The German Pioneers: A Tale of the Mohawk. Spielhagen Friedrich
master. What shall I begin with? Yes, that is it. So, it will soon begin to look more cheerful."
She turned to the hearth and in a few minutes had made a bright fire with the dry, prepared pine wood that lay near. Then she took from the hook the kettle that hung by a chain against the wall and filled it half full of water, which she drew from a pump that stood directly beside the hearth. She sought and soon found whatever else was needed for the preparation of the evening meal. She was uncertain of the number for whom she was to provide. She finally concluded that six would be the correct number: Lambert's parents, his brother Conrad, of whom he had spoken a couple of times, Lambert himself, and perhaps there might be another member of the family, or they might bring a guest with them. When she had finished this work she began to put the room in order, but only what would come right with but little labor. "For," said she, "I have no right to do it, and they might be displeased with me."
She had thus quietly labored for a quarter of an hour, and as there was for the moment nothing more to do and the water in the kettle was boiling, she went to the hearth and looked at the flaming fire, thinking that it must at least be time for Lambert to return. She heard a noise behind her. She turned half around and was greatly frightened when she saw, but a few steps from her, instead of Lambert, a stranger staring at her without moving, with a look of such wonder, as though he did not believe his own eyes. The light of the pine sticks burning with a bright flame fell full upon him. It was fortunate for Catherine that, the same moment, she saw that the giant-like man, clothed in a peculiar half-farmer, half-Indian garb, was quite young, and that his sunburned face was handsome, and that his great, wondering eyes had a merry look.
And now the young giant leaned his rifle, which he had allowed to slip to the floor, against the table, gave his strong hands a ringing slap, broke out in very loud laughter, threw himself into a chair which cracked in spite of its strong construction, sprang up again and approached the maiden, who drew back somewhat, again began to laugh, though not so loud, then was silent, shook his short, brown locks and said:
"Lambert has done this well; but where is the other one?"
Catherine did not answer. She did not know what to think of the words of the young man though they affected her disagreeably, and her heart began to beat powerfully.
The young giant looked about the room as though searching whether any one were hidden there. He then again directed his glances toward Catherine, but with a different expression in the large eyes which now shone with a deeper light. He said through his white teeth:
"You are handsome, girl. I have never before seen anything so beautiful. What is your name?"
"Catherine," said the young maiden, who felt that she must say something. "Catherine Weise. You are Conrad, Lambert's brother. I see it by the resemblance. Your brother Lambert has been very kind to me--very kind. We have just arrived. He has gone to put the horse in the stable. I think he will soon be here. You should have met him. Will the others also come soon?"
"Who should come?" asked Conrad.
"Your parents," said Catherine. She said it very faintly, fear, increasing every moment, almost strangling her.
Conrad showed his white teeth. "Our parents!" cried he, "our parents! They are long since dead. You must be satisfied with us two."
"I will look for Lambert," said Catherine, and tried to pass Conrad to the door. Conrad stepped in her way.
"So," said he smiling provokingly, "then Lambert has brought you along for himself, the cunning fellow--and I must look further. Now, as for myself, I am the younger man and can wait a little; but one kiss, beautiful sister-in-law, that you must give me--that is the least."
He stretched out his powerful hands and with giant strength insolently drew the resisting girl to him and kissed her glowing cheeks.
At this moment the water, which for a long time had simmered, noisily, sissing and whizzing, poured over the edge of the kettle in a large swell into the fire which it almost extinguished. A thick, gray vapor, through which the light of the fire looked red, rose and filled the room. Catherine tore herself loose, or was torn loose, she could not tell which; but there were now two persons there struggling together, and the other might well be Lambert. She also thought she had heard Lambert call her name, and so again, as outside the evening wind fanned her cheeks glowing with anger and shame.
Within, the vapor had disappeared. Conrad, having disengaged himself with a powerful effort from his assailant, fell laughing on his neck.
"Lambert, dear, best Lambert!"
"Let me go!" said Lambert, freeing himself from the embrace. "Let me go. Catherine!"
He looked with wandering, anxious eyes about the poorly lighted room.
"She has gone out," said Conrad. "I will bring her again for you."
"No, no, I will, I must," called Lambert, already at the door. "At least take me along--I beg you, Conrad, let me. I will afterwards explain everything to you. Catherine! For the mercy of God! She may have fallen into the creek!"
"Stupid stuff!" said Conrad, who, less excited than his brother, had cast his eyes, sharp as those of a falcon, in every direction. "There she sits, there, do you see?"
"I will go to her alone."
"You may, so far as I am concerned. And Lambert, listen, have you not also brought me a wife?"
But Lambert was already hastening with beating heart to the place where he saw Catherine sit, or lie, he could not tell which, on account of the distance and the evening twilight which now prevailed.
Catherine had run straight forward from the hill on which the house stood until she saw the creek at her feet. She now ran along its edge, scarcely knowing what she wished to do, or whither to go, driven by the painful feeling that the man whom she had trusted as she did her God, had deceived her. She could not make it clear to herself. Everything had come so quickly--had passed like a shadow in the smoke and mist from the fire on the hearth. What she had conceived to be a family, consisted of two brothers fighting with each other--fighting on her account. And this was the end of her long pilgrimage, which she had begun in such a hopeful spirit--with a constantly increasing confidence--yes, at last with wonderful joyfulness. This the end! "O, my God, my God!" groaned the young girl, stopping and looking anxiously into the wilderness which in fearful silence surrounded her, the night with its gathering darkness settling down upon her. "O, my God, my God!"
A bridge, consisting of an immense tree trunk, led across the creek at the place where she now was. She had already set one foot on the dangerous crossing when it suddenly became dark before her eyes. Involuntarily she turned and sank back on her knees, laying her head against the trunk of the tree. Her senses forsook her.
Then, as if from a great distance, she heard her name called, "Catherine!" Again, but now quite near, "Catherine!" She opened her eyes. Near her in the grass kneeled Lambert. He had seized her powerless hands. His long, smooth, brown hair fluttered confusedly in the evening wind about his pale, anxious face.
"Catherine," he said again, "can you forgive me?" She looked at him. She wished to say: "Why have you done this to me?" But her heart was too full. Two large tears rolled down her cheeks. Others followed them unrestrained. She wished to withdraw her hands from those of Lambert. He, however, in his desperation, held her fast, and in a despairing voice, cried: "For God's sake, Catherine, listen to me. I meant it well. I wanted to tell you a hundred times, but I could not. I thought you would not so willingly go with me if you knew the actual state of things. I endured a great fear, as you may have perceived, when we passed through Albany and Schenectady and the valley of the Mohawk, where they all know me. I always went first into the houses to beg the people not to speak to you of my situation. To-day I left the road and came on through the woods so that nobody here on the creek should meet me. It was not right; it was very foolish; it was bad in me that I did not requite your confidence with confidence on my part; but I did not know how to help myself. For God's sake, forgive me, Catherine."
She had now withdrawn her hands and laid them across her breast. Lambert had risen. He