Countess Helena, etc

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' STARTED BACK AS THOUGH HE HAD SEEN AN APPARITION. Page 145. COUNTESS HELENA. BY MARION ANDREWS, AUTHOR OF THE QUFST OF JACK HAZELWOOD,' ' COUSIN ISABEL,' ETC. WITH ILLUSTRA TIONS. LONDON : GARDNER, DARTON & CO., 3, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. THE OLD HOUSE IN THE MARKET-PLACE - 9 II. MAX - - - - - - 21 III. A TOWER ON THE RHINE - - -34 iv. Helena's story - - - - 45 v. count JULIUS - - - - - 56 VI. THE EVE OP THE BATTLE - - - 70 VII. THE LOST LETTERS - - - - 83 VIII. TERRIBLE NEWS - - - - 95 IX. CONQUERED ----- 108 X. FLIGHT ----- 122 XI. IN THE BELFRY-TOWER - - - 132 XII. THE END ----- LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE ' STARTED BACK AS THOUGH HE HAD SEEN AN AP- PARITION ' Frontispiece ' HELENA STARTED FROM HER SEAT ' - - 25 ' I PRESUME THAT LETTER WILL NOT REACH ITS DESTINATION?' - - - - - 67 ' IN THE VERY MOMENT OF VICTORY HE WAS SEEN 81 TO FALL

Chapter I. The Old House In The Market-place

' All houses wherein men have lived and died are haunted houses.' It was a sunny day in the early summer of the year 1870. The market-place of the old city of Mayence looked very bright that morning with flowers, which had been brought in soon after daybreak from all the neighbouring villages. It was the great Saturday market, when all prudent housewives were accustomed to lay in their chief supply of flowers and fruit and vegetables for the following week. A very busy and picturesque scene it was ; with the coloured umbrellas over many of the stalls to protect the perishable wares from the sun ; the peasant women with their sunburnt faces, and blue or red kerchiefs round their heads, their short dark skirts and sabots outside their Avhite stockings ; and above all, the masses of beautiful flowers arranged in the most tempt ing order.

There might be seen bunches of wall-flowers, and hyacinths, and pansies, in the most beautiful colours and varieties, with many other plants too numerous to mention. There were cut flowers for the house, and roots for the garden, and plants for the window ; even pot roses with delicate blooms, and azaleas in full blossom might be seen amongst their lowlier neighbours. The eager buyers seemed to be of all classes, from the well-to-do lady, followed by her maid, to the poorest child with only one tiny copper coin in the world ; many of them had great baskets or painted tin cans on their arms in which to carry home their spoils, whilst some few, probably costermongers on a small scale, were provided with low carts drawn by dogs, whose gentle expression of patience and intel- THE OLD HOUSE IN THE MARKET-PLACE 11 ligence made one grieve to see them used as beasts of burden.

Meanwhile the constant hum of voices, and the clatter of the wooden sabots over the stones, gave an air of life and excitement to the whole. So at least thought one who was a silent spectator of the scene ; so close indeed, that she might almost have taken part in the eager bargaining that went on all around, and yet so far off in reality that, as she sadly told herself, she might have been a dweller in another world. A young girl was standing at the window of one of the large, old-fashioned houses by the side of the market-place, chiefly distinguishable amongst the others by the quantity and brilliant polish of the beautiful old brasswork on the door. One narrow gleam of sunlight lighted up the coils of pale golden hair, smoothly twisted round a shapely head, and rested upon a tall, slender figure, clothed in a soft, white woollen dress.

The Countess Helena von Erbach would have been thought beautiful in any land, with her delicate, refined features, her clear though somewhat pale complexion, and her great blue eyes full of thought and feeling. She seemed out of place in that dark old house at Mayence, all panelled with oak almost black with age, and dimly lighted through the low diamond -paned casements. And yet it was her home, her only home ; for she was an orphan, and had been adopted by her aunt Barbara, the wife of the great porcelain manufacturer, Paul Schmidt. This very house had been the abode of the Schmidt family for generations, and had been handed down with the business from father to son. On all sides of the young girl were heirlooms, in the shape of old furniture and family pictures and china, which it would have been thought almost sacrilege for any of the descendants to displace.

There was the great high-backed carved chair, which had been presented by the grateful citizens to Paul's grandfather when he had distinguished himself as chief magistrate of the city. There, in an enamelled case, was the precious thumb-ring of immense size and value, which some former Archbishop of Mayence had presented to a Roman Catholic ancestor of the Schmidts for signal services rendered to the Church. THE OLD HOUSE LN THE MARKETPLACE 13 And so on, all round the room, there was a story connected with almost everything you saw. Hanging above the carved chimneypiece, in the place of honour, was a portrait of Paul Schmidt's mother, a somewhat stern-looking old lady in a close white cap and a stiff black satin gown. A handkerchief was spread out on her knees, on which her hands were laid, and she was sitting bolt upright, as though nothing had ever induced her to unbend from that dignified position.

Helena was haunted by that picture ; the eyes seemed to follow her about and to be a constant reproof of her short comings, and she used to wonder dimly whether, if she lived to be very old, she should ever come to look like that. A passing glance at the old lady's portrait as she turned away from the window reminded her that she had made very little progress with her needlework that morning, and had certainly not finished the task which her aunt Barbara had marked out for her. The Countess Helena sat down again to her frame with a sigh. Oh ! how weary sbe was of that fine embroidery which she had been working at for so many weeks — a copy of one of the old original family chair-covers, which was to be replaced, as it was now so faded and moth-eaten as to be almost beyond recognition. The wrork was a kind of that fine old tapestry on which former generations of good women must have worn out their eyesight and their lives, and their faint hearted successor could only get light enough to do it by taking a seat quite close to the window.

And then it was so tempting to look out on that sunny morning, and to watch the eager, restless life outside, and to wish that she could change places w7ith one of those happy, busy women, selling her flowers in the market place. Poor girl ! There had been but little brightness in her life hitherto. She could just remember her mother, whom she had lost as a young child ; and then her father, nearly heart-broken, had shut himself up in his lonely castle in the Black Forest, with his little daughter as his sole companion. It was a strange life for the child, and she was left very much to her own thoughts and fancies, growing up like a wild flower in the open air, with woods and streams around her. THE OLD HOUSE IN THE MARKET-PLACE 15 But this peaceful time came to an end when her father, the Count Von Erbach, felt it his duty to fight for his country in the war of 1866 against Austria, and was killed in the battle of Koniggriitz.

The estates went to a distant cousin, and the title and a small fortune were all that the young Countess Helena inherited. Her father had left her, as a dying legacy, to the care of his wife's sister, Barbara Schmidt, who had readily accepted the charge and meant to do her duty honestly. But she had never had any children of her own, so that it was perhaps not strange that she should be lacking in motherly love and sympathy. It was a terrible change for poor Helena to be taken away from her old free life, and her aunt Barbara was sorely puzzled to know what to do with this girl of fourteen, who was so unlike anyone she had ever known. At last it was decided that she should be sent to the Moravian school at Neuwied on the Rhine, and there for three years she had been taught and trained, until little outwardly re mained of her former self.

They had not been altogether unhappy years for the young girl, who was very intelligent and took great interest in her studies, while the strict discipline and strong religious teaching had made a deep impression on her mind. Helena had left school the previous autumn full of enthusiasm and high resolves of doing some good work in the world. But, alas for the vanity of human wishes ! she came home to find that her life was all planned and marked out for her. Aunt Barbara was proud of her niece, wdio was now almost eighteen, and of an age to be introduced into the society of Mayence. The good lady derived fresh importance from the interest excited by the girl's beauty and her romantic history, and it must be owned that she liked to speak of her as ' my niece, the Countess Helena von Erbach.' She was ambitious for her, too, and although she herself had every reason to be satisfied with honest plain Paul Schmidt for her own husband, she had set her heart upon a grand match for this stately young creature, who would grace any station.

Meantime, Helena was her constant com panion, was introduced to all her friends, and THE OLD HOUSE IN THE MARKET-PLA CE 17 wTas taken to all the entertainments which the city could offer. Oh ! the weary round of solemn tea drink ings and tedious suppers which the young girl endured during that first winter season at Mayence. By no means the least of her trials was the extreme care with which her aunt Barbara watched over her, never permitting her to go anywhere alone, or even to join in any of the homely outdoor occupations which give an interest to the life of most German women. For instance, when, that very morning, Helena had seen Madam Schmidt prepared to go out marketing, with the maid Gretchen carrying a basket behind her, a great longing for the fresh air and for something active to do had come over her. ' Do let me go with you, Aunt Barbara,' she pleaded. ' What !

Three of us women needed to buy a few flowers and vegetables ! Why, the neighbours would indeed think we were an idle household with nothing to do at home !' was the prompt reply. ' But I could carry the basket instead of ■A Gretchen. I am quite strong enough for that ; it is only such a little way.' ' What are you thinking of, child ? As if I did not know my duty to you better than to suffer you so to demean yourself ! 'But never mind, dear,' she added more kindly, as she saw the girl's look of disappointment, ' you shall go with me this afternoon to pay some visits ; and you will have a quiet time this morning to finish your flower, for there is a good light now, and the embroidery has been getting on very slowly lately.' So they went away and left her, and the Countess Helena sat down again sadly to her frame.

But nothing seemed to go right that morning : the silks were all tangled, and she could not find the right colour, and again and again her eyes wandered to the window and to the busy scene outside. By a strong effort she tried to work more steadily, when her attention was aroused by a step at the door. It was only the servant coming back alone with her basket full of treasures. A rebellious impulse seized her, and she hastened out into the low dark passage. THE OLD HOUSE IN THE MARKET-PLACE 19 ' Oh, Gretchen ! do let me go out with you just for a few minutes. I want so much to buy some flowers in the market.' ' But what will the mistress say ?' asked the woman doubtfully. ' She will surely scold me for letting you go out in the heat of the sun, and she will say it is not seemly for you to go bargaining with the countrywomen.

For, in deed, my dear young lady, one can do nothing without so much disputing and arguing. You would never believe how much, for instance, Anna Solis yonder asked me for this very cauli flower. But there, you need not fear, she was no match for me !' added Gretchen, with a merry laugh at the thought of her enemy's dis comfiture. Helena was silent for a moment. She did not wish to bring this faithful friend into trouble. and yet she did wish to have her own way. ' Where is my aunt V she asked. ' The mistress is gone on into the town on business. She may come back at any moment. But if you do indeed wish anything bought in the market-place, let me go and get it for you, Countess,' said the good-natured servant, in a coaxing tone. ' Yes, Gretchen, that will be excellent,' replied the young girl eagerly. 'Come here to the window, and I will show you.

Do you see, in the stall close by the corner, that beautiful white azalea in full blossom ? I should so like to have it for my own room. I will stay near the door to open it for you when you come m. Gretchen willingly consented, and hastened across the street on her errand, quite resolved that she would make the best bargain she could. Scarcely was she gone, however, before a rapid step was heard on the pavement, and the young girl, wondering at her messenger's quick return, hurried to unlatch the door, with a warm greeting. ' You dear good creature to come back so soon !' But she started back in blushing dismay, for it was not Gretchen she met on the threshold, but a tall young man in the uniform of a Prussian officer. ' Countess Helena !' he exclaimed, holding out his hand, ' how fortunate to meet you like this 1' ' Oh, Max ! I did not know it was you,' she MAX 21 murmured. ' You frightened me ! I thought it was Gretchen with my white azalea.'

Chapter II. Max

' He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who fears to put it to the touch, To win or lose it all.' ' Aunt Barbara will soon be home again ; per haps you would like to wait for her?' said the Countess Helena, demurely seating herself at her embroidery-frame, and appearing to be absorbed in her needlework. ' But, indeed, I did not come to see her,' began Max, who had followed the young girl into the sitting-room, and now stood uncertain by the door. He was almost bewildered by his unlooked for good fortune in thus finding her alone. Then he paused, and the great strong fellow, who had never shrunk from any enterprise before, felt as shy and timid as an old-fashioned schoolgirl. He had so little self-confidence, that as he watched that downcast head he never dreamt that his coming had cast for her a flood of light and brightness over the house which had seemed so gloomy a few minutes before.

He did not know that in truth his cause was won before he had begun to plead it. Helena was the first to break the silence, which might have been measured by seconds, long as it seemed to both of them. She looked up with a smile. ' Then I think it is rather ungrateful of you, for she is always so glad to see you. Perhaps it is Uncle Paul for whom you are waiting V With a desperate feeling that he wTas wasting these precious moments, and perhaps losing his last chance, Max resolved to put his fortune to the touch. ' Oh, Helena ! listen to me for a moment. Have you never guessed how I love you ? Have you not known that I have come here Sunday after Sunday, and whenever I could get leave of absence, for your sake alone ? Only to be near you, to breathe the same air, MAX 23 to hear your voice, to watch every movement, to share every thought ! ' Forgive me, dearest, if I have startled you ; I have waited so many months for this chance of telling you all.

It is no sudden fancy, believe me ; it is no passing feeling. From the first day I saw you, when I went down with your uncle to meet the steamer which brought you from Neuwied, you have been the only woman in the world for me. ' Tell me, Helena, can you give me any hope ? Can you ever learn to love me ?' He stood before her with outstretched hands, offering himself, his life to her, and feeling that his fate hung upon a breath. He watched her as she turned away to hide her burning blushes, and he could hear his own heart beat in the perfect stillness, which seemed to have lasted for hours. At last he could bear it no longer. ' Countess Helena, have you not a word for me ? If you bid me go, I will leave you at once, and never cross your path again.' She turned quickly and put out her hand. ' No, Max, do not go !' That was all she said, but a glance at her face told him all he wished to know.

There was no need of any more words ; he clasped her hand and raised it to his lips, like a knight of old doing fealty to his queen. It was this very inopportune moment that Gretchen happened to choose for returning from her errand in the market-place. As she opened the door and stood there with the white azalea in her hands, Helena started from her seat and advanced hastily to meet her. ' Oh, what a lovely flower ! it scents the whole room !' she exclaimed. ' How good of you to get it for me !' The young officer had not recovered himself so quickly, and stood back rather confused and uncomfortable. He would perhaps have felt more at his ease if he had understood the quiet twinkle of satisfaction in the old servant's smile, which seemed to say : She knew all about it, and she had known it long ago, before these two foolish young people knew it themselves.

If her mistress chose to be so blind about what was going on under her own eyes, she, at least, had seen it for months past. As Gretchen placed the plant carefully on the table, picked up a stray thread on the carpet, ' HELENA STARTED FROM HER SEAT.' Page 24. MAX 27 and then retired in the most leisurely manner, no one thought of asking her why she had been so long gone. Had not the bargaining for the azalea been a more serious business than buying the cauli flower ? And had she not seen Lieutenant Eckermann go to the house, and purposely delayed her return, so as to leave time for a lovers' meeting ? There was a short silence in the oak-panelled room after her departure, for when such an interesting conversation is by any chance inter rupted, it is often difficult to strike the same high note again.

But Max was too much in earnest to lose much time when every moment was so precious. ' Will you give me one of those white blossoms to take with me, as an emblem of yourself?' he asked. She gathered a sprig of azalea, and offered it to him with a smile. ' The flower will soon fade, but at least it may keep me in your memory until we meet again to-morrow, and then — then, Max, you will tell Uncle Paul ?' ' Oh, Helena ! have I not told you ?' he exclaimed. ' There will be no " to-morrow." I must leave Mayence this very day.' The young girl looked up in dismay for a moment before she spoke. ' Then your years of military service are really at an end, and you are going to work at your profession in earnest now ?' ' Indeed, I wish it were so, for that would bring me nearer to the time when I hope to claim you.

But no,' he continued sadly, ' my time of service in the army is prolonged for some special reason, and I with a number of others have received orders to proceed at once to Berlin. There are rumours of war ' ' Oh, Max !' cried Helena, losing all her shy ness as this terrible new fear presented itself to her. ' You must not go ; your time has ex pired, and they have no claim on you ; you must represent the matter to the Government. I cannot spare you.' Instead of being flattered by her anxiety on his behalf, the single-hearted young fellow took a practical view of it. ' But what would you have me do ? Believe me, I cannot refuse to obey orders, and even if escape were possible, my honour is at stake. MAX 29 Would you not be the first to be ashamed of me if I were pointed out as the coward who stood safely on one side, and let others fight his country's battles in his place V ' I did not mean that,' half sobbed the poor girl ; ' but it is very hard upon you.

It is not as if it were your own choice, and you meant really to be a soldier in the end. Your profession is to save life, and not to destroy it.' There was so much truth in this that Max scarcely knew what answer to give. Just then, however, the quaint old Nuremberg clock in the corner chimed the hour, and he turned towards it with a start. ' How quickly the time has gone ! I must be on parade in half-an-hour. Helena, can you forgive me for thus disturbing your peace ? Have I done right to speak to you now, when I may be leaving you for ever ?' He spoke so gravely and earnestly that she felt her courage rise, and resolved to show her self worthy of him. ' Yes, Max, you have done well to tell me all, whatever may be in the future. I will be brave and patient.' ' I know that I am not good enough for you, sweet Countess Helena ; I cannot offer you the rank, the fortune which should be yours. ' Have I been rash and selfish in thus seeking to bind your fate to mine, when a truer devotion might have bid me wait until I could offer you a position more worthy of you ?

Will you blame me one day, dearest, when you may perhaps learn that your friends have higher aims for you ? ' But no,' he added impetuously, ' your heart will not condemn me. I could not leave you, perhaps for ever, without a word or a sign.' ' I thank you for your trust, Max. You know that I am only eighteen, and am not my own mistress until I am of age. But do not doubt me ; I will wait for you until you come back to claim my word, or until you release me from my promise,' she added with a smile, ' and send back that sprig of azalea as a token.' ' I accept the challenge,' said Max Eckermann gravely. ' See, I will fold up the precious flower here in my pocket-book, and always carry it next my heart.' Then a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and he took it out again, and held out the envelope. ' It will add so much to the value of it, and MAX 31 prevent any mistake, if I may beg of you to write your name on it.' Helena consented with a blush and a smile, and as she took the paper in her hand, no dark forebodings rose up before her as to when and under what circumstances she might see it again.

She wrote her name in clear, distinct characters, and the young man took the pencil she had used, and signed his own below. There were the two words almost intertwined, ' Helena ' and ' Max, ' and as the young lovers looked at the inscription, they felt it to be a silent pledge and witness of their betrothal. It was time to part, however, and after a brief, hurried farewell, Max was gone, and the Countess Helena was left alone. The man's life of action and movement was before him, whilst hers was the woman's lot of patience and waiting. What a change one short half-hour had made ! Before this chance meeting, if not quite ' in maiden meditation fancy free,' for perhaps that would not have been strictly true, yet the young girl had never owned, even to herself, how much she cared for Max Eckermann.

He had been a constant visitor at her uncle's house, treated there almost like one of the family, for he was the son of a very old friend of Paul Schmidt. For the past year he had been stationed at Mayence, undergoing his term of compulsory service in the army, which was now almost at an end, and he had been hoping to return to his studies in the hospital, for he had chosen the profession of a doctor. The good-tempered young fellow was a favourite with everyone, always ready to speak a kind word or do a kind deed for man, woman, or child. But he had never had much oppor tunity of showing special attention to Helena, who was always very quiet and reserved in society. Yet she had noticed the silent defer ence with which he listened to anything she said, the way in which her slightest wish was remembered by him, and her taste consulted on every occasion.

Moreover, of late there had been something more in his manner wdiich she could not have defined — a tender homage which made her heart beat quickly when she thought of it. Yes, she had liked him very much, and when he came to the old house in the market-place, MAX 33 or joined her aunt and herself in any expedition where his ready aid was required, the days had a peculiar brightness of their own. But it had come upon her as a sudden revelation that Max cared for her so much ; that she, Helena, should be the bright particular star of his devo tiou. A new world seemed to open before her, full of life and happiness ; but there was one dark shadow, one cloud on the horizon. Max was gone, and who could tell when they might meet again ? She shuddered at the thought of war and all its horrors, and then she tried to console her self with the thought that there was no real ground for fear.

How often had there been such rumours before, when nothing had fol lowed, and peace had remained undisturbed ! So, with happy ignorance of the future, the young girl dismissed all such anxious thoughts, and would not suffer them to darken the open ing page of her life's romance.

Chapter III

A TOWER ON THE RHINE. ' Above, the frequent feudal towers Through green leaves lift their walls of gray ; And many a rock which steeply lowers Looks o'er this vale of vintage-bowers.' The first impulse of the Countess Helena was to proclaim her engagement to the world, for she had no misgivings that the news would not be received with satisfaction by everyone. She looked out eagerly for the return of her aunt Barbara, in order to share this newly-found happiness ; perhaps, indeed, hoping to make it seem more real by talking about it, and re ceiving kindly congratulations. But, to her disappointment, time passed; one o'clock struck, and the mid-day dinner was actually on the table before the mistress of the house made her appearance — an almost unpre cedented event in that punctual household, where everything seemed to go by clockwork.

The dinner, too, was a very important meal, not to be treated with levity, as the Burgo master knew to his cost, if he happened to be a few minutes late in returning from the factory ; for the dishes were always left untouched until his arrival, while his wife sat waiting for him in an attitude of patient resignation. On this occasion Helena did not venture to express her surprise when the good lady hurried in after they were seated at table. But her husband looked up gravely at the tall carved clock in the corner of the room, and quietly remarked : ' Old Jacob must be getting past his work. If he sets all our clocks too fast again in this manner we will dismiss him.' ' No, no, Paul ! there is nothing the matter with the clocks ! You are laughing at me,' said Frau Schmidt, who seemed in the best of tem pers. ' And I can see that you are both dying of curiosity to know what has detained me.' The young girl looked up with an eager glance of interest ; but her uncle only shook his head, and raised his hands with a gesture dis claiming any such trivial emotion as curiosity. ' I had so much to do this morning,' ex plained his wife. ' The market was crowded, and we had to wait some time while Gretchen took her turn of bargaining.