A Secret Inheritance. Volume 1 of 3

"'It suits my humour exactly," said Silvain, merrily, 'and relieves us of responsibility. Eh, Louis?'

"'Yes,' I said, 'I am entirely agreeable.' But I wondered why Kristel had insisted upon this stipulation. That he had a distinct motive I was convinced. But what motive-and whither was he about to lead us?

"'Oh, I will take the responsibility,' said Kristel, 'and you shall find me the best of guides and couriers.'

"So we started gaily, and in a few days left Bavaria far behind us.

"In pursuance of the necessary scheme of brevity I had laid down for myself, I shall not pause in my story to give you an account of the places we visited under Kristel's guidance and direction. I will but say that I subsequently held the opinion-and I have no doubt it was correct-that, although Kristel had one distinct goal in view from the moment we started from the mountain-hut, It was a preconceived part of his plan that we should arrive at it by a devious route, and should, to a certain extent, be supposed to come to it by accident. Therefore we lingered here and there, and shared in the ordinary pleasures of a tour in the holiday of life. Between us existed a most agreeable amity and complaisance, and I inwardly confessed it to be a wise proceeding that one, whose word was law, should be elected captain of our wanderings. By land, and lake, and sea, over valley and mountain, we made pleasant progress, picking intellectual flowers by the waysides, until at length Kristel's design was unfolded to my view.

"We arrived at a village on the southwest coast of France, and there remained for several days. It was a village inhabited by fishermen, and on one pretext and another, Kristel kept us there. In pursuance of our promise of obedience we did not demur; and indeed there was much to interest us in the life of simplicity led by the good-hearted inhabitants. Their ancestors, for innumerable generations, had lived there before them, and the quaint and sweet crust of primitiveness lay upon the natures of the simple people, and invested them with a peculiar charm. They received us hospitably, and gave us of their best, freely and willingly. The weather was tempestuous and stormy when we arrived, and for a week there was no change in it. Fierce winds swept across the stormy sea, and roared and shrieked along the coast. This prevented the fishermen from following their usual avocation, but they were by no means idle. Sails were mended, boats were caulked and pitched and made sound; then there were the curing and smoking of fish, the repairing of huts, and all the industry of a busy leisure. To such as they inaction was worse than death; work, cheerfully performed, formed the greater part of the pleasure of life. Often and often have I thought of the sweetness of existence as it presented itself to me in that ancient village by the sea.

"A dangerous coast it was; and in the distance a lighthouse. Beyond the lighthouse treacherous silver sands, in which lurked sudden death when Nature was convulsed with passionate throes; at other times fairly safe, bathed in peace and beauty. Within the radius of a few miles many ships had been wrecked, and many a crew engulfed.

"We were young, strong, and in good health, and could afford to laugh at wind and rain. Wrapped in oilskins lent to us by the fishermen, we scaled high rocks, round the base of which the waves dashed furiously, and watched the wondrous effects of the raging tempest. At such times a man's soul is lifted up as it were. The littleness of the human life we live assumes its proper and just proportion, and we become sensible of the divine grandeur of Nature.

"At the end of a week the storm abated, and the sea became calm. When we arose in the morning the sun was shining upon a scene of loveliness and peace.

"'We are going to visit the lighthouse,' said Kristel.

"There was a glad and eager light in his eyes, and he was full of excitement.

"He had made arrangements with a party of boatmen, and after breakfast we went down to the shore, and took our seats in the boat. It was a long pull-six miles the boatmen said. From the village this watch-dog of the sea was only partially visible, the reason being that it stood on the other side of a promontory, which we now skirted. A gray, stately mass of stone, it reared beneficently to the clouds, an angel of warning to the toilers of the sea. Calm as was the day, the waves, broken up and lashed into anger by hidden rocks, were wild and turbulent around the edifice. Nearer and nearer we approached, and saw, but imperfectly as yet, the figure of a woman watching us from the topmost gallery.

"'Avicia,' said one of the rowers to his comrades.

"They nodded, and looked in her direction, and said, 'Yes, Avicia.'

"Avicia! A sufficiently attractive and unusual name. But it was not the name which compelled my breathless attention and observation; it was a simple bit of colour on her head, worn as a covering.

"What colour? Scarlet.

"I closed my eyes and became lost in reflection.

"First, of the description given to me by Silvain of a beautiful girl with raven hair, with parted lips and white teeth gleaming, and with a scarlet covering upon her head, looking out towards us, who were moving towards her upon the water.

"Next, of a coloured sketch of this beautiful girl, upon which Kristel was gazing, as he and I sat together in the mountain hut, with love in his eyes and in his heart. 'Is she not beautiful?' Kristel had asked; and when he heard the footsteps of his brother without, he had hurriedly and jealously hidden the sketch, so that Silvain should not see it. And Silvain had never set eyes upon it, neither at that nor at any other time. Of this I was convinced, although I had no positive knowledge of the fact.

"'Shall I ever see her in my waking life?' were Silvain's words. And when I asked him if he believed she lived, he answered, 'As surely as I live. If I knew where she is to be found I would go and seek her.' Well, without seeking her he was moving towards her; and Kristel and I were with him; and Avicia was watching and waiting for us.

"I opened my eyes and looked forward, in dumb amazement and apprehension. She had not moved from her point of observation. I turned towards Silvain and Kristel. They were both gazing at her like men entranced. For a moment I felt as if an enchantment had fallen upon us.

"'What name did you say?' I asked of the boatmen.

"A foolish and unnecessary question, for I had heard it distinctly, and it was already deeply rooted in my mind.

"'Avicia,' they replied.

"Silvain drew a long breath.

"'Kristel,' he said to his brother.

"'Yes,' said Kristel, in a dreamy tone.

"'She is no shadow.'

"'No, she lives.'

"'I have dreamt of her exactly as she is, exactly as she stands at the present moment.'

"'You have dreamt of her, Silvain!' exclaimed Kristel, in the same soft dreamy tone. 'Impossible.'

"'It is true. I described her to Louis.'

"'Yes,' I said, 'it is true.'

"Presently, after a pause, Silvain said, 'You knew she was here, Kristel?'

"'Yes,' replied Kristel, 'I knew she was here.'

"No further words were spoken till we reached the lighthouse, entrance to which was obtained by means of stone steps, on each side of which hung ropes and chains to guide and steady us. In a few moments we stood in the presence of Avicia.

"'I told you I would come, Avicia,' said Kristel. 'This is my brother Silvain.'"

XIII

"How Kristel and Avicia first met is soon explained. Her aunt, who was the only sister of her father, the keeper of the lighthouse, lay dying, as she believed, in a small hamlet in the Tyrol, and had written to her brother to allow Avicia to come to her. Avicia's father, a morose, avaricious man, had the idea that his sister possessed some treasure in money which, upon her death, should be his, and which would be lost were he or Avicia not with her when she died. His duties would not permit him to leave the lighthouse, therefore he sent Avicia to his sister, with careful instructions how to act. In no other circumstances would he have consented that his daughter should leave him, even for a short time, but the temptation was too strong to be resisted. To Avicia it was a trial to quit the strange place in which she had been born, and in which she had passed her life, but she obeyed her father's commands, and it was in the Tyrol that Kristel first came across her. Fascinated by her beauty he paid her marked attentions, and during the three weeks she remained with her aunt (who, instead of dying, recovered her health almost immediately upon the arrival of her niece) the young people were constantly together. What kind of encouragement Avicia gave Kristel I am not in a position to say. That he loved her with all the strength of his heart and soul is certain, and it could not but be that she was flattered by the adulation of a young man so handsome and well-born as Kristel. Despite the difference in their stations he wooed her honourably, and she, simple and unsophisticated, knew not how to reply. Kristel could not marry without his father's consent, and so he told her; and she, enlightened by this avowal as to the right course for her to pursue, told him that she could not marry without her father's consent.

"'Then write to him,' said Kristel, 'and when he replies, and you promise to be my wife, I will write home and avow my love.'

"She wrote as he desired, and at the same time informed her father that her aunt had recovered her health and needed her no longer. It is my opinion that Avicia must have written in such terms concerning Kristel as to have inspired in the father's heart a doubt whether the young gentleman's wooing was prompted by honourable intentions. There are two other possible interpretations of the course he pursued: one, that he had no desire to part from his daughter; the other, that he believed it likely he might make some sort of bargain, to his own advantage, with a man presumably rich who had become enamoured of Avicia's beauty.

"'Come back instantly,' the keeper of the lighthouse wrote to Avicia, in reply to her letter, 'come back within an hour of your reading these lines. Sleep not another night in your false aunt's house; she only sent for you to fool you. As for this young gallant of whom you write, if he is honest, and rich, and reasonable, let him seek you in your father's home. Beware that he is not also fooling you. I doubt my wisdom in sending one so simple as yourself into a false world. Obey me. Come back without an hour's delay.'

"Frank and unsuspicious, Avicia showed this letter to Kristel.

"'Your father suspects me,' he said. 'I will come and seek you the moment I am free.'

"Being set free by his father's death, he redeemed his promise. Thus it was that they met again.

"I set myself to the study of Avicia's character; I wished to ascertain whether she was a coquette. What I learned filled me with admiration. She was a child of nature; ingenuous and modest, with no desire to make a traffic of her beauty in the way of winning men's hearts. She did not win mine as a lover, but she won my esteem as a friend.

"Needless to say we did not leave the village; indeed, we took up permanent quarters there. Observing Kristel and Silvain when they were with Avicia, I foresaw a storm-a storm all the more terrible and significant because of the peculiar ties of sympathy by which the brothers were bound to each other. They bought a boat, and took into their service two men of the village, to row them to and fro. Not a fine day passed without their visiting the lighthouse, and after a time they seldom went empty-handed. At first they were unsuspicious of each other, but presently I intercepted glances, the meaning of which it was impossible to me-an observer who wished them well and was not likely to interfere with their heart's dearest wish-to misunderstand. Love had found its place-and jealousy also. As for Avicia she made no conspicuous sign. How was it to end. With fear I asked this question of myself.

"Of the two I distrusted Kristel the more. Of the two I had more dread of him than of Silvain. Not divining to which of the brothers Avicia's heart was truly drawn, believing that her faithful love could be won by either were the other away, I devised a plan-which proved to be a trap into which I myself was to fall.

"I intercept the course of my narrative at this point by mentioning something which should have been mentioned earlier. Baldwin was the name by which Avicia's father was known. I have told you he was an avaricious man. He was something more than this-he was a designing man, and he played one brother against the other. They grew, as I have said, into the habit of taking presents with them when they visited the lighthouse, presents of wine and food and flowers. The wine and food were acceptable to Avicia's father, the flowers he despised.

"'But,' said Kristel to him, 'the flowers are for Avicia.'