Page:Select Popular Tales from the German of Musaeus.djvu/47

Rh In an hour,—and there were many such, when she quite forgot her vow, and was recurring with sweet and bitter fancies to the one loved idea, however she esteemed it unworthy her,—she was roused by a low tap at the door. Her mother opened it;—it was Franz; their old neighbour Franz, from the narrow street. He wore a rich dress, and his fine brown curls clustered round his forehead, and seemed to perfume the room. So splendid an appearance betokened some more important object than selling lint. The old lady started—she attempted to speak; but the words faltered on her lips. Mela rose suddenly from her seat;—she blushed and grew pale by turns, but remained silent, as well as her mother. Franz, however, was perfectly at his ease; he now adapted words to the soft melody which he had often played on his lute; and in bold open terms he at length declared his long silent love. Then, turning to the happy mother, he solemnly entreated her consent to his union with her daughter. Next he gave an explanation of all suspicious circumstances, concluding by declaring that the bride for whom preparations had been making was only the fair Mela herself.

On recovering from her surprise, the ceremonious old lady determined, as a matter of propriety, to take one week’s consideration, though tears of joy were in her eyes, and eloquently spoke the consent she could not. Franz, however, became so pressing, that she was compelled to steer a middle course between old custom and propriety and the wishes of the new lover; and she delegated her daughter to give an answer agreeable to herself. A strange revolution had been at work in Mela’s heart since his entrance into the room. No stronger proof of his innocence could be imagined than such a visit; his apparent indifference was all explained. He had been so very assiduous and active in his business, and in preparing also for their marriage, that he had not sooner had time; but there was now no reason why she should refuse her consent.

The happy lovers had now, for the first time, leisure to translate into its proper language the hieroglyphics of their secret correspondence,—which they soon discovered they had already understood,—and to do justice to each other’s sentiments. This supplied them with a pleasant subject of conversation, and it was long before Franz took leave of his amiable bride.

He now wished to meet with his old friend the soldier, whom he had always remembered, though he had apparently neglected him. On his part, the cripple had examined the faces of all the passengers who had appeared on the bridge, without recognising his generous young friend, as he had been led to expect; but the moment he saw him approach, he limped as fast as his crutch could carry him, to bid him welcome; and Franz, kindly hailing the old man, said, “Do you think, friend, you could go with me to the new town on business? you shall be well paid for your trouble?”