yourself, Dr. Steck?" she asked.

His habitual tact and ease were restored to him by the young girl's expression of surprise, which he had not failed to notice.

"I play after a fashion," he replied; "I cannot pretend to much skill."

"But you will let us judge for ourselves?" pleaded she, with a winning smile.

"Surely, mademoiselle, if it pleases you." And he went to seat himself before the instrument.

"What is this?" interrupted the pastor, turning towards them. "Why, Alide, you certainly will not ask the guest to furnish the entertainment? You must serve him first yourself, with a performance or a song."

"Indeed, I am not in the mood," remonstrated Alide, "but I will do my best." And without affectation she placed herself before the harpischord.

It was a primitive, tinkling little affair, evidently neglected by the schoolmaster, who should have tuned it long since. Alide played a couple of pieces in the ordinary mechanical style of country amateurs, and then sang with rather more sentiment a brief, tender, melancholy song. But Steck had little knowledge of the art, and if the performance had been faultless its merits would have been lost upon him. He scarcely knew how or what the girl was singing; he heard, or rather felt, the fresh clear voice ring through his brain; he watched the dainty white hands resting lightly on the old black keys, he noted the dewy, earnest eyes, the brightly flushed face, the royal little head, and at that moment for him there was nothing else in the world.

"Ah!" she cried, suddenly, "I cannot succeed. I am not in the vein." And she rose with a smile, or rather, as Steck said, "with that touch of serene joy that ever reposed on her countenance." "I cannot play; and yet it is not the fault of the harpsichord or my master. Let us go into the open air, and I will sing you one of my Alsatian songs,--they sound much better there."

He followed her with alacrity. The moist freshness of the twilight breeze, rich with the heavy fragrance of the honeysuckle overhead, blew towards them as Steck opened the door, and they stood out together in the porch. Around the wide gray meadows the mountains loomed huge and sombre against the faded sky, and the moon, still rosy from the vapors of the horizon, was slowly floating upward. Alide raised her head to see if any stars were yet shining, and all the white purity of heaven, which was neither light nor color, but something between the two, descended like a benediction upon the sweet flower-face. In her blithe, child-like voice, that vibrated with infinitely more mellowness in the large air, she began her favorite Alsatian ballad:

"I come from a forest as dark as the night, And, believe me, I love thee, my only delight"--

caroling forth the refrain with the clear flute-notes of a bird. It had a strange, powerful effect upon the artist's impressionable temperament. When the song was ended he did not speak.

"Why do you not thank me for my performance? I have done my best," she said, innocently, turning quickly around and looking him full in the face. His eyes were quite wet, and his whole frame was trembling with excitement.

"It is too beautiful," he said, in a low voice.

"Let us go in," exclaimed Alide, abruptly. "It is chilly out here."

At the supper-table Alide sat directly opposite him, and as she noted his demure appearance an unaccountable fear and trouble overcame her. And yet a powerful fascination led her eyes constantly towards his face, until she found herself forgetting the food before her and blushing with shame lest her preoccupation had been remarked. As the wine flowed freely, by imperceptible degrees his countenance became again mobile and eloquent as it had flashed upon her in the porch.

In the midst of supper the door was opened, and a lad of about seventeen sprang into the room, nodded in a half-shy half-familiar way to Steck and Waldstein, and seated himself boldly among them. "What, Moses, too!" exclaimed Steck, involuntarily.

"How do you mean?" asked the pastor, with surprise. "This is my son Otto."

"Oh, sir, I beg your pardon," replied Steck, with a laugh. "It is a foolish habit I have of trying to realize the ideal world. I have lately been reading a charming story of English life,--the description of a country parson's home and family,--and I seem to be among them all since I have been with you. This brave lad was the only one wanting to complete the novelist's group."

"That is a fantastic trick," said Dr. Duroc. "Since you have such romantic tastes, I have no doubt you will be delighted to visit the interesting localities about us here. Not a hill, a grove, nor a waterfall but has its own tradition; my girls can tell you them all."

"I have, indeed, too much pleasure to promise myself here," answered Steck, eagerly. "But when will you allow me to guide you through my beloved Strasburg? There, too, every stone in the streets has its history."

"My girls are not partial to a town-life," said Madame Duroc. "Their city cousins are always begging them to go, yet I cannot prevail on them to leave the parsonage."

"I cannot abide it!" cried Rahel. "It is very well for Cousins Anna and Gretchen; they have adopted all the French modes; but as for poor Alide and myself, we feel like peasants in our German."

"Nevertheless," interposed. Alide, gently, "you are very kind to ask us, Dr. Steck; and if we ever do find ourselves in Strasburg we may call upon you to remember your promise."

"Steck," interrupted Max, in a dry, quiet tone, from the opposite side of the table, "don't you think you would like to see the meadows by moonlight? Since we have all finished our supper, what does madame say to a walk in the fields?"

"Oh, charming!" exclaimed Rahel; but Frau Duroc rose silently, and Alide, who had sat with downcast eyes and abated breath, started and looked up with a bewildered sort of disappointment. Again she saw the strange student blush like a girl, and cast, as it were, a mask of dulness over his face. The fire died out from his eyes, a constrained, unpleasant expression replaced the ardent enthusiasm that had ennobled every feature, and once more the shy, awkward Dr. Steck was standing before her.

A MOONLIGHT WALK

There was a little confusion in the hall, of shawl-wrappings and head-coverings, and injunctions from Madame Duroc to her daughters to beware of the wet grass and the dripping leaves.

"I cannot get this hood over my hair," cried Alide, who had thrown a white cloak over her shoulders and was vainly trying to draw the hood over her high braids. "Mamma, it is a mild, soft evening. I will go just as I am." And so the whole party went out into the bright night.

The moon was by this time high in the heavens; the meadows were bathed in a lustrous haze, the brook glittered from unexpected places, the vineyard was full of black shadows, and the trees of the orchard allowed broken rays to fall between their branches, checkering the colorless turf with patches of light and darkness. The sound of the brook stumbling over its pebbles, of the pleasant little gusts of breeze as they went shuddering through the crisp foliage, the sudden soft thump of an apple dropping on the grass, and the incessant song of the crickets, were all that could be heard even in the intense quietness of the autumn night.

"Let us go towards the vineyard," suggested Madame Duroc; "Rahel has taken the other path, but Dr. Steck should see the pretty outlook from the opposite side of the trellises. Otto, give me your arm, so that I may not step upon the grass; the dew is almost like rain. Dr. Steck, if you follow us you will see the prospect to advantage."

"Go," said the pastor. "I will wait here till you come back. I have not much relish for these damp walks." And Steck, with Alide upon his arm, followed Madame Duroc and her son through the moonlit lanes. He looked down at the girl's face beside him, with her hair gleaming like pale gold, and the liquid lustre in her eyes which only the moon can shed. About her form everything was white and shadowy as her thin cloak was lifted and fluttered around her by the cool air. He felt the elastic spring of her gait timed perfectly with his own footsteps, the scarcely perceptible pressure of her arm upon his own, the nearness of the warm, bright head, and a delicious joy possessed him. But Alide had not recovered from the disturbing sense of fear with which this strange young man inspired her, and she was resolved not to allow the sweet influences of the scene and hour to work upon herself or her companion. Almost as volubly as Rahel, and as little subdued by the wonderful charm of the night, she prattled artlessly about all that concerned her daily life. In the perfect stillness, her mother, a few steps in advance, could have heard every word she uttered.

"Of course you will know us all," she said, "for whenever a stranger stops with us he is sure to return often and become familiar with our whole family circle. There are so many of us, uncles, aunts, and cousins included, that we make quite a little world of our own."

"And among them all," said Steck, in a low, earnest tone, "is there not one who attracts you particularly?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Alide, "and many more than one. If you could only know my aunt Christiane! She is fully sixty years old, and beautiful as an angel. She had a strange, tragic story connected with her youth; but the longer she lives the more peaceful life becomes to her, she says. And, indeed, the mutual devotion between herself and her two sons seems enough to compensate for many, many trials of the past."

"And they:--your cousins," interposed Steck, "are they also such romantic characters?"

"Dr. Steck, you must not laugh at my enthusiasm," said she, seriously: "my cousins are--what such a mother must make them." And Steck fancied it was confusion that made her draw her cloak closer about her and quicken her steps.

"Forgive me," he said; "I know I have no claim upon your friendship, your regard, but when I hear you talk of this happily-united circle I cannot overcome a painful regret for all I have lost in only now becoming acquainted with so much that is good. I have been a great deal alone,--that is to say, in thought and feeling; and I might almost say, if it were not presuming upon your kindness, that it is a certain selfish jealousy which I feel in realizing this confiding interchange of sympathies."

"In that case," responded Alide, with great composure, "I can promise you that all our family will extend their friendship and respect to whoever deserves and needs it."

He did not reply; but no silence ensued, for she grew more and more talkative in proportion as his reserve increased.

When they reached the vineyard they found that the thick shadows of the grape-leaves made it too dark for them to enter, and Madame Duroc proposed that they should return at once to the house. Then followed a simple incident, now familiar to the world as the memorable events of history. It is but just to say that Steck at the time did not analyze the tender, sincere emotion which it excited in his breast; but in his artist-mind everything photographed itself with such distinctness that almost a lifetime later it recurred to him, and he transferred it to his Homeric page in the exquisite lines which all of us know. There were some large stones, roughly hewn to serve as steps, at the entrance of the vineyard, and they were descending these, when Alide's foot slipped, and she fell in his arms. For a second he supported her, with her hair close to his lips, her trembling form palpitating in his grasp.

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