1853.]

what love was, till now. I had never known what absence was, till now. And, moreover, I had all my life been wont, not to subdue my feelings, but only to conceal them; and only God, who sees into the hearts that he created, knows how a hidden passion, a hidden anguish, multiplies and dilates in the dark silence of its prison.

On the fourth day, Mrs. Warburton left her room for the first time, and in the afternoon my father drove her out to see some friends who lived some miles away. Left to myself, I took a book, and hurried down the cliff to my favourite haunt among the rocks. Vividly do I remember the sunshiny glory of that September afternoon, the golden transparency of the air, the peculiar clearness of the sea, which, near shore, appeared one mass of liquid emerald, save where the rocks cast their quaint shadows, like frowns upon its still surface. The brown, jagged line of coast, stretching boldly out on either hand, the curved bay of F smiling in the distance, with the grey ruin of the castle on its own steep cliff, sternly outlined against the soft blue sky-all is impressed on my mind more keenly than anything I can see now with bodily vision. I recollect the aromatic odour which rose from the beach, the choughs clustering here and there on the cliffs-and one shining-sailed little fishing boat, which the lazy breeze scarce caused to move on the quiet sea. I have forgotten nothing.

I sat down on my throne, so high up among the labyrinth of rocks that less accustomed feet than mine would have found it difficult to penetrate thereto. I felt safely alone-and solitude was felicity to me then. I folded my hands on my lap, gazed out into the broad ocean, and floated forth into the yet broader sea of my happy thoughts.

It might have been hours-or only minutes that had elapsed, when the stillness was broken by another sound than the drowsy music of the ebbing tide. A voice, the very echo of which made my heart leap, called on my name.

Bertha! Bertha! are you here? Answer, if you are.'

What was it that choked the

55

Something in the tone with which those two little words were repeated smote on my dormant sense, and woke it to keen life. They were very near me now, but the tall peaks of the rocks completely hid them from me. Still they were so near that I could hear every word that passed, though they spoke softly, gently, as lovers, happy lovers should.

There! That is a proper seat for you, up there, and this is no less fit for me at your feet. If I raise my eyes I see you-and heaven beyond. Nothing else.'

I stood fixed. I listened-I heard all they said-I can hear it now.

'Ah, Geoffrey !' it was Mary spoke next shall I wake presently? This sunshine, and this emerald sea, and the cloudless sky, it is like what I have seen in dreams-only'-there was a hesitating pause, and then the voice grew trembling and low—'I should never have dreamed you -you loved me.'

6

Why not? Do you only dream of what you desire ?' She was silent.

'Did you ever dream of loving me, Mary ?'

I never thought of it till-till you asked me. And then I asked myself, and-I knew!' And did you never guess I loved

you ?'

'Never, never! I thought you cared for Bertha. If I had discovered my own secret before I knew yours-oh Geoffrey, what should I have done ?'

'Child, child! as if you could ever love in vain !'

'But if I had been right. I thought you loved Bertha.'

What could make you think so? Bertha is my dear friend, my sister. It is so different.'

'I am ignorant-inexperiencedI could not detect the difference. And you do love her very much, I could almost be you own it. jealous, though I love her myself.

'It makes me very happy to know that Bertha and you will love one another. She is so good, so noble ! The true, earnest character of a woman I would choose from all others to be the friend of my-my wife.'

There was a silence. How merrily the waves sang, as they dashed on the rocks, and how the sunshine glared, reflected in the emerald sea! Then chimed in again the soft girlish voice :

'I shall be glad when Bertha knows. I hope she will love mewill be my friend, as you say.'

She will, she will, for my sake, as well as for yours, Mary! I was near telling her all the other evening when I was here. I so yearned to confide in her what I had not then

told even to you. But some interruption occurred, and afterwards I was glad I had said nothing. For, in case I had found that-you did not love me-I could not have endured that even Bertha should have known-'

'Ah, don't look so stern, Geoffrey ! You frighten me.'

Am I so terrible!' he rejoined, with a light laugh. Well then, we will think of the happiness it will be when I tell Bertha, and lead you to her kind arms-'

now,

Somehow, the next words floated

from me. It was as if a great tide of roaring waters rushed up into my brain, and drowned all sense for a time. Upon this dull blank, consciousness slowly broke. Piercing the hollow murmur yet resounding in my ears, came a voice, gradually growing more distant. They were going:

'Let me hold your hand, darling. I must guide you over these rocks. Take care, child, take care!'

And then, nothing disturbed the stillness. The waves sang on, the little pebbles glittered in the sunshine, the silver-sailed boat nodded to its shadow in the glassy sea, and I stood gazing in a kind of wonder at my hands, all torn and bleeding, where I had clutched fierce hold of the sharply-pointed rocks beside which I had been standing.

At the shrubbery gate stood a servant watching for me. She told me that Miss Lester and Mr. Latimer had been waiting for me all the afternoon, that they were now in the drawing room at tea. I passed through the garden, crossed the lawn, and stood for a moment at the open window before entering. My father and my step-mother were there with them. Mary was leaning back in a great arm-chair,-Geoffrey seated opposite to her, his eyes restlessly wandering about the room, yet ever returning to her face. A pale fragile face it was, with the drooped eyes, and the long tresses of fair hair floating round it. There was a trembling consciousness in the quivering mouth-in the downcast eyes. I did not dare look longer on her I stepped into the room.

and

'Ah, Bertha!' Geoffrey sprang to my side, and clasped my hand; Mary timidly stole up, and tried to wind her arms round me.

'Go away, all of you!' I cried, releasing myself with a loud laugh; 'don't you see I'm wounded, and must be delicately handled.' I held out my hands in testimony. This comes of climbing rocks in a hurry.'

Did you fall-did you hurt yourself?' anxiously asked Geoffrey.

Yes-both!-I should like some tea,'I added, passing to the tea-table, and sitting beside my step-mother. 'Poor thing-I dare say it has

1853.]

shaken you,' observed she, ever compassionate to physical ailments.

'Shaken her-Bertha!' repeated my father. Stuff! I defy any

amount of tumble to ruffle Bertha's equanimity. She's a thorough Cornish woman-bred among the cliffs and rocks of our rough coast, till she's almost rock herself. Ar'n'tyou, Bertha ?'

'Quite, sir.'

"Not quite," said Geoffrey, seating himself beside me. Ah, those poor little hands-how terribly they have been cut by the cruel rocks. Why don't you bind them up, Bertha ?'

Ah, let me-let me!' cried Mary. She knelt down at my feet, and drew forth her delicate little cambric handkerchief, and gently took hold of my hand. I held my breath -I might have borne it only I saw the look of his eyes as they were fixed on her. I snatched the hand away, and drew back my chair from her as she leaned against it. She would have fallen forwards, but that Geoffrey's arm was quick to support her, and to raise her to her feet.

'Dear Bertha, did I hurt you?' she inquired-and she would persist in hovering round me, looking at me with her affectionate eyeswhile he watched her, and loved her more, I knew, for her care of me.

'I cannot bear to be touched,' I answered; I am afraid I must forfeit my character of being perfect flint after all-for you see this casualty has somewhat disordered my nerves.'

Nerves!' growled my father; 'the first time I ever heard the words from your lips. Don't you take to nerves, for mercy's sake!'

'There is no fear of that,' cried I, laughing; and pray don't let any one alarm themselves about me,' I added, looking mockingly on the anxious faces of Geoffrey and Mary, 'I am perfectly able to take care of myself, wounded though I am. I ought to apologise for occupying so much of your time and attention.'

'Don't talk like that, Bertha,' said Geoffrey, gravely; 'you know what concerns you, concerns us!'

Us! The word stung me into fury, and I could not trust myself to speak. 'I so regret,' said the polite,

57

equable tones of my step-mother, as she turned to her guests, that we should all have been out when you came. You must have waited here some hours. Such a pity!'

'We went down to the shore to look for Bertha among the rocks,' said Geoffrey; I wonder we did not see you,' he continued, addressing me, since you were there. We called you-we hunted for you. You must have wandered very far.'

'Yes,' I replied, briefly, 'I had.' 'I am afraid you are tired,' he pursued, in a lower tone, and yet I do so wish that we may have one of our happy twilight loiterings up and down the shrubbery walk this evening. Will you, Bertha ?'

No, I cannot-I am weary,' I said. My own voice smote strangely on my ear, it was so harsh. But he did not notice it-for Mary was speaking to him.

Mrs. Warburton has no objection-she may come.'

Ah, Bertha, will you come back with us to F- this evening?' said Geoffrey, with great animation; 'that will be better still. Will you come ?'

It is impossible,' said I, still quietly; I cannot leave home.'

I had to meet the entreaties of Mary-the anxious remonstrances of Geoffrey. At length they left me, and talked apart together. It was about me, I knew. He was uneasy about me-thought that my confinement to the house during Mrs. Warburton's illness had been too much for me. He said so, when he came up to me again.

you

And I have been thinking that you ought to have some one to take care of you, dear Bertha; and if do not feel well enough to leave home, Mary shall stay here with you, and nurse you. She wishes to do so.'

I yet retained enough of reason to keep calm in order to prevent that plan's accomplishment. I had half anticipated it-I dreaded that I might presently encourage it—and then! No, I dared not have her left with me. So I whispered to Geoffrey that he must not propose such a scheme-that it would ruffle my step-mother to have an unpremeditated guest in the house that evening-that it could not be.

See, the moon is rising!' cried I, merrily. Did you ever see the moon rise over the sea from our rocks, down there? Our beautiful rocks!'

'No-let us go there and watch it. Papa and mamma won't be here with the carriage for a whole hour yet, and your papa is going to carry off Mr. Latimer to look at some horses. And I love the rocksdon't you?' Ay rocks!'

-

the happy, beautiful

'Come, then, I know the way.' She ran on before; I followed slowly, vaguely feeling that the air was pleasant and cool to my brow, and that it was easier to breathe out of the house. Before I reached the wicket, through which Mary had already disappeared, I was joined by Geoffrey.

You said you were too tired to walk with me,' he said in smiling reproach; but you are going with Mary. Well, I forgive you. And, ah! Bertha, let me tell you now

No, no, I can't wait,' I cried; 'besides-don't you hear my father calling you? He is impatient-you must go to him directly.'

Soit! He turned away shrugging his shoulders with an air of forced resignation. I watched him till a turn in the path hid him, and the sound of his footsteps ceased. I was quite alone in the solemn stillness of the twilight. A faint odour stole from the flowers that nodded on their stems in the evening breeze; the murmur of the waves flowing in on the shore below came hushingly to my ears; and the moon was just breaking from a great white cloud-its beams lay on the sea in a long trembling column of light. The purity, the peace of the time fell on my heart like snow upon a furnace. There was that within me which was fiercely at war with everything calm or holy. I turned away from the moonlight-from the flowers; and with eyes bent fixedly on the ground,

I trod the garden path to and froto and fro-thinking !

"Bertha-Bertha! oh, come!'

A voice, strained to its utmost yet still coming faintly, as from a distance, called upon my name. I know I must have heard it many times before it penetrated the chaos of my mind, and spoke to my comprehension. Then I knew it was Mary, who had long ago hastened down among the rocks, and who wondered, doubtless, that I did not join her. I paused and listened again. 'Oh, come! Bertha, Bertha, help me!'

The voice sunk with a despairing cadence. What could it mean-that earnest supplicating cry? I was bewildered, at first; and then I thought it must have been my own fancy that invested the dim sounds with such a wild and imploring tone. But I hurried through the wicket and down the path, when, midway, I was arrested by another cry, more distinct now, because nearer.

'Save me! Bertha, Bertha

help!'

Then I understood all. Her inexperienced steps had wandered into one of those bewildering convolutions of the rocks, and the advancing tide now barred her egress. I stood motionless as the conviction flashed upon me. Quick, shrill, despairing came the cries, now.

'Come to me, oh, come and save me! I shall be drowned-drowned. Oh Geoffrey, Geoffrey! help me! Don't let me die come to me, Geoffrey!'

Even in her desperation her voice took a tenderer tone in calling on his name. And I did not move. Shriek upon shriek smote on the stillness; but well I knew that all ears save mine were far away; that the loudest cry that could come from the young, delicate girl, would never be heard, except by me. Soon, exhausted by her own violence, her voice died away into a piteous wailing, amid which I could catch broken words-words that rooted anew my stubborn feet to the ground; words that scorched and seared me, and hardened into a purpose the bad thoughts, that at first only confusedly whirled and throbbed at my heart.

1853.]

"Geoffrey! come quickly to me. I shall die. Oh Geoffrey! it is so hard to die now! Where are you,

that you do not come to save me? Oh Geoffrey! my Geoffrey!'

'He will never hear, he is far away,' I said to myself; there is no help for her, none.' I felt myself smiling at the thought.

'I am drowning! Oh, the cruel sea-the dreadful, dreadful rocks!' shrieked the voice.

The beautiful rocks,' I muttered, 'you said you loved them, but a little while ago. It was there that you and he Ay, shriek on!'

The advancing tide was not more cruel, the hard rocks more immoveable, than I, as I stood listening, till again the cries subsided into a moaning that blended with the rush of the waves.

Oh, my mother! my mother! Heaven help me-have mercy on me!'

The voice was suddenly quite hushed. I shivered, and a strange, awful, deadly feeling stole over me. In that minute what an age passed.

I know how murderers feel.

But God is merciful-most merciful. Again the supplicating voice rose to my ears, this time like music. I sprang from the ground where the moment before I had crouched, and dashed down the cliff.

My mind was perfectly clear. It has been a blessed thought to me, since, that it was no delirious impulse now turned me on my way to save her. I might have been mad before, I was not now. I had full command of my reason, and as I clambered along, I at once decided on the only plan by which

59

I could rescue her. I knew every turn and twist of the rocks, and very soon I gained a high peak, above where she stood, at the farthest corner of a little creek, into which the tide was driving rapidly. There was no time to lose. I slid down the steep, smooth rock to her side. She was nearly unconscious with terror, yet when she saw me she uttered a glad cry, and wound her arms round my neck in her old caressing way. I let them stay there. I tried to arouse her courage. I told her I would save her, or we would die together. I bade her cling fast to me, and fear nothing; and then, with one arm strongly holding her slender, childish form, and with the other, grasping the rocks for support, I waded with her through the waters.

Before we rounded the chain of steep rocks which had shut her in from the shore, she fainted. I was very strong. I raised her in my arms, and clasped her close. I climbed my way with vigour, I never felt her weight. I felt nothing, except thanksgiving that she was living, breathing, safe!

A sound of voices came confusedly from the cliff. Ianswered with all the power I could, and I was heard. Ere I gained the foot of the cliff, I saw, in the clear moonlight, a figure rushing towards us-Geoffrey. It yet rings in my ears, the terrible cry which burst from him, as he beheld the figure lying lifeless in my arms.

'She is living, she is safe!' I cried. I saw the change in his face, as he snatched her from me to his heart. Then I fell at his feet, and knew no

more.

THE object of Dr. Vehse in these

volumes is to give, in greater detail than has hitherto been done, an account of the manners of the Prussian court and aristocracy during the three periods into which the history of that country naturally divides itself. The first is the period

immediately following the Reformation, when the Government was rude and contained many middle age elements, and when the petty Elector of Brandenburg was the most insignificant of his seven brother electors. The second is that after the thirty years' war, when the