" And she turned away and looked
maliciously
at the deep
valley where the railway train was rushing by.
valley where the railway train was rushing by.
Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen
"She could not keep me when I was a
child; I will not give myself up to her now I am a man. "
Darkness came on, the rain fell, and then it began to snow, and
the whiteness dazzled the eyes.
"Give me your hand," said the maiden; "I will help you to
mount. " And he felt the touch of her icy fingers.
"You help me," cried Rudy; "I do not yet require a woman to help
me to climb. " And he stepped quickly forwards away from her.
The drifting snow-shower fell like a veil between them, the wind
whistled, and behind him he could hear the maiden laughing and
singing, and the sound was most strange to hear.
"It certainly must be a spectre or a servant of the Ice Maiden,"
thought Rudy, who had heard such things talked about when he was a
little boy, and had stayed all night on the mountain with the guides.
The snow fell thicker than ever, the clouds lay beneath him; he
looked back, there was no one to be seen, but he heard sounds of
mocking laughter, which were not those of a human voice.
When Rudy at length reached the highest part of the mountain,
where the path led down to the valley of the Rhone, the snow had
ceased, and in the clear heavens he saw two bright stars twinkling.
They reminded him of Babette and of himself, and of his future
happiness, and his heart glowed at the thought.
VI. THE VISIT TO THE MILL
"What beautiful things you have brought home! " said his old
foster-mother; and her strange-looking eagle-eyes sparkled, while
she wriggled and twisted her skinny neck more quickly and strangely
than ever. "You have brought good luck with you, Rudy. I must give you
a kiss, my dear boy. "
Rudy allowed himself to be kissed; but it could be seen by his
countenance that he only endured the infliction as a homely duty.
"How handsome you are, Rudy! " said the old woman.
"Don't flatter," said Rudy, with a laugh; but still he was
pleased.
"I must say once more," said the old woman, "that you are very
lucky. "
"Well, in that I believe you are right," said he, as he thought of
Babette. Never had he felt such a longing for that deep valley as he
now had. "They must have returned home by this time," said he to
himself, "it is already two days over the time which they fixed
upon. I must go to Bex. "
So Rudy set out to go to Bex; and when he arrived there, he
found the miller and his daughter at home. They received him kindly,
and brought him many greetings from their friends at Interlachen.
Babette did not say much. She seemed to have become quite silent;
but her eyes spoke, and that was quite enough for Rudy. The miller had
generally a great deal to talk about, and seemed to expect that
every one should listen to his jokes, and laugh at them; for was not
he the rich miller? But now he was more inclined to hear Rudy's
adventures while hunting and travelling, and to listen to his
descriptions of the difficulties the chamois-hunter has to overcome on
the mountain-tops, or of the dangerous snow-drifts which the wind
and weather cause to cling to the edges of the rocks, or to lie in the
form of a frail bridge over the abyss beneath. The eyes of the brave
Rudy sparkled as he described the life of a hunter, or spoke of the
cunning of the chamois and their wonderful leaps; also of the powerful
fohn and the rolling avalanche. He noticed that the more he described,
the more interested the miller became, especially when he spoke of the
fierce vulture and of the royal eagle. Not far from Bex, in the canton
Valais, was an eagle's nest, more curiously built under a high,
over-hanging rock. In this nest was a young eagle; but who would
venture to take it? A young Englishman had offered Rudy a whole
handful of gold, if he would bring him the young eagle alive.
"There is a limit to everything," was Rudy's reply. "The eagle
could not be taken; it would be folly to attempt it. "
The wine was passed round freely, and the conversation kept up
pleasantly; but the evening seemed too short for Rudy, although it was
midnight when he left the miller's house, after this his first visit.
While the lights in the windows of the miller's house still
twinkled through the green foliage, out through the open skylight came
the parlor-cat on to the roof, and along the water-pipe walked the
kitchen-cat to meet her.
"What is the news at the mill? " asked the parlor-cat. "Here in the
house there is secret love-making going on, which the father knows
nothing about. Rudy and Babette have been treading on each other's
paws, under the table, all the evening. They trod on my tail twice,
but I did not mew; that would have attracted notice. "
"Well, I should have mewed," said the kitchen-cat.
"What might suit the kitchen would not suit the parlor," said
the other. "I am quite curious to know what the miller will say when
he finds out this engagement. "
Yes, indeed; what would the miller say? Rudy himself was anxious
to know that; but to wait till the miller heard of it from others
was out of the question. Therefore, not many days after this visit, he
was riding in the omnibus that runs between the two cantons, Valais
and Vaud. These cantons are separated by the Rhone, over which is a
bridge that unites them. Rudy, as usual, had plenty of courage, and
indulged in pleasant thoughts of the favorable answer he should
receive that evening. And when the omnibus returned, Rudy was again
seated in it, going homewards; and at the same time the parlor-cat
at the miller's house ran out quickly, crying,--
"Here, you from the kitchen, what do you think? The miller knows
all now. Everything has come to a delightful end. Rudy came here
this evening, and he and Babette had much whispering and secret
conversation together. They stood in the path near the miller's
room. I lay at their feet; but they had no eyes or thoughts for me.
"'I will go to your father at once,' said he; 'it is the most
honorable way. '
"'Shall I go with you? ' asked Babette; 'it will give you courage. '
"'I have plenty of courage,' said Rudy; 'but if you are with me,
he must be friendly, whether he says Yes or No. '
"So they turned to go in, and Rudy trod heavily on my tail; he
certainly is very clumsy. I mewed; but neither he nor Babette had
any ears for me. They opened the door, and entered together. I was
before them, and jumped on the back of a chair. I hardly know what
Rudy said; but the miller flew into a rage, and threatened to kick him
out of the house. He told him he might go to the mountains, and look
after the chamois, but not after our little Babette. "
"And what did they say? Did they speak? " asked the kitchen-cat.
"What did they say! why, all that people generally do say when
they go a-wooing--'I love her, and she loves me; and when there is
milk in the can for one, there is milk in the can for two. '
"'But she is so far above you,' said the miller; 'she has heaps of
gold, as you know. You should not attempt to reach her. '
"'There is nothing so high that a man cannot reach, if he will,'
answered Rudy; for he is a brave youth.
"'Yet you could not reach the young eagle,' said the miller,
laughing. 'Babette is higher than the eagle's nest. '
"'I will have them both,' said Rudy.
"'Very well; I will give her to you when you bring me the young
eaglet alive,' said the miller; and he laughed till the tears stood in
his eyes. 'But now I thank you for this visit, Rudy; and if you come
to-morrow, you will find nobody at home. Good-bye, Rudy. '
"Babette also wished him farewell; but her voice sounded as
mournful as the mew of a little kitten that has lost its mother.
"'A promise is a promise between man and man,' said Rudy. 'Do
not weep, Babette; I shall bring the young eagle. '
"'You will break your neck, I hope,' said the miller, 'and we
shall be relieved from your company. '
"I call that kicking him out of the house," said the parlor-cat.
"And now Rudy is gone, and Babette sits and weeps, while the miller
sings German songs that he learnt on his journey; but I do not trouble
myself on the matter,--it would be of no use. "
"Yet, for all that, it is a very strange affair," said the
kitchen-cat.
VII. THE EAGLE'S NEST
From the mountain-path came a joyous sound of some person
whistling, and it betokened good humor and undaunted courage. It was
Rudy, going to meet his friend Vesinaud. "You must come and help,"
said he. "I want to carry off the young eaglet from the top of the
rock. We will take young Ragli with us. "
"Had you not better first try to take down the moon? That would be
quite as easy a task," said Vesinaud. "You seem to be in good
spirits. "
"Yes, indeed I am. I am thinking of my wedding. But to be serious,
I will tell you all about it, and how I am situated. "
Then he explained to Vesinaud and Ragli what he wished to do,
and why.
"You are a daring fellow," said they; "but it is no use; you
will break your neck. "
"No one falls, unless he is afraid," said Rudy.
So at midnight they set out, carrying with them poles, ladders,
and ropes. The road lay amidst brushwood and underwood, over rolling
stones, always upwards higher and higher in the dark night. Waters
roared beneath them, or fell in cascades from above. Humid clouds were
driving through the air as the hunters reached the precipitous ledge
of the rock. It was even darker here, for the sides of the rocks
almost met, and the light penetrated only through a small opening at
the top. At a little distance from the edge could be heard the sound
of the roaring, foaming waters in the yawning abyss beneath them.
The three seated themselves on a stone, to await in stillness the dawn
of day, when the parent eagle would fly out, as it would be
necessary to shoot the old bird before they could think of gaining
possession of the young one. Rudy sat motionless, as if he had been
part of the stone on which he sat. He held his gun ready to fire, with
his eyes fixed steadily on the highest point of the cliff, where the
eagle's nest lay concealed beneath the overhanging rock.
The three hunters had a long time to wait. At last they heard a
rustling, whirring sound above them, and a large hovering object
darkened the air. Two guns were ready to aim at the dark body of the
eagle as it rose from the nest. Then a shot was fired; for an
instant the bird fluttered its wide-spreading wings, and seemed as
if it would fill up the whole of the chasm, and drag down the
hunters in its fall. But it was not so; the eagle sunk gradually
into the abyss beneath, and the branches of trees and bushes were
broken by its weight. Then the hunters roused themselves: three of the
longest ladders were brought and bound together; the topmost ring of
these ladders would just reach the edge of the rock which hung over
the abyss, but no farther. The point beneath which the eagle's nest
lay sheltered was much higher, and the sides of the rock were as
smooth as a wall. After consulting together, they determined to bind
together two more ladders, and to hoist them over the cavity, and so
form a communication with the three beneath them, by binding the upper
ones to the lower. With great difficulty they contrived to drag the
two ladders over the rock, and there they hung for some moments,
swaying over the abyss; but no sooner had they fastened them together,
than Rudy placed his foot on the lowest step.
It was a bitterly cold morning; clouds of mist were rising from
beneath, and Rudy stood on the lower step of the ladder as a fly rests
on a piece of swinging straw, which a bird may have dropped from the
edge of the nest it was building on some tall factory chimney; but the
fly could fly away if the straw were shaken, Rudy could only break his
neck. The wind whistled around him, and beneath him the waters of
the abyss, swelled by the thawing of the glaciers, those palaces of
the Ice Maiden, foamed and roared in their rapid course. When Rudy
began to ascend, the ladder trembled like the web of the spider,
when it draws out the long, delicate threads; but as soon as he
reached the fourth of the ladders, which had been bound together, he
felt more confidence,--he knew that they had been fastened securely by
skilful hands. The fifth ladder, that appeared to reach the nest,
was supported by the sides of the rock, yet it swung to and fro, and
flapped about like a slender reed, and as if it had been bound by
fishing lines. It seemed a most dangerous undertaking to ascend it,
but Rudy knew how to climb; he had learnt that from the cat, and he
had no fear. He did not observe Vertigo, who stood in the air behind
him, trying to lay hold of him with his outstretched polypous arms.
When at length he stood on the topmost step of the ladder, he
found that he was still some distance below the nest, and not even
able to see into it. Only by using his hands and climbing could he
possibly reach it. He tried the strength of the stunted trees, and the
thick underwood upon which the nest rested, and of which it was
formed, and finding they would support his weight, he grasped them
firmly, and swung himself up from the ladder till his head and
breast were above the nest, and then what an overpowering stench
came from it, for in it lay the putrid remains of lambs, chamois,
and birds. Vertigo, although he could not reach him, blew the
poisonous vapor in his face, to make him giddy and faint; and beneath,
in the dark, yawning deep, on the rushing waters, sat the Ice
Maiden, with her long, pale, green hair falling around her, and her
death-like eyes fixed upon him, like the two barrels of a gun. "I have
thee now," she cried.
In a corner of the eagle's nest sat the young eaglet, a large
and powerful bird, though still unable to fly. Rudy fixed his eyes
upon it, held on by one hand with all his strength, and with the other
threw a noose round the young eagle. The string slipped to its legs.
Rudy tightened it, and thus secured the bird alive. Then flinging
the sling over his shoulder, so that the creature hung a good way down
behind him, he prepared to descend with the help of a rope, and his
foot soon touched safely the highest step of the ladder. Then Rudy,
remembering his early lesson in climbing, "Hold fast, and do not
fear," descended carefully down the ladders, and at last stood
safely on the ground with the young living eaglet, where he was
received with loud shouts of joy and congratulations.
VIII. WHAT FRESH NEWS THE PARLOR-CAT HAD TO TELL
"There is what you asked for," said Rudy, as he entered the
miller's house at Bex, and placed on the floor a large basket. He
removed the lid as he spoke, and a pair of yellow eyes, encircled by a
black ring, stared forth with a wild, fiery glance, that seemed
ready to burn and destroy all that came in its way. Its short,
strong beak was open, ready to bite, and on its red throat were
short feathers, like stubble.
"The young eaglet! " cried the miller.
Babette screamed, and started back, while her eyes wandered from
Rudy to the bird in astonishment.
"You are not to be discouraged by difficulties, I see," said the
miller.
"And you will keep your word," replied Rudy. "Each has his own
characteristic, whether it is honor or courage. "
"But how is it you did not break your neck? " asked the miller.
"Because I held fast," answered Rudy; "and I mean to hold fast
to Babette. "
"You must get her first," said the miller, laughing; and Babette
thought this a very good sign.
"We must take the bird out of the basket," said she. "It is
getting into a rage; how its eyes glare. How did you manage to conquer
it? "
Then Rudy had to describe his adventure, and the miller's eyes
opened wide as he listened.
"With your courage and your good fortune you might win three
wives," said the miller.
"Oh, thank you," cried Rudy.
"But you have not won Babette yet," said the miller, slapping
the young Alpine hunter on the shoulder playfully.
"Have you heard the fresh news at the mill? " asked the
parlor-cat of the kitchen-cat. "Rudy has brought us the young eagle,
and he is to take Babette in exchange. They kissed each other in the
presence of the old man, which is as good as an engagement. He was
quite civil about it; drew in his claws, and took his afternoon nap,
so that the two were left to sit and wag their tails as much as they
pleased. They have so much to talk about that it will not be
finished till Christmas. " Neither was it finished till Christmas.
The wind whirled the faded, fallen leaves; the snow drifted in the
valleys, as well as upon the mountains, and the Ice Maiden sat in
the stately palace which, in winter time, she generally occupied.
The perpendicular rocks were covered with slippery ice, and where in
summer the stream from the rocks had left a watery veil, icicles large
and heavy hung from the trees, while the snow-powdered fir-trees
were decorated with fantastic garlands of crystal. The Ice Maiden rode
on the howling wind across the deep valleys, the country, as far as
Bex, was covered with a carpet of snow, so that the Ice Maiden could
follow Rudy, and see him, when he visited the mill; and while in the
room at the miller's house, where he was accustomed to spend so much
of his time with Babette. The wedding was to take place in the
following summer, and they heard enough of it, for so many of their
friends spoke of the matter.
Then came sunshine to the mill. The beautiful Alpine roses
bloomed, and joyous, laughing Babette, was like the early spring,
which makes all the birds sing of summer time and bridal days.
"How those two do sit and chatter together," said the
parlor-cat; "I have had enough of their mewing. "
IX. THE ICE MAIDEN
The walnut and chestnut trees, which extend from the bridge of St.
Maurice, by the river Rhone, to the shores of the lake of Geneva, were
already covered with the delicate green garlands of early spring, just
bursting into bloom, while the Rhone rushed wildly from its source
among the green glaciers which form the ice palace of the Ice
Maiden. She sometimes allows herself to be carried by the keen wind to
the lofty snow-fields, where she stretches herself in the sunshine
on the soft snowy-cushions. From thence she throws her far-seeing
glance into the deep valley beneath, where human beings are busily
moving about like ants on a stone in the sun. "Spirits of strength, as
the children of the sun call you," cried the Ice Maiden, "ye are but
worms! Let but a snow-ball roll, and you and your houses and your
towns are crushed and swept away. " And she raised her proud head,
and looked around her with eyes that flashed death from their
glance. From the valley came a rumbling sound; men were busily at work
blasting the rocks to form tunnels, and laying down roads for the
railway. "They are playing at work underground, like moles," said she.
"They are digging passages beneath the earth, and the noise is like
the reports of cannons. I shall throw down my palaces, for the
clamor is louder than the roar of thunder. " Then there ascended from
the valley a thick vapor, which waved itself in the air like a
fluttering veil. It rose, as a plume of feathers, from a steam engine,
to which, on the lately-opened railway, a string of carriages was
linked, carriage to carriage, looking like a winding serpent. The
train shot past with the speed of an arrow. "They play at being
masters down there, those spirits of strength! " exclaimed the Ice
Maiden; "but the powers of nature are still the rulers. " And she
laughed and sang till her voice sounded through the valley, and people
said it was the rolling of an avalanche. But the children of the sun
sang in louder strains in praise of the mind of man, which can span
the sea as with a yoke, can level mountains, and fill up valleys. It
is the power of thought which gives man the mastery over nature.
Just at this moment there came across the snow-field, where the
Ice Maiden sat, a party of travellers. They had bound themselves
fast to each other, so that they looked like one large body on the
slippery plains of ice encircling the deep abyss.
"Worms! " exclaimed the Ice Maiden. "You, the lords of the powers
of nature!
" And she turned away and looked maliciously at the deep
valley where the railway train was rushing by. "There they sit,
these thoughts! " she exclaimed. "There they sit in their power over
nature's strength. I see them all. One sits proudly apart, like a
king; others sit together in a group; yonder, half of them are asleep;
and when the steam dragon stops, they will get out and go their way.
The thoughts go forth into the world," and she laughed.
"There goes another avalanche," said those in the valley beneath.
"It will not reach us," said two who sat together behind the steam
dragon. "Two hearts and one beat," as people say. They were Rudy and
Babette, and the miller was with them. "I am like the luggage," said
he; "I am here as a necessary appendage. "
"There sit those two," said the Ice Maiden. "Many a chamois have I
crushed. Millions of Alpine roses have I snapped and broken off; not a
root have I spared. I know them all, and their thoughts, those spirits
of strength! " and again she laughed.
"There rolls another avalanche," said those in the valley.
X. THE GODMOTHER
At Montreux, one of the towns which encircle the northeast part of
the lake of Geneva, lived Babette's godmother, the noble English lady,
with her daughters and a young relative. They had only lately arrived,
yet the miller had paid them a visit, and informed them of Babette's
engagement to Rudy. The whole story of their meeting at Interlachen,
and his brave adventure with the eaglet, were related to them, and
they were all very much interested, and as pleased about Rudy and
Babette as the miller himself. The three were invited to come to
Montreux; it was but right for Babette to become acquainted with her
godmother, who wished to see her very much. A steam-boat started
from the town of Villeneuve, at one end of the lake of Geneva, and
arrived at Bernex, a little town beyond Montreux, in about half an
hour. And in this boat, the miller, with his daughter and Rudy, set
out to visit her godmother. They passed the coast which has been so
celebrated in song. Here, under the walnut-trees, by the deep blue
lake, sat Byron, and wrote his melodious verses about the prisoner
confined in the gloomy castle of Chillon. Here, where Clarens, with
its weeping-willows, is reflected in the clear water, wandered
Rousseau, dreaming of Heloise. The river Rhone glides gently by
beneath the lofty snow-capped hills of Savoy, and not far from its
mouth lies a little island in the lake, so small that, seen from the
shore, it looks like a ship. The surface of the island is rocky; and
about a hundred years ago, a lady caused the ground to be covered with
earth, in which three acacia-trees were planted, and the whole
enclosed with stone walls. The acacia-trees now overshadow every
part of the island. Babette was enchanted with the spot; it seemed
to her the most beautiful object in the whole voyage, and she
thought how much she should like to land there. But the steam-ship
passed it by, and did not stop till it reached Bernex. The little
party walked slowly from this place to Montreux, passing the sun-lit
walls with which the vineyards of the little mountain town of Montreux
are surrounded, and peasants' houses, overshadowed by fig-trees,
with gardens in which grow the laurel and the cypress.
Halfway up the hill stood the boarding-house in which Babette's
godmother resided. She was received most cordially; her godmother
was a very friendly woman, with a round, smiling countenance. When a
child, her head must have resembled one of Raphael's cherubs; it was
still an angelic face, with its white locks of silvery hair. The
daughters were tall, elegant, slender maidens.
The young cousin, whom they had brought with them, was dressed
in white from head to foot; he had golden hair and golden whiskers,
large enough to be divided amongst three gentlemen; and he began
immediately to pay the greatest attention to Babette.
Richly bound books, note-paper, and drawings, lay on the large
table. The balcony window stood open, and from it could be seen the
beautiful wide extended lake, the water so clear and still, that the
mountains of Savoy, with their villages, woods, and snow-crowned
peaks, were clearly reflected in it.
Rudy, who was usually so lively and brave, did not in the least
feel himself at home; he acted as if he were walking on peas, over a
slippery floor. How long and wearisome the time appeared; it was
like being in a treadmill. And then they went out for a walk, which
was very slow and tedious. Two steps forward and one backwards had
Rudy to take to keep pace with the others. They walked down to
Chillon, and went over the old castle on the rocky island. They saw
the implements of torture, the deadly dungeons, the rusty fetters in
the rocky walls, the stone benches for those condemned to death, the
trap-doors through which the unhappy creatures were hurled upon iron
spikes, and impaled alive. They called looking at all these a
pleasure. It certainly was the right place to visit. Byron's poetry
had made it celebrated in the world. Rudy could only feel that it
was a place of execution. He leaned against the stone framework of the
window, and gazed down into the deep, blue water, and over to the
little island with the three acacias, and wished himself there, away
and free from the whole chattering party. But Babette was most
unusually lively and good-tempered.
"I have been so amused," she said.
The cousin had found her quite perfect.
"He is a perfect fop," said Rudy; and this was the first time Rudy
had said anything that did not please Babette.
The Englishman had made her a present of a little book, in
remembrance of their visit to Chillon. It was Byron's poem, "The
Prisoner of Chillon," translated into French, so that Babette could
read it.
"The book may be very good," said Rudy; "but that finely combed
fellow who gave it to you is not worth much. "
"He looks something like a flour-sack without any flour," said the
miller, laughing at his own wit. Rudy laughed, too, for so had he
appeared to him.
XI. THE COUSIN
When Rudy went a few days after to pay a visit to the mill, he
found the young Englishman there. Babette was just thinking of
preparing some trout to set before him. She understood well how to
garnish the dish with parsley, and make it look quite tempting. Rudy
thought all this quite unnecessary. What did the Englishman want
there? What was he about? Why should he be entertained, and waited
upon by Babette? Rudy was jealous, and that made Babette happy. It
amused her to discover all the feelings of his heart; the strong
points and weak ones. Love was to her as yet only a pastime, and she
played with Rudy's whole heart. At the same time it must be
acknowledged that her fortune, her whole life, her inmost thoughts,
her best and most noble feelings in this world were all for him. Still
the more gloomy he looked, the more her eyes laughed. She could almost
have kissed the fair Englishman, with the golden whiskers, if by so
doing she could have put Rudy in a rage, and made him run out of the
house. That would have proved how much he loved her. All this was
not right in Babette, but she was only nineteen years of age, and
she did not reflect on what she did, neither did she think that her
conduct would appear to the young Englishman as light, and not even
becoming the modest and much-loved daughter of the miller.
The mill at Bex stood in the highway, which passed under the
snow-clad mountains, and not far from a rapid mountain-stream, whose
waters seemed to have been lashed into a foam like soap-suds. This
stream, however, did not pass near enough to the mill, and therefore
the mill-wheel was turned by a smaller stream which tumbled down the
rocks on the opposite side, where it was opposed by a stone
mill-dam, and obtained greater strength and speed, till it fell into a
large basin, and from thence through a channel to the mill-wheel. This
channel sometimes overflowed, and made the path so slippery that any
one passing that way might easily fall in, and be carried towards
the mill wheel with frightful rapidity. Such a catastrophe nearly
happened to the young Englishman. He had dressed himself in white
clothes, like a miller's man, and was climbing the path to the
miller's house, but he had never been taught to climb, and therefore
slipped, and nearly went in head-foremost. He managed, however, to
scramble out with wet sleeves and bespattered trousers. Still, wet and
splashed with mud, he contrived to reach Babette's window, to which he
had been guided by the light that shone from it. Here he climbed the
old linden-tree that stood near it, and began to imitate the voice
of an owl, the only bird he could venture to mimic. Babette heard
the noise, and glanced through the thin window curtain; but when she
saw the man in white, and guessed who he was, her little heart beat
with terror as well as anger. She quickly put out the light, felt if
the fastening of the window was secure, and then left him to howl as
long as he liked. How dreadful it would be, thought Babette, if Rudy
were here in the house. But Rudy was not in the house. No, it was much
worse, he was outside, standing just under the linden-tree. He was
speaking loud, angry words. He could fight, and there might be murder!
Babette opened the window in alarm, and called Rudy's name; she told
him to go away, she did not wish him to remain there.
"You do not wish me to stay," cried he; "then this is an
appointment you expected--this good friend whom you prefer to me.
Shame on you, Babette! "
"You are detestable! " exclaimed Babette, bursting into tears.
"Go away. I hate you. "
"I have not deserved this," said Rudy, as he turned away, his
cheeks burning, and his heart like fire.
Babette threw herself on the bed, and wept bitterly. "So much as I
loved thee, Rudy, and yet thou canst think ill of me. "
Thus her anger broke forth; it relieved her, however: otherwise
she would have been more deeply grieved; but now she could sleep
soundly, as youth only can sleep.
XII. EVIL POWERS
Rudy left Bex, and took his way home along the mountain path.
The air was fresh, but cold; for here amidst the deep snow, the Ice
Maiden reigned. He was so high up that the large trees beneath him,
with their thick foliage, appeared like garden plants, and the pines
and bushes even less. The Alpine roses grew near the snow, which lay
in detached stripes, and looked like linen laid out to bleach. A
blue gentian grew in his path, and he crushed it with the butt end
of his gun. A little higher up, he espied two chamois. Rudy's eyes
glistened, and his thoughts flew at once in a different direction; but
he was not near enough to take a sure aim. He ascended still higher,
to a spot where a few rough blades of grass grew between the blocks of
stone and the chamois passed quietly on over the snow-fields. Rudy
walked hurriedly, while the clouds of mist gathered round him.
Suddenly he found himself on the brink of a precipitous rock. The rain
was falling in torrents. He felt a burning thirst, his head was hot,
and his limbs trembled with cold. He seized his hunting-flask, but
it was empty; he had not thought of filling it before ascending the
mountain. He had never been ill in his life, nor ever experienced such
sensations as those he now felt. He was so tired that he could
scarcely resist lying down at his full length to sleep, although the
ground was flooded with the rain. Yet when he tried to rouse himself a
little, every object around him danced and trembled before his eyes.
Suddenly he observed in the doorway of a hut newly built under the
rock, a young maiden. He did not remember having seen this hut before,
yet there it stood; and he thought, at first, that the young maiden
was Annette, the schoolmaster's daughter, whom he had once kissed in
the dance. The maiden was not Annette; yet it seemed as if he had seen
her somewhere before, perhaps near Grindelwald, on the evening of
his return home from Interlachen, after the shooting-match.
"How did you come here? " he asked.
"I am at home," she replied; "I am watching my flocks. "
"Your flocks! " he exclaimed; "where do they find pasture? There is
nothing here but snow and rocks. "
"Much you know of what grows here," she replied, laughing. "Not
far beneath us there is beautiful pasture-land. My goats go there. I
tend them carefully; I never miss one. What is once mine remains
mine. "
"You are bold," said Rudy.
"And so are you," she answered.
"Have you any milk in the house? " he asked; "if so, give me some
to drink; my thirst is intolerable. "
"I have something better than milk," she replied, "which I will
give you. Some travellers who were here yesterday with their guide
left behind them a half a flask of wine, such as you have never
tasted. They will not come back to fetch it, I know, and I shall not
drink it; so you shall have it. "
Then the maiden went to fetch the wine, poured some into a
wooden cup, and offered it to Rudy.
"How good it is! " said he; "I have never before tasted such
warm, invigorating wine. " And his eyes sparkled with new life; a
glow diffused itself over his frame; it seemed as if every sorrow,
every oppression were banished from his mind, and a fresh, free nature
were stirring within him. "You are surely Annette, the schoolmaster's
daughter," cried he; "will you give me a kiss? "
"Yes, if you will give me that beautiful ring which you wear on
your finger. "
"My betrothal ring? " he replied.
"Yes, just so," said the maiden, as she poured out some more wine,
and held it to his lips. Again he drank, and a living joy streamed
through every vein.
"The whole world is mine, why therefore should I grieve? "
thought he. "Everything is created for our enjoyment and happiness.
The stream of life is a stream of happiness; let us flow on with it to
joy and felicity. "
Rudy gazed on the young maiden; it was Annette, and yet it was not
Annette; still less did he suppose it was the spectral phantom, whom
he had met near Grindelwald. The maiden up here on the mountain was
fresh as the new fallen snow, blooming as an Alpine rose, and as
nimble-footed as a young kid. Still, she was one of Adam's race,
like Rudy. He flung his arms round the beautiful being, and gazed into
her wonderfully clear eyes,--only for a moment; but in that moment
words cannot express the effect of his gaze. Was it the spirit of life
or of death that overpowered him? Was he rising higher, or sinking
lower and lower into the deep, deadly abyss? He knew not; but the
walls of ice shone like blue-green glass; innumerable clefts yawned
around him, and the water-drops tinkled like the chiming of church
bells, and shone clearly as pearls in the light of a pale-blue
flame. The Ice Maiden, for she it was, kissed him, and her kiss sent a
chill as of ice through his whole frame. A cry of agony escaped from
him; he struggled to get free, and tottered from her. For a moment all
was dark before his eyes, but when he opened them again it was
light, and the Alpine maiden had vanished. The powers of evil had
played their game; the sheltering hut was no more to be seen. The
water trickled down the naked sides of the rocks, and snow lay thickly
all around. Rudy shivered with cold; he was wet through to the skin;
and his ring was gone,--the betrothal ring that Babette had given him.
His gun lay near him in the snow; he took it up and tried to discharge
it, but it missed fire. Heavy clouds lay on the mountain clefts,
like firm masses of snow. Upon one of these Vertigo sat, lurking after
his powerless prey, and from beneath came a sound as if a piece of
rock had fallen from the cleft, and was crushing everything that stood
in its way or opposed its course.
But, at the miller's, Babette sat alone and wept. Rudy had not
been to see her for six days. He who was in the wrong, and who ought
to ask her forgiveness; for did she not love him with her whole heart?
XIII. AT THE MILL
"What strange creatures human beings are," said the parlor-cat
to the kitchen-cat; "Babette and Rudy have fallen out with each other.
She sits and cries, and he thinks no more about her. "
"That does not please me to hear," said the kitchen-cat.
"Nor me either," replied the parlor-cat; "but I do not take it
to heart. Babette may fall in love with the red whiskers, if she
likes, but he has not been here since he tried to get on the roof. "
The powers of evil carry on their game both around us and within
us. Rudy knew this, and thought a great deal about it. What was it
that had happened to him on the mountain? Was it really a ghostly
apparition, or a fever dream? Rudy knew nothing of fever, or any other
ailment. But, while he judged Babette, he began to examine his own
conduct. He had allowed wild thoughts to chase each other in his
heart, and a fierce tornado to break loose. Could he confess to
Babette, indeed, every thought which in the hour of temptation might
have led him to wrong doing? He had lost her ring, and that very
loss had won him back to her. Could she expect him to confess? He felt
as if his heart would break while he thought of it, and while so
many memories lingered on his mind. He saw her again, as she once
stood before him, a laughing, spirited child; many loving words, which
she had spoken to him out of the fulness of her love, came like a
ray of sunshine into his heart, and soon it was all sunshine as he
thought of Babette. But she must also confess she was wrong; that
she should do.
He went to the mill--he went to confession. It began with a
kiss, and ended with Rudy being considered the offender. It was such a
great fault to doubt Babette's truth--it was most abominable of him.
Such mistrust, such violence, would cause them both great unhappiness.
This certainly was very true, she knew that; and therefore Babette
preached him a little sermon, with which she was herself much
amused, and during the preaching of which she looked quite lovely. She
acknowledged, however, that on one point Rudy was right. Her
godmother's nephew was a fop: she intended to burn the book which he
had given her, so that not the slightest thing should remain to remind
her of him.
"Well, that quarrel is all over," said the kitchen-cat.
child; I will not give myself up to her now I am a man. "
Darkness came on, the rain fell, and then it began to snow, and
the whiteness dazzled the eyes.
"Give me your hand," said the maiden; "I will help you to
mount. " And he felt the touch of her icy fingers.
"You help me," cried Rudy; "I do not yet require a woman to help
me to climb. " And he stepped quickly forwards away from her.
The drifting snow-shower fell like a veil between them, the wind
whistled, and behind him he could hear the maiden laughing and
singing, and the sound was most strange to hear.
"It certainly must be a spectre or a servant of the Ice Maiden,"
thought Rudy, who had heard such things talked about when he was a
little boy, and had stayed all night on the mountain with the guides.
The snow fell thicker than ever, the clouds lay beneath him; he
looked back, there was no one to be seen, but he heard sounds of
mocking laughter, which were not those of a human voice.
When Rudy at length reached the highest part of the mountain,
where the path led down to the valley of the Rhone, the snow had
ceased, and in the clear heavens he saw two bright stars twinkling.
They reminded him of Babette and of himself, and of his future
happiness, and his heart glowed at the thought.
VI. THE VISIT TO THE MILL
"What beautiful things you have brought home! " said his old
foster-mother; and her strange-looking eagle-eyes sparkled, while
she wriggled and twisted her skinny neck more quickly and strangely
than ever. "You have brought good luck with you, Rudy. I must give you
a kiss, my dear boy. "
Rudy allowed himself to be kissed; but it could be seen by his
countenance that he only endured the infliction as a homely duty.
"How handsome you are, Rudy! " said the old woman.
"Don't flatter," said Rudy, with a laugh; but still he was
pleased.
"I must say once more," said the old woman, "that you are very
lucky. "
"Well, in that I believe you are right," said he, as he thought of
Babette. Never had he felt such a longing for that deep valley as he
now had. "They must have returned home by this time," said he to
himself, "it is already two days over the time which they fixed
upon. I must go to Bex. "
So Rudy set out to go to Bex; and when he arrived there, he
found the miller and his daughter at home. They received him kindly,
and brought him many greetings from their friends at Interlachen.
Babette did not say much. She seemed to have become quite silent;
but her eyes spoke, and that was quite enough for Rudy. The miller had
generally a great deal to talk about, and seemed to expect that
every one should listen to his jokes, and laugh at them; for was not
he the rich miller? But now he was more inclined to hear Rudy's
adventures while hunting and travelling, and to listen to his
descriptions of the difficulties the chamois-hunter has to overcome on
the mountain-tops, or of the dangerous snow-drifts which the wind
and weather cause to cling to the edges of the rocks, or to lie in the
form of a frail bridge over the abyss beneath. The eyes of the brave
Rudy sparkled as he described the life of a hunter, or spoke of the
cunning of the chamois and their wonderful leaps; also of the powerful
fohn and the rolling avalanche. He noticed that the more he described,
the more interested the miller became, especially when he spoke of the
fierce vulture and of the royal eagle. Not far from Bex, in the canton
Valais, was an eagle's nest, more curiously built under a high,
over-hanging rock. In this nest was a young eagle; but who would
venture to take it? A young Englishman had offered Rudy a whole
handful of gold, if he would bring him the young eagle alive.
"There is a limit to everything," was Rudy's reply. "The eagle
could not be taken; it would be folly to attempt it. "
The wine was passed round freely, and the conversation kept up
pleasantly; but the evening seemed too short for Rudy, although it was
midnight when he left the miller's house, after this his first visit.
While the lights in the windows of the miller's house still
twinkled through the green foliage, out through the open skylight came
the parlor-cat on to the roof, and along the water-pipe walked the
kitchen-cat to meet her.
"What is the news at the mill? " asked the parlor-cat. "Here in the
house there is secret love-making going on, which the father knows
nothing about. Rudy and Babette have been treading on each other's
paws, under the table, all the evening. They trod on my tail twice,
but I did not mew; that would have attracted notice. "
"Well, I should have mewed," said the kitchen-cat.
"What might suit the kitchen would not suit the parlor," said
the other. "I am quite curious to know what the miller will say when
he finds out this engagement. "
Yes, indeed; what would the miller say? Rudy himself was anxious
to know that; but to wait till the miller heard of it from others
was out of the question. Therefore, not many days after this visit, he
was riding in the omnibus that runs between the two cantons, Valais
and Vaud. These cantons are separated by the Rhone, over which is a
bridge that unites them. Rudy, as usual, had plenty of courage, and
indulged in pleasant thoughts of the favorable answer he should
receive that evening. And when the omnibus returned, Rudy was again
seated in it, going homewards; and at the same time the parlor-cat
at the miller's house ran out quickly, crying,--
"Here, you from the kitchen, what do you think? The miller knows
all now. Everything has come to a delightful end. Rudy came here
this evening, and he and Babette had much whispering and secret
conversation together. They stood in the path near the miller's
room. I lay at their feet; but they had no eyes or thoughts for me.
"'I will go to your father at once,' said he; 'it is the most
honorable way. '
"'Shall I go with you? ' asked Babette; 'it will give you courage. '
"'I have plenty of courage,' said Rudy; 'but if you are with me,
he must be friendly, whether he says Yes or No. '
"So they turned to go in, and Rudy trod heavily on my tail; he
certainly is very clumsy. I mewed; but neither he nor Babette had
any ears for me. They opened the door, and entered together. I was
before them, and jumped on the back of a chair. I hardly know what
Rudy said; but the miller flew into a rage, and threatened to kick him
out of the house. He told him he might go to the mountains, and look
after the chamois, but not after our little Babette. "
"And what did they say? Did they speak? " asked the kitchen-cat.
"What did they say! why, all that people generally do say when
they go a-wooing--'I love her, and she loves me; and when there is
milk in the can for one, there is milk in the can for two. '
"'But she is so far above you,' said the miller; 'she has heaps of
gold, as you know. You should not attempt to reach her. '
"'There is nothing so high that a man cannot reach, if he will,'
answered Rudy; for he is a brave youth.
"'Yet you could not reach the young eagle,' said the miller,
laughing. 'Babette is higher than the eagle's nest. '
"'I will have them both,' said Rudy.
"'Very well; I will give her to you when you bring me the young
eaglet alive,' said the miller; and he laughed till the tears stood in
his eyes. 'But now I thank you for this visit, Rudy; and if you come
to-morrow, you will find nobody at home. Good-bye, Rudy. '
"Babette also wished him farewell; but her voice sounded as
mournful as the mew of a little kitten that has lost its mother.
"'A promise is a promise between man and man,' said Rudy. 'Do
not weep, Babette; I shall bring the young eagle. '
"'You will break your neck, I hope,' said the miller, 'and we
shall be relieved from your company. '
"I call that kicking him out of the house," said the parlor-cat.
"And now Rudy is gone, and Babette sits and weeps, while the miller
sings German songs that he learnt on his journey; but I do not trouble
myself on the matter,--it would be of no use. "
"Yet, for all that, it is a very strange affair," said the
kitchen-cat.
VII. THE EAGLE'S NEST
From the mountain-path came a joyous sound of some person
whistling, and it betokened good humor and undaunted courage. It was
Rudy, going to meet his friend Vesinaud. "You must come and help,"
said he. "I want to carry off the young eaglet from the top of the
rock. We will take young Ragli with us. "
"Had you not better first try to take down the moon? That would be
quite as easy a task," said Vesinaud. "You seem to be in good
spirits. "
"Yes, indeed I am. I am thinking of my wedding. But to be serious,
I will tell you all about it, and how I am situated. "
Then he explained to Vesinaud and Ragli what he wished to do,
and why.
"You are a daring fellow," said they; "but it is no use; you
will break your neck. "
"No one falls, unless he is afraid," said Rudy.
So at midnight they set out, carrying with them poles, ladders,
and ropes. The road lay amidst brushwood and underwood, over rolling
stones, always upwards higher and higher in the dark night. Waters
roared beneath them, or fell in cascades from above. Humid clouds were
driving through the air as the hunters reached the precipitous ledge
of the rock. It was even darker here, for the sides of the rocks
almost met, and the light penetrated only through a small opening at
the top. At a little distance from the edge could be heard the sound
of the roaring, foaming waters in the yawning abyss beneath them.
The three seated themselves on a stone, to await in stillness the dawn
of day, when the parent eagle would fly out, as it would be
necessary to shoot the old bird before they could think of gaining
possession of the young one. Rudy sat motionless, as if he had been
part of the stone on which he sat. He held his gun ready to fire, with
his eyes fixed steadily on the highest point of the cliff, where the
eagle's nest lay concealed beneath the overhanging rock.
The three hunters had a long time to wait. At last they heard a
rustling, whirring sound above them, and a large hovering object
darkened the air. Two guns were ready to aim at the dark body of the
eagle as it rose from the nest. Then a shot was fired; for an
instant the bird fluttered its wide-spreading wings, and seemed as
if it would fill up the whole of the chasm, and drag down the
hunters in its fall. But it was not so; the eagle sunk gradually
into the abyss beneath, and the branches of trees and bushes were
broken by its weight. Then the hunters roused themselves: three of the
longest ladders were brought and bound together; the topmost ring of
these ladders would just reach the edge of the rock which hung over
the abyss, but no farther. The point beneath which the eagle's nest
lay sheltered was much higher, and the sides of the rock were as
smooth as a wall. After consulting together, they determined to bind
together two more ladders, and to hoist them over the cavity, and so
form a communication with the three beneath them, by binding the upper
ones to the lower. With great difficulty they contrived to drag the
two ladders over the rock, and there they hung for some moments,
swaying over the abyss; but no sooner had they fastened them together,
than Rudy placed his foot on the lowest step.
It was a bitterly cold morning; clouds of mist were rising from
beneath, and Rudy stood on the lower step of the ladder as a fly rests
on a piece of swinging straw, which a bird may have dropped from the
edge of the nest it was building on some tall factory chimney; but the
fly could fly away if the straw were shaken, Rudy could only break his
neck. The wind whistled around him, and beneath him the waters of
the abyss, swelled by the thawing of the glaciers, those palaces of
the Ice Maiden, foamed and roared in their rapid course. When Rudy
began to ascend, the ladder trembled like the web of the spider,
when it draws out the long, delicate threads; but as soon as he
reached the fourth of the ladders, which had been bound together, he
felt more confidence,--he knew that they had been fastened securely by
skilful hands. The fifth ladder, that appeared to reach the nest,
was supported by the sides of the rock, yet it swung to and fro, and
flapped about like a slender reed, and as if it had been bound by
fishing lines. It seemed a most dangerous undertaking to ascend it,
but Rudy knew how to climb; he had learnt that from the cat, and he
had no fear. He did not observe Vertigo, who stood in the air behind
him, trying to lay hold of him with his outstretched polypous arms.
When at length he stood on the topmost step of the ladder, he
found that he was still some distance below the nest, and not even
able to see into it. Only by using his hands and climbing could he
possibly reach it. He tried the strength of the stunted trees, and the
thick underwood upon which the nest rested, and of which it was
formed, and finding they would support his weight, he grasped them
firmly, and swung himself up from the ladder till his head and
breast were above the nest, and then what an overpowering stench
came from it, for in it lay the putrid remains of lambs, chamois,
and birds. Vertigo, although he could not reach him, blew the
poisonous vapor in his face, to make him giddy and faint; and beneath,
in the dark, yawning deep, on the rushing waters, sat the Ice
Maiden, with her long, pale, green hair falling around her, and her
death-like eyes fixed upon him, like the two barrels of a gun. "I have
thee now," she cried.
In a corner of the eagle's nest sat the young eaglet, a large
and powerful bird, though still unable to fly. Rudy fixed his eyes
upon it, held on by one hand with all his strength, and with the other
threw a noose round the young eagle. The string slipped to its legs.
Rudy tightened it, and thus secured the bird alive. Then flinging
the sling over his shoulder, so that the creature hung a good way down
behind him, he prepared to descend with the help of a rope, and his
foot soon touched safely the highest step of the ladder. Then Rudy,
remembering his early lesson in climbing, "Hold fast, and do not
fear," descended carefully down the ladders, and at last stood
safely on the ground with the young living eaglet, where he was
received with loud shouts of joy and congratulations.
VIII. WHAT FRESH NEWS THE PARLOR-CAT HAD TO TELL
"There is what you asked for," said Rudy, as he entered the
miller's house at Bex, and placed on the floor a large basket. He
removed the lid as he spoke, and a pair of yellow eyes, encircled by a
black ring, stared forth with a wild, fiery glance, that seemed
ready to burn and destroy all that came in its way. Its short,
strong beak was open, ready to bite, and on its red throat were
short feathers, like stubble.
"The young eaglet! " cried the miller.
Babette screamed, and started back, while her eyes wandered from
Rudy to the bird in astonishment.
"You are not to be discouraged by difficulties, I see," said the
miller.
"And you will keep your word," replied Rudy. "Each has his own
characteristic, whether it is honor or courage. "
"But how is it you did not break your neck? " asked the miller.
"Because I held fast," answered Rudy; "and I mean to hold fast
to Babette. "
"You must get her first," said the miller, laughing; and Babette
thought this a very good sign.
"We must take the bird out of the basket," said she. "It is
getting into a rage; how its eyes glare. How did you manage to conquer
it? "
Then Rudy had to describe his adventure, and the miller's eyes
opened wide as he listened.
"With your courage and your good fortune you might win three
wives," said the miller.
"Oh, thank you," cried Rudy.
"But you have not won Babette yet," said the miller, slapping
the young Alpine hunter on the shoulder playfully.
"Have you heard the fresh news at the mill? " asked the
parlor-cat of the kitchen-cat. "Rudy has brought us the young eagle,
and he is to take Babette in exchange. They kissed each other in the
presence of the old man, which is as good as an engagement. He was
quite civil about it; drew in his claws, and took his afternoon nap,
so that the two were left to sit and wag their tails as much as they
pleased. They have so much to talk about that it will not be
finished till Christmas. " Neither was it finished till Christmas.
The wind whirled the faded, fallen leaves; the snow drifted in the
valleys, as well as upon the mountains, and the Ice Maiden sat in
the stately palace which, in winter time, she generally occupied.
The perpendicular rocks were covered with slippery ice, and where in
summer the stream from the rocks had left a watery veil, icicles large
and heavy hung from the trees, while the snow-powdered fir-trees
were decorated with fantastic garlands of crystal. The Ice Maiden rode
on the howling wind across the deep valleys, the country, as far as
Bex, was covered with a carpet of snow, so that the Ice Maiden could
follow Rudy, and see him, when he visited the mill; and while in the
room at the miller's house, where he was accustomed to spend so much
of his time with Babette. The wedding was to take place in the
following summer, and they heard enough of it, for so many of their
friends spoke of the matter.
Then came sunshine to the mill. The beautiful Alpine roses
bloomed, and joyous, laughing Babette, was like the early spring,
which makes all the birds sing of summer time and bridal days.
"How those two do sit and chatter together," said the
parlor-cat; "I have had enough of their mewing. "
IX. THE ICE MAIDEN
The walnut and chestnut trees, which extend from the bridge of St.
Maurice, by the river Rhone, to the shores of the lake of Geneva, were
already covered with the delicate green garlands of early spring, just
bursting into bloom, while the Rhone rushed wildly from its source
among the green glaciers which form the ice palace of the Ice
Maiden. She sometimes allows herself to be carried by the keen wind to
the lofty snow-fields, where she stretches herself in the sunshine
on the soft snowy-cushions. From thence she throws her far-seeing
glance into the deep valley beneath, where human beings are busily
moving about like ants on a stone in the sun. "Spirits of strength, as
the children of the sun call you," cried the Ice Maiden, "ye are but
worms! Let but a snow-ball roll, and you and your houses and your
towns are crushed and swept away. " And she raised her proud head,
and looked around her with eyes that flashed death from their
glance. From the valley came a rumbling sound; men were busily at work
blasting the rocks to form tunnels, and laying down roads for the
railway. "They are playing at work underground, like moles," said she.
"They are digging passages beneath the earth, and the noise is like
the reports of cannons. I shall throw down my palaces, for the
clamor is louder than the roar of thunder. " Then there ascended from
the valley a thick vapor, which waved itself in the air like a
fluttering veil. It rose, as a plume of feathers, from a steam engine,
to which, on the lately-opened railway, a string of carriages was
linked, carriage to carriage, looking like a winding serpent. The
train shot past with the speed of an arrow. "They play at being
masters down there, those spirits of strength! " exclaimed the Ice
Maiden; "but the powers of nature are still the rulers. " And she
laughed and sang till her voice sounded through the valley, and people
said it was the rolling of an avalanche. But the children of the sun
sang in louder strains in praise of the mind of man, which can span
the sea as with a yoke, can level mountains, and fill up valleys. It
is the power of thought which gives man the mastery over nature.
Just at this moment there came across the snow-field, where the
Ice Maiden sat, a party of travellers. They had bound themselves
fast to each other, so that they looked like one large body on the
slippery plains of ice encircling the deep abyss.
"Worms! " exclaimed the Ice Maiden. "You, the lords of the powers
of nature!
" And she turned away and looked maliciously at the deep
valley where the railway train was rushing by. "There they sit,
these thoughts! " she exclaimed. "There they sit in their power over
nature's strength. I see them all. One sits proudly apart, like a
king; others sit together in a group; yonder, half of them are asleep;
and when the steam dragon stops, they will get out and go their way.
The thoughts go forth into the world," and she laughed.
"There goes another avalanche," said those in the valley beneath.
"It will not reach us," said two who sat together behind the steam
dragon. "Two hearts and one beat," as people say. They were Rudy and
Babette, and the miller was with them. "I am like the luggage," said
he; "I am here as a necessary appendage. "
"There sit those two," said the Ice Maiden. "Many a chamois have I
crushed. Millions of Alpine roses have I snapped and broken off; not a
root have I spared. I know them all, and their thoughts, those spirits
of strength! " and again she laughed.
"There rolls another avalanche," said those in the valley.
X. THE GODMOTHER
At Montreux, one of the towns which encircle the northeast part of
the lake of Geneva, lived Babette's godmother, the noble English lady,
with her daughters and a young relative. They had only lately arrived,
yet the miller had paid them a visit, and informed them of Babette's
engagement to Rudy. The whole story of their meeting at Interlachen,
and his brave adventure with the eaglet, were related to them, and
they were all very much interested, and as pleased about Rudy and
Babette as the miller himself. The three were invited to come to
Montreux; it was but right for Babette to become acquainted with her
godmother, who wished to see her very much. A steam-boat started
from the town of Villeneuve, at one end of the lake of Geneva, and
arrived at Bernex, a little town beyond Montreux, in about half an
hour. And in this boat, the miller, with his daughter and Rudy, set
out to visit her godmother. They passed the coast which has been so
celebrated in song. Here, under the walnut-trees, by the deep blue
lake, sat Byron, and wrote his melodious verses about the prisoner
confined in the gloomy castle of Chillon. Here, where Clarens, with
its weeping-willows, is reflected in the clear water, wandered
Rousseau, dreaming of Heloise. The river Rhone glides gently by
beneath the lofty snow-capped hills of Savoy, and not far from its
mouth lies a little island in the lake, so small that, seen from the
shore, it looks like a ship. The surface of the island is rocky; and
about a hundred years ago, a lady caused the ground to be covered with
earth, in which three acacia-trees were planted, and the whole
enclosed with stone walls. The acacia-trees now overshadow every
part of the island. Babette was enchanted with the spot; it seemed
to her the most beautiful object in the whole voyage, and she
thought how much she should like to land there. But the steam-ship
passed it by, and did not stop till it reached Bernex. The little
party walked slowly from this place to Montreux, passing the sun-lit
walls with which the vineyards of the little mountain town of Montreux
are surrounded, and peasants' houses, overshadowed by fig-trees,
with gardens in which grow the laurel and the cypress.
Halfway up the hill stood the boarding-house in which Babette's
godmother resided. She was received most cordially; her godmother
was a very friendly woman, with a round, smiling countenance. When a
child, her head must have resembled one of Raphael's cherubs; it was
still an angelic face, with its white locks of silvery hair. The
daughters were tall, elegant, slender maidens.
The young cousin, whom they had brought with them, was dressed
in white from head to foot; he had golden hair and golden whiskers,
large enough to be divided amongst three gentlemen; and he began
immediately to pay the greatest attention to Babette.
Richly bound books, note-paper, and drawings, lay on the large
table. The balcony window stood open, and from it could be seen the
beautiful wide extended lake, the water so clear and still, that the
mountains of Savoy, with their villages, woods, and snow-crowned
peaks, were clearly reflected in it.
Rudy, who was usually so lively and brave, did not in the least
feel himself at home; he acted as if he were walking on peas, over a
slippery floor. How long and wearisome the time appeared; it was
like being in a treadmill. And then they went out for a walk, which
was very slow and tedious. Two steps forward and one backwards had
Rudy to take to keep pace with the others. They walked down to
Chillon, and went over the old castle on the rocky island. They saw
the implements of torture, the deadly dungeons, the rusty fetters in
the rocky walls, the stone benches for those condemned to death, the
trap-doors through which the unhappy creatures were hurled upon iron
spikes, and impaled alive. They called looking at all these a
pleasure. It certainly was the right place to visit. Byron's poetry
had made it celebrated in the world. Rudy could only feel that it
was a place of execution. He leaned against the stone framework of the
window, and gazed down into the deep, blue water, and over to the
little island with the three acacias, and wished himself there, away
and free from the whole chattering party. But Babette was most
unusually lively and good-tempered.
"I have been so amused," she said.
The cousin had found her quite perfect.
"He is a perfect fop," said Rudy; and this was the first time Rudy
had said anything that did not please Babette.
The Englishman had made her a present of a little book, in
remembrance of their visit to Chillon. It was Byron's poem, "The
Prisoner of Chillon," translated into French, so that Babette could
read it.
"The book may be very good," said Rudy; "but that finely combed
fellow who gave it to you is not worth much. "
"He looks something like a flour-sack without any flour," said the
miller, laughing at his own wit. Rudy laughed, too, for so had he
appeared to him.
XI. THE COUSIN
When Rudy went a few days after to pay a visit to the mill, he
found the young Englishman there. Babette was just thinking of
preparing some trout to set before him. She understood well how to
garnish the dish with parsley, and make it look quite tempting. Rudy
thought all this quite unnecessary. What did the Englishman want
there? What was he about? Why should he be entertained, and waited
upon by Babette? Rudy was jealous, and that made Babette happy. It
amused her to discover all the feelings of his heart; the strong
points and weak ones. Love was to her as yet only a pastime, and she
played with Rudy's whole heart. At the same time it must be
acknowledged that her fortune, her whole life, her inmost thoughts,
her best and most noble feelings in this world were all for him. Still
the more gloomy he looked, the more her eyes laughed. She could almost
have kissed the fair Englishman, with the golden whiskers, if by so
doing she could have put Rudy in a rage, and made him run out of the
house. That would have proved how much he loved her. All this was
not right in Babette, but she was only nineteen years of age, and
she did not reflect on what she did, neither did she think that her
conduct would appear to the young Englishman as light, and not even
becoming the modest and much-loved daughter of the miller.
The mill at Bex stood in the highway, which passed under the
snow-clad mountains, and not far from a rapid mountain-stream, whose
waters seemed to have been lashed into a foam like soap-suds. This
stream, however, did not pass near enough to the mill, and therefore
the mill-wheel was turned by a smaller stream which tumbled down the
rocks on the opposite side, where it was opposed by a stone
mill-dam, and obtained greater strength and speed, till it fell into a
large basin, and from thence through a channel to the mill-wheel. This
channel sometimes overflowed, and made the path so slippery that any
one passing that way might easily fall in, and be carried towards
the mill wheel with frightful rapidity. Such a catastrophe nearly
happened to the young Englishman. He had dressed himself in white
clothes, like a miller's man, and was climbing the path to the
miller's house, but he had never been taught to climb, and therefore
slipped, and nearly went in head-foremost. He managed, however, to
scramble out with wet sleeves and bespattered trousers. Still, wet and
splashed with mud, he contrived to reach Babette's window, to which he
had been guided by the light that shone from it. Here he climbed the
old linden-tree that stood near it, and began to imitate the voice
of an owl, the only bird he could venture to mimic. Babette heard
the noise, and glanced through the thin window curtain; but when she
saw the man in white, and guessed who he was, her little heart beat
with terror as well as anger. She quickly put out the light, felt if
the fastening of the window was secure, and then left him to howl as
long as he liked. How dreadful it would be, thought Babette, if Rudy
were here in the house. But Rudy was not in the house. No, it was much
worse, he was outside, standing just under the linden-tree. He was
speaking loud, angry words. He could fight, and there might be murder!
Babette opened the window in alarm, and called Rudy's name; she told
him to go away, she did not wish him to remain there.
"You do not wish me to stay," cried he; "then this is an
appointment you expected--this good friend whom you prefer to me.
Shame on you, Babette! "
"You are detestable! " exclaimed Babette, bursting into tears.
"Go away. I hate you. "
"I have not deserved this," said Rudy, as he turned away, his
cheeks burning, and his heart like fire.
Babette threw herself on the bed, and wept bitterly. "So much as I
loved thee, Rudy, and yet thou canst think ill of me. "
Thus her anger broke forth; it relieved her, however: otherwise
she would have been more deeply grieved; but now she could sleep
soundly, as youth only can sleep.
XII. EVIL POWERS
Rudy left Bex, and took his way home along the mountain path.
The air was fresh, but cold; for here amidst the deep snow, the Ice
Maiden reigned. He was so high up that the large trees beneath him,
with their thick foliage, appeared like garden plants, and the pines
and bushes even less. The Alpine roses grew near the snow, which lay
in detached stripes, and looked like linen laid out to bleach. A
blue gentian grew in his path, and he crushed it with the butt end
of his gun. A little higher up, he espied two chamois. Rudy's eyes
glistened, and his thoughts flew at once in a different direction; but
he was not near enough to take a sure aim. He ascended still higher,
to a spot where a few rough blades of grass grew between the blocks of
stone and the chamois passed quietly on over the snow-fields. Rudy
walked hurriedly, while the clouds of mist gathered round him.
Suddenly he found himself on the brink of a precipitous rock. The rain
was falling in torrents. He felt a burning thirst, his head was hot,
and his limbs trembled with cold. He seized his hunting-flask, but
it was empty; he had not thought of filling it before ascending the
mountain. He had never been ill in his life, nor ever experienced such
sensations as those he now felt. He was so tired that he could
scarcely resist lying down at his full length to sleep, although the
ground was flooded with the rain. Yet when he tried to rouse himself a
little, every object around him danced and trembled before his eyes.
Suddenly he observed in the doorway of a hut newly built under the
rock, a young maiden. He did not remember having seen this hut before,
yet there it stood; and he thought, at first, that the young maiden
was Annette, the schoolmaster's daughter, whom he had once kissed in
the dance. The maiden was not Annette; yet it seemed as if he had seen
her somewhere before, perhaps near Grindelwald, on the evening of
his return home from Interlachen, after the shooting-match.
"How did you come here? " he asked.
"I am at home," she replied; "I am watching my flocks. "
"Your flocks! " he exclaimed; "where do they find pasture? There is
nothing here but snow and rocks. "
"Much you know of what grows here," she replied, laughing. "Not
far beneath us there is beautiful pasture-land. My goats go there. I
tend them carefully; I never miss one. What is once mine remains
mine. "
"You are bold," said Rudy.
"And so are you," she answered.
"Have you any milk in the house? " he asked; "if so, give me some
to drink; my thirst is intolerable. "
"I have something better than milk," she replied, "which I will
give you. Some travellers who were here yesterday with their guide
left behind them a half a flask of wine, such as you have never
tasted. They will not come back to fetch it, I know, and I shall not
drink it; so you shall have it. "
Then the maiden went to fetch the wine, poured some into a
wooden cup, and offered it to Rudy.
"How good it is! " said he; "I have never before tasted such
warm, invigorating wine. " And his eyes sparkled with new life; a
glow diffused itself over his frame; it seemed as if every sorrow,
every oppression were banished from his mind, and a fresh, free nature
were stirring within him. "You are surely Annette, the schoolmaster's
daughter," cried he; "will you give me a kiss? "
"Yes, if you will give me that beautiful ring which you wear on
your finger. "
"My betrothal ring? " he replied.
"Yes, just so," said the maiden, as she poured out some more wine,
and held it to his lips. Again he drank, and a living joy streamed
through every vein.
"The whole world is mine, why therefore should I grieve? "
thought he. "Everything is created for our enjoyment and happiness.
The stream of life is a stream of happiness; let us flow on with it to
joy and felicity. "
Rudy gazed on the young maiden; it was Annette, and yet it was not
Annette; still less did he suppose it was the spectral phantom, whom
he had met near Grindelwald. The maiden up here on the mountain was
fresh as the new fallen snow, blooming as an Alpine rose, and as
nimble-footed as a young kid. Still, she was one of Adam's race,
like Rudy. He flung his arms round the beautiful being, and gazed into
her wonderfully clear eyes,--only for a moment; but in that moment
words cannot express the effect of his gaze. Was it the spirit of life
or of death that overpowered him? Was he rising higher, or sinking
lower and lower into the deep, deadly abyss? He knew not; but the
walls of ice shone like blue-green glass; innumerable clefts yawned
around him, and the water-drops tinkled like the chiming of church
bells, and shone clearly as pearls in the light of a pale-blue
flame. The Ice Maiden, for she it was, kissed him, and her kiss sent a
chill as of ice through his whole frame. A cry of agony escaped from
him; he struggled to get free, and tottered from her. For a moment all
was dark before his eyes, but when he opened them again it was
light, and the Alpine maiden had vanished. The powers of evil had
played their game; the sheltering hut was no more to be seen. The
water trickled down the naked sides of the rocks, and snow lay thickly
all around. Rudy shivered with cold; he was wet through to the skin;
and his ring was gone,--the betrothal ring that Babette had given him.
His gun lay near him in the snow; he took it up and tried to discharge
it, but it missed fire. Heavy clouds lay on the mountain clefts,
like firm masses of snow. Upon one of these Vertigo sat, lurking after
his powerless prey, and from beneath came a sound as if a piece of
rock had fallen from the cleft, and was crushing everything that stood
in its way or opposed its course.
But, at the miller's, Babette sat alone and wept. Rudy had not
been to see her for six days. He who was in the wrong, and who ought
to ask her forgiveness; for did she not love him with her whole heart?
XIII. AT THE MILL
"What strange creatures human beings are," said the parlor-cat
to the kitchen-cat; "Babette and Rudy have fallen out with each other.
She sits and cries, and he thinks no more about her. "
"That does not please me to hear," said the kitchen-cat.
"Nor me either," replied the parlor-cat; "but I do not take it
to heart. Babette may fall in love with the red whiskers, if she
likes, but he has not been here since he tried to get on the roof. "
The powers of evil carry on their game both around us and within
us. Rudy knew this, and thought a great deal about it. What was it
that had happened to him on the mountain? Was it really a ghostly
apparition, or a fever dream? Rudy knew nothing of fever, or any other
ailment. But, while he judged Babette, he began to examine his own
conduct. He had allowed wild thoughts to chase each other in his
heart, and a fierce tornado to break loose. Could he confess to
Babette, indeed, every thought which in the hour of temptation might
have led him to wrong doing? He had lost her ring, and that very
loss had won him back to her. Could she expect him to confess? He felt
as if his heart would break while he thought of it, and while so
many memories lingered on his mind. He saw her again, as she once
stood before him, a laughing, spirited child; many loving words, which
she had spoken to him out of the fulness of her love, came like a
ray of sunshine into his heart, and soon it was all sunshine as he
thought of Babette. But she must also confess she was wrong; that
she should do.
He went to the mill--he went to confession. It began with a
kiss, and ended with Rudy being considered the offender. It was such a
great fault to doubt Babette's truth--it was most abominable of him.
Such mistrust, such violence, would cause them both great unhappiness.
This certainly was very true, she knew that; and therefore Babette
preached him a little sermon, with which she was herself much
amused, and during the preaching of which she looked quite lovely. She
acknowledged, however, that on one point Rudy was right. Her
godmother's nephew was a fop: she intended to burn the book which he
had given her, so that not the slightest thing should remain to remind
her of him.
"Well, that quarrel is all over," said the kitchen-cat.