Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 137.djvu/377

1885.] hart's-tongue had suffered grievously in the struggle: the broken fronds lay crushed on the ground, all their juicy life stamped out of them in that brief but furious fight. It would be long before they raised their heads again.

There was a silence of some minutes. The last of the daylight was dying fast; the black stone-pines frowned down from their high seats; there was not a sound in the lonely gorge. Overhead the evening stars were beginning slowly to shine; and, as though the valley had been a lake which sent back the image of each star in the sky, the lights below sprang up one by one.

Gretchen sat on the stone with hor hands clasped before her. Her heart beat fast; but it was not with fright now – it was with a sort of nervous expectation. What was Dr Komers going to say next? Was he going to tell her again that he loved her? Ah no! that was to be never again. She had forgotten that, – never again!

"Fräulein Mohr," said Dr Komers, coming back towards her, "it is no wonder that I frightened you to-day; the wonder is rather that I should not have frightened you long ago. Perhaps you have never guessed that I am a passionate man?"

"I have thought so – once before."

Though it was so dark, she blushed crimson; for she was thinking of the scene on the morrow of the Cursalon ball.

"I understand," he said, calmly. "Well, since you have seen me on that day and on this, I had better tell you at once that my temper has been my ruin. It is entirely through an act of passion that I have shipwrecked my sister's life and my own."

He hesitated for a moment before going on. "Perhaps, if it would not weary you too much, I should like to tell you the story of that day. I have not told it to any one yet; but I think you could forgive me better for my occasional violence if you heard the rest. May I tell it to you?"

"Yes, yes; oh, please tell it me!" she said, with an eagerness which surprised him.

"It must be the story of the broken heart that he is going to tell me," thought Gretchen.

Ever since the day of her last passage of arms with Anna Komers, an illogical curiosity had possessed her with regard to that broken heart.

"Please begin," she felt inclined to say. She was as anxious as a child who has been promised a new fairy tale, and half expected the story to start with "Once upon a time."

"Thank you," said Vincenz, as if she had conferred a favour on him. "But it would be imprudent to stay here longer. I will tell you as we walk home. Would you mind making use of my arm to get back through the gorge?"

Gretchen felt stronger now, and rising to her feet, she took the arm which Vincenz almost diffidently offered her. As long as they were clambering up the torrent-bed, there was no possibility of conversation: each difficulty was increased tenfold by the darkness. There were gloomy shadows and sharp rustles all around; but Gretchen never started once. She wondered at the strength of her own nerves. Even if the robber-band had sprung out upon them, she felt as if she could have faced them coolly now. The proofs of strength which Dr Komers had given could not fail to reassure the most timid of female minds. As they passed the circular basin, where in early spring the