V. Ludmilla

by Louisa May Alcott

　　"I wonder what that young man's name was. Did he mention it, Helen?"said the major, pausing in his march up and down the room, as if thequestion was suggested by the sight of the little baskets, which thegirls had kept."No, uncle; but you can easily ask Hoffman," replied Helen."By the way, Karl, who was the Polish gentleman who came on withus?" asked the major a moment afterward, as the courier came in withnewspapers."Casimer Teblinski, sir.""A baron?" asked Amy, who was decidedly a young lady of one idea justthen."No, mademoiselle, but of a noble family, as the 'ski' denotes, forthat is to Polish and Russian names what 'von' is to German and 'de'to French.""I was rather interested in him. Where did you pick him up, Hoffman?"said the major."In Paris, where he was with fellow-exiles.""He is what he seems, is he?--no impostor, or anything of that sort?One is often deceived, you know.""On my honor, sir, he is a gentleman, and as brave as he isaccomplished and excellent.""Will he die?" asked Amy, pathetically."With care he would recover, I think; but there is no one to nursehim, so the poor lad must take his chance and trust in heaven forhelp.""How sad! I wish we were going his way, so that we might do somethingfor him--at least give him the society of his friend."Helen glanced at Hoffman, feeling that if he were not already engagedby them, he would devote himself to the invalid without any thought ofpayment."Perhaps we are. You want to see the Lake of Geneva, Chillon, and thatneighborhood. Why not go now, instead of later?""Will you, uncle? That's capital! We need say nothing, but go on andhelp the poor boy, if we can."Helen spoke like a matron of forty, and looked as full of maternalkindness as if the Pole were not out of his teens.The courier bowed, the major laughed behind his paper, and Amy gave asentimental sigh to the memory of the baron, in whom her interest wasfailing.They only caught a glimpse of the Pole that evening at the Kursaal,but next morning they met, and he was invited to join their party fora little expedition.The major was in fine spirits, and Helen assumed her maternal airtoward both invalids, for the sound of that hollow cough alwaysbrought a shadow over her face, recalling the brother she had lost.Amy was particularly merry and charming, and kept the whole partylaughing at her comical efforts to learn Polish and teach English asthey drove up the mountainside to the old Schloss."I'm not equal to mounting all those steps for a view I've seen adozen times; but pray take care of the child, Nell, or she'll get lostagain, as at Heidelberg," said the major, when they had roamed aboutthe lower part of the place; for a cool seat in the courtyard and aglass of beer were more tempting than turrets and prospects to thestout gentleman."She shall not be lost; I am her body-guard. It is steep--permit thatI lead you, mademoiselle;" Casimer offered his hand to Amy, and theybegan their winding way. As she took the hand, the girl blushed andhalf smiled, remembering the vaults and the baron."I like this better," she said to herself, as they climbed step bystep, often pausing to rest in the embrasures of the loopholes,where the sun glanced in, the balmy wind blew, and vines peeped fromwithout, making a pretty picture of the girl, as she sat with rosycolor on her usually pale cheeks, brown curls fluttering about herforehead, laughing lips, and bright eyes full of pleasant changes.Leaning opposite in the narrow stairway, Casimer had time to study thelittle tableau in many lights, and in spite of the dark glasses,to convey warm glances of admiration, of which, however, the youngcoquette seemed utterly unconscious.Helen came leisurely after, and Hoffman followed with a telescope,wishing, as he went, that his countrywomen possessed such dainty feetas those going on before him, for which masculine iniquity he will bepardoned by all who have seen the foot of a German Fraulein.It was worth the long ascent, that wide-spread landscape basking inthe August glow.Sitting on a fallen block of stone, while Casimer held a sun-umbrellaover her, Amy had raptures at her ease; while Helen sketched and askedquestions of Hoffman, who stood beside her, watching her progress withinterest. Once when, after repeated efforts to catch a curious effectof light and shade, she uttered an impatient little exclamation, Karlmade a gesture as if to take the pencil and show her, but seemed torecollect himself and drew back with a hasty "Pardon, mademoiselle."Helen glanced up and saw the expression of his face, which plainlybetrayed that for a moment the gentleman had forgotten he was acourier. She was glad of it, for it was a daily trial to her to orderthis man about; and following the womanly impulse, she smiled andoffered the pencil, saying simply,--"I felt sure you understood it; please show me."He did so, and a few masterly strokes gave the sketch what it needed.As he bent near her to do this Helen stole a glance at the grave, darkface, and suddenly a disturbed look dawned in the eyes fixed on theglossy black locks pushed off the courier's forehead, for he hadremoved his hat when she spoke to him. He seemed to feel thatsomething was amiss, shot a quick glance at her, returned the penciland rose erect, with an almost defiant air, yet something of shame inhis eye, as his lips moved as if to speak impetuously. But not a worddid he utter, for Helen touched her forehead significantly, and saidin a low tone,--"I am an artist; let me recommend Vandyke brown, which is notaffected by heat."Hoffman looked over his shoulder at the other pair, but Amy wasmaking an ivy wreath for her hat, and the Pole pulling sprays for theabsorbing work. Speaking rapidly, Karl said, with a peculiar blendingof merriment, humility, and anxiety in his tone,--"Mademoiselle, you are quick to discover my disguise; will you also bekind in concealing? I have enemies as well as friends, whom I desireto escape: I would earn my bread unknown; Monsieur le Major keeps myfoolish secret; may I hope for equal goodness from yourself?""You may, I do not forget that I owe my life to you, nor that you area gentleman. Trust me, I never will betray you.""Thanks, thanks! there will come a time when I may confess the truthand be myself, but not yet," and his regretful tone was emphasized byan impatient gesture, as if concealment was irksome."Nell, come down to lunch; uncle is signalling as if he'd gone mad.No, monsieur, it is quite impossible; you cannot reach the harebellswithout risking too much; come away and forget that I wanted them."Amy led the way, and all went down more quietly than they came up,especially Helen and Hoffman. An excellent lunch waited on one of thetables in front of the old gateway, and having done justice to it, themajor made himself comfortable with a cigar, bidding the girls keepnear, for they must be off in half an hour. Hoffman went to see to thehorses, Casimer strolled away with him, and the young ladies went togather wild flowers at the foot of the tower."Not a harebell here; isn't it provoking, when they grow in tufts upthere, where one can't reach them. Mercy, what's that? Run, Nell, theold wall is coming down!"Both had been grubbing in a damp nook, where ferns and mosses grewluxuriantly; the fall of a bit of stone and a rending sound above madethem fly back to the path and look up.Amy covered her eyes, and Helen grew pale, for part way down thecrumbling tower, clinging like a bird to the thick ivy stems, hungCasimer, coolly gathering harebells from the clefts of the wall."Hush; don't cry out or speak; it may startle him. Crazy boy! Let ussee what he will do," whispered Helen."He can't go back, the vines are so torn and weak; and how will he getdown the lower wall? for you see the ivy grows up from that ledge, andthere is nothing below. How could he do it? I was only joking when Ilamented that there were no knights now, ready to leap into a lion'sden for a lady's glove," returned Amy, half angry.In breathless silence they watched the climber till his cap was fullof flowers, and taking it between his teeth, he rapidly swung down tothe wide ledge, from which there appeared to be no way of escape but areckless leap of many feet on to the turf below.The girls stood in the shadow of an old gateway, unperceived, andwaited anxiously what should follow.Lightly folding and fastening the cap together, he dropped it down,and, leaning forward, tried to catch the top of a young birch rustlingclose by the wall. Twice he missed it; the first time he frowned, butthe second he uttered an emphatic, "Deuce take it!"Helen and Amy looked at each other with a mutual smile andexclamation,--"He knows some English, then!"There was time for no more--a violent rustle, a boyish laugh, and downswung the slender tree, with the young man clinging to the top.As he landed safely, Helen cried, "Bravo!" and Amy rushed out,exclaiming reproachfully, yet admiringly,--"How could you do it and frighten us so? I shall never express a wishbefore you again, for if I wanted the moon you'd rashly try to get it,I know.""Certainement, mademoiselle," was the smiling reply. Casimerpresented the flowers, as if the exploit was a mere trifle."Now I shall go and press them at once in uncle's guide-book. Come andhelp me, else you will be in mischief again." And Amy led the way tothe major with her flowers and their giver.Helen roamed into one of the ruined courts for a last look at afountain which pleased her eye. A sort of cloister ran round thecourt, open on both sides, and standing in one of these arched nooks,she saw Hoffman and a young girl talking animatedly. The girl waspretty, well dressed, and seemed refusing something for whichthe other pleaded eagerly. His arm was about her, and she leanedaffectionately upon him, with a white hand now and then caressing hisface, which was full of sparkle and vivacity now. They seemed about topart as Helen looked, for the maiden standing on tiptoe, laughinglyoffered her blooming cheek, and as Karl kissed it warmly, he said inGerman, so audibly Helen heard every word,--"Farewell, my Ludmilla. Keep silent and I shall soon be with you.Embrace the little one, and do not let him forget me."Both left the place as they spoke, each going a different way, andHelen slowly returned to her party, saying to herself in a troubledtone,--"'Ludmilla' and 'the little one' are his wife and child, doubtless. Iwonder if uncle knows that."When Hoffman next appeared she could not resist looking at him; butthe accustomed gravity was resumed, and nothing remained of the glowand brightness he had worn when with Ludmilla in the cloister.