



Produced by Charles Bowen, from page images provided by the Web Archive




Page scan source:
http://ia341310.us.archive.org/3/items/cu31924026169395/
and within this file seek: cu31924026169395.pdf





                     BY THE AUTHOR OF "VILLA EDEN."


                            ON THE HEIGHTS.

Revised Edition. In one volume, with Pictorial Title. 16mo. Cloth.
Price, $2.00.


                               EDELWEISS.

One volume. With Pictorial Title. Square 16mo. Neat Cloth. Price,
$1.00.


                             GERMAN TALES.

One volume. Square 16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00.

                           *   *   *   *   *

 -->_Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of the price, by the Publishers,_

                                         ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON.






[Illustration: "_Be patient a few minutes longer! There's a man
beckoning to go with us_," _said the boatman to his passengers_.--VILLA
EDEN, Page 1.]






                              VILLA EDEN:


                    THE COUNTRY-HOUSE ON THE RHINE.




                         By BERTHOLD AUERBACH.


                  TRANSLATED BY CHARLES C. SHACKFORD.



                                BOSTON:
                           ROBERTS BROTHERS.
                                 1871.






       Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by
                           ROBERTS BROTHERS,
     in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
                             Massachusetts.





                    THE COUNTRY-HOUSE ON THE RHINE.

                    A ROMANCE, BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH.





                                BOOK I.




                               CHAPTER I.

                            THE APPARITION.


"Be patient a few: minutes longer! There's a man beckoning to go with
us," said the boatman to his passengers, two women and one man. The man
was gray-haired, of slender form, rubicund face, and blue eyes of a
kindly, but absent-minded and weary expression; a heavy moustache,
wholly covering the upper lip, seemed out of keeping with this
inoffensive face. He wore a new summer suit of that fashionable
material which seems be-dashed and be-sprinkled with white, as if the
wearer had purposely rolled himself in a feather bed. He had, moreover,
a pretty wallet attached to a leather belt, and embroidered with blue
and red beads.

Opposite the man sat a tall and stately woman, with restless eyes and
sharp features, that might once have been attractive. She shook her
head, vexed at the delay, like one not accustomed to be kept waiting,
got up, and sat down again. She wore a pale-yellow silk dress, and the
white veil on her gray round hat was wound about the rim like the band
around a turban. Again she threw back her head with a quick movement,
then looked straight down before her, as if not to show any interest in
the stranger, and boring with the point of her large parasol into the
side of the boat.

Near the man sat a smiling, fair maiden, in a blue summer suit, and
holding in her hand, by the elastic string, a small blue hat ornamented
with a bird's wing.  Her head was rather large and heavy, and the broad
forehead was made yet more massive by a rich abundance of braided hair;
a large curl on each side rested upon her shoulder and breast. The
girl's countenance was bright and clear as the clear day which shed its
beams over the landscape. She put on her hat, and the mother gave it a
little touch to adjust it properly. The girl exchanged quickly her
coarse leather gauntlets for delicate, glossy ones which she took out
of her pocket; and while drawing them on with great dexterity, she
looked at the new-comer.

A tall and handsome young man, with a full brown beard, a sinewy frame,
a gray shawl over his shoulder, and upon his head a broad-brimmed gray
hat with black crape, same down the steep and zigzag path with a
vigorous step to the shore. He stepped into the boat, and lifting his
hat while bowing in silence, displayed a noble white forehead shaded by
dark-brown hair. His countenance spoke courage and firmness, and, at
the same time, had an expression that awakened confidence and trust.

The girl cast down her eyes, while her mother once more fastened and
unfastened her hat-string, contriving at the same time, with seeming
carelessness, to place one long curl in front, and the other upon the
shoulder behind, so as to be becoming, and to look easy and natural.

The man in the mottled suit pressed the white head of his cane to his
lips. The stranger, seating himself apart from the others, gazed into
the stream, whilst the boat was moving rapidly through the water. They
landed at an island on which was a large convent, now a boarding-school
for girls.

"Oh, how beautiful! and are the lessons learned there?" asked the girl,
pointing to a group of lofty trees on the shore, clustered so near
together that they seemed to have grown out of one root, and with low
seats inside the grove. "Go on!" said the mother with a reproving look
to the girl, and immediately taking her husband's arm. The girl went on
before, and the stranger followed them.

In the thickets sang the nightingales, the blackbirds, and the finches,
as if they would proclaim, "Here is the peace and the rest of Paradise,
and no one disturbs us." The dark fir-trees with their sheltering
branches, and the long row of light-green larches stood motionless by
the shore, and bees hummed in the blossoming chestnut-trees. They
reached the convent. The building, without any architectural
peculiarity, had an extended prospect of the garden, the meadows on the
island, the river, and the mountains. It was shut up, and no human
being was to be seen. The old gentleman pulled the bell; a portress
opened a small window, and asked what was wanted. Admission was
demanded, but the portress replied that it could not possibly be
granted that evening. "Take in my card, and say to the good mother that
I am here with my wife and daughter," said the old gentleman. "Permit
me to add also my card," said the stranger. The three looked round,
struck by the pleasant tone of his voice. The stranger handed his card,
and added, "Please say to the worthy Lady Superior, that I bring a
message of greeting from my mother."

The portress closed the window quickly, while the four stood at the
entrance. "I took you for a Frenchman," said the old gentleman with a
kindly tone to the young man. "I am a German," he replied. "Have you
then a relative in the convent, and are you acquainted with the good
mother?" "No, I know no one here." The answers of the stranger were so
short and direct, that he gave no opportunity to continue the
conversation, and the old gentleman appeared to be a man of position
and character, who was accustomed to be addressed, and not to make
advances. He walked with the two ladies towards a beautiful flower-bed,
and placed himself with his companions upon a seat. But the girl was
restless, and walking up and down along the edge of the meadow, she
gathered the hidden violets. The young man remained standing as if
rooted to the spot, staring at the stone steps which led up to the
cloister-door, as though he must find out what various destinies had
already gone in and out over them.

Meanwhile, the old gentleman said to his wife, "That elegant young man
appears to me to be a gambler, who has lost all his means at one of the
neighboring baths. Who knows but that he wants to borrow money of the
Lady Superior?" She laughed at her husband for being disposed to see
now, for the third time during this journey, a criminal or a ruined man
in the persons they chanced to meet.

"You may be right," said the old gentleman; "but that's the mischief of
these showy, establishments, that one supposes everybody he meets has
something to do with them. Besides, just as it happened with our
daughter--"

"What happened with me?" asked the girl from the meadow. "Why,"
continued the father, "how often, when walking behind you at the baths,
have I heard people say, 'What beautiful false hair!' no one now thinks
that there is anything genuine."

The girl laughed merrily to herself, and then adding a violet to the
nosegay on her bosom, called out, "And I believe the stranger is a
poet."