Of that lady was the young maiden now thinking, of that memorable woman
with the flashing eyes whose tender glance had always penetrated the
heart of the child with delight, whose tender words yet resounded like
music in her ears.
Where was she now, this lady of her love, her longings? why had she been
brought away from that house with its snowy winding-sheet and the ice
drapery upon its windows? Where lay that house, and where had she to
seek it with her thoughts? What was the language she had there spoken,
and which she now secretly spoke in her heart, although nobody else
addressed her in it, no one about her understood it; and wherefore had
her friend and protector, he who had brought her here, who had always
been with her, wherefore had he suddenly given himself the appearance of
no longer understanding it?
And even as she was thinking of him, of this dear friend and protector,
he came along down the alley; his tall form appeared at the end of the
walk; she recognized his noble features, with the proud eagle glance and
the bold arched brow.
The young maiden arose from her seat and hastened to meet him.
"How charming that you have come, Paulo," she gayly said, stretching
forth her little hands toward him. "I must ask you something, and that
directly, Paulo. Tell me quickly what is that language called in which
we formerly conversed together, and why have we ceased to speak it since
we came here to Rome?"
Paulo's brow became slightly clouded, but when he looked into her
beautiful face, animated by expectant curiosity, this expression of
displeasure quickly vanished from his features, and, threatening her
with his finger, he said: "Always this same question, Natalie; and yet I have so often begged of
you to forget the past, and live only in the present, my dear, sweet
child! The past is sunken in an immeasurable gulf behind you, which you
can never pass, and if it stretches out its arms to you, it will only be
for the purpose of dragging you down into the abyss with it. Forget
it, therefore, my Natalie, and yield thyself to this beautiful and
delightful present, to increase for you the attractions of which will
ever be the dearest task of my life."
"It is true," said the young maiden, sighing, "I am wrong to be always
recurring to those long-past times; you must pardon me, Paulo, but you
will also acknowledge that my enigmatical past justifies me in feeling
some curiosity. Only think how it began! You one day came rushing to my
room, you pressed me all trembling to your heart, and silently bore me
away. 'Natalie,' said you, 'danger threatens you; I will save, or
perish with you!' You mounted your horse with me in your arms. Behind us
screamed and moaned the servants of my house, but you regarded them
not, and I trustingly clung to your heart, for I knew that if danger
threatened me, you would surely save me! Oh, do you yet remember that
fabulous ride? How we rested in out-of-the-way houses, or with poor
peasant people, and then proceeded on farther and farther! And how the
sun constantly grew warmer, melting the snow, and you constantly became
more cheerful and happy, until, one day, you impetuously pressed me to
your bosom, and said: 'Natalie, we are saved! Life and the future are
now yours! Look around you, we are in Italy. Here you can be free and
happy!'"