THE STORYTELLER

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LII, Issue 16, 6 May 1925, Page 3

THE STORYTELLER

. - NORA Translated from the Gorman by Pbinobbb Libosignstsir (Published by arrangement with Burns, Oates, Waahbourae, Ltd.) . . ' CHAPTER XXlV—(Continued) ,

As for his second wife, he never pronounced ... a syllable about ; her .or so much as named her; nor did he in the least notice the attle boy. Once only the injured man’s anger, broke loose for a moment from the bonds which kept his mind a prisoner. The child had, naturally enough, been playing at u Img in the Circus upon his wooden hcrse, and had pronounced Landolfo’s name in doing so. At the same moment the director’s features were contracted by a fearful fit of anger, and throwing himself upon the child, ho would have felled him to the ground had not Nora rushed to the rescue. He then stamped upon, the harmless plaything, and continued in this wild state during hours an ours ‘ ~/ _• . Tor the first time Nora, kneeling by him, and taking fearlessly his closed fists in her hands, spoke to him, with * trembling lips, but in a calm and firm voice, words of pious warning, and whispered prayers into his ears, until the rolling eyes closed, themselves n _^ ee ?’ i -,- ■ 1 lie task the great task she had once set Gl , , a . een lost sight of in the midst of her happiness and of her sorrow; she now remembered with a pang how, in her girlish she had felt that it must be her first duty to awake her father’s soul; from 11,0 indifference his career had brought with it, IT V> j fer 01 !’ . slle bad only lived, thought and prayed for her love. v - The task appeared before her now in all its grave and * important light, and she knew that she had lost her time, and had : neglected the greatest ° , f r .. j ieS * . a PPJ Nora ! for she had now found something more absorbing to herself than her own sorrow, and at the same time she had found the best remedy for it. Moreover, things now smiled upon her from another and a less grave point of view. It was impossible not to take some pleasure m life with so good and so pleasant a friend as Baron Dahnow at her side, whose whole thoughts and whole endeavors were directed towards the one aim, of making her happy. lor instance, it was perhaps a detail, and yet it contributed much to her comfort to find a horse in readiness for her. She thought it at once too costly and too useless a pleasure, and would haJedone , a . piea sure, and would have done away with it had not Dahnow insisted, upon the strength of not Dahnow insisted, upon the strength of his having the direction of affairs that the horse was to be kept. It waf necessary for her health, and he met every objection she made with., a practical answer-. -.There - was rwvdnnKi h.it act T T"' er: . There , WaS no doubt but that, when.the weariness, which steals O'er one after every great sorrow, was her endless geed-te -into fresh e s goo i o nde out into the fresh air, and enjoy the sight. of nature’s beauties. - She generally started off early in the morning in order to meet no one, ; and she always chose the most solitary rides. It sometimes

happened, nevertheless, that she came across a solitary rider, who seemed also not to care for his morning’s repose, and whom she permitted to ride beside her, when was the only reward Dahnow earned for having ar . ranged everything so well. Those were friendly, cosy rides along the quiet roads, among the fresh and green trees, displaying all their springlike magnificence. Those were 'the hours in which Nora’s eyes had something of their old sparkle about them, and in which her cheeks would bear a healthy color. ' ' Was it extraordinary that Dahiiow ridinH in her company, and gazing with her at the fresh life budding out on all sides should also have felt a new and great'hope arise in his heart? Was it so easy to nature,. should it be impossible to the human heart to shoot out fresh blossoms of love? ‘ Whatever he thought, whatever he felt, not a word fell from his lips which might have troubled Nora at that time ; nor did he even allude to'the past. ' ' Baron Dahnow had the rare gift of never being in any one’s way . Nora felt this particularly in her present intercourse with him. As at one- time his letters, now his visits, were the only events which gave her pleasure in her monotonous life. Her feelings were still too much benumbed for her to be able to notice, to their full extent, the constancy and delicacy of the attentions he surrounded her with ; but she was very thankful to him, and she enjoyed his society. There were certainly some topics which she would willingly have discussed just then, but to which he was a stranger: and yet not deny that it was very pleasant to see so constantly a. true friend, and a clever man. .Baron Dahnow* could speak well and fluently; he moreover had visited her mother’s country across the seas, and having studied its manners and customs thoroughly, he could talk about it in an interesting manner. It was, perhaps, a slight circumstance, but it awoke a new string of ideas in her to hear so much about America. ... AifUrvnrvU i t 3 i „ u tt e a «»VW fnT i is ? settled thing.that Dahnow should ride out with Nora in the'morn*i, . , p and , should spend Iu ? afternoons at the Vl -n 0 ori j Q ui, rt „„u i-- . , r . ’ , althou . she. ah ays received him- “ * fco “* T “*° r > S » nn ® went.by and * - t and ' cve ” ««*»”>» *» show lts golden and russet leaves,,: before Dahnow had mustered courage to say what? lay at his heart. Perhaps Nora’s eyes ;met z to o openly; perhaps her hand was held ont in JSm onsy ,TT h e entered the room. „» 11 , ... . ' He liad established himself completely. in. V ca P ltal and when questioned as to his strange taste for a dusty'tiown in summer,

he answered that he wished to continue his ;; l scientific studies, and added, moreover, that r_ ; the sun of the tropics had- made him proof . any amount of, heat. • Science had gained a wonderfully zealous dis- ; ciple in him. ; .- " / -'., «• • . ;

Could it be true that, Nora 'was still so busied with herself that she . had noticed nothing of what was going on in Dahnow’s feelings? Suffice it to say, that she was exceedingly, alarmed when at last he summoned courage to say the wordto offer her all P . ** •. that a man can offer the woman he loves.

And, indeed, he was a man who might well have touche’d a good woman’s heart, standing,- as he now stood before her, so manly, so earnest, so deeply moved ,by a noble emotion, telling her, as he then told her, all that he had £olt for her and had concealed in his heart of hearts since the first day ho had seen her in the villa at Bonn. .

-, - But it ; was only terror which could be read in her eyes, and without even allowing him to conclude, she brought out all the objections she could think of. Her reputation which had suffered so much before, the world —at this Dahnow smiled the difference of religion which must necessarily -divide tlrem t-Dahnow tried to make it 'easy by pro- ..-'_ mises which she knew he would keep, but Nora only shook her head; lier father who :; required her so much, her little step-brother : whom she could not leave; and then she ? spoke of his friendship which was so dear to her, and which could only be troubled by trying to change it into anything else. She told him how .beautiful his life might be, ; how his dear science would fill it up plea*jantly, and of all the chances which awaited sum, One is so eloquent when one wishes to say No!' ' <" . ■,. :. ;; ~ Dahnow listened to her quietly, and he saw how ; anxiously she looked at him, fearing She would now lose her last friend, and he saw, ~alas! Y . that there was not a spark in those eyes : . of what he had hoped, with 'time - and v patience, to awaken in them. Had he, per- '. haps,, spoken too soon? Had he not left the ; wound time enough to heal? Dahnow was a patient man, and he could wait during years if it was necessary; perhaps she must accustom herself by degrees to a new love. ''Let it all be as if I had said nothing," N were the only words he spoke, and Nora's hand was placed so joyfully and. so. confidingly in his that he told himself, with a bitter sigh, it would, indeed, be easy for her y to forget what he had said, and she would be happy if he allowed her to do so.

Dahnow came as before, and took his accustomed- place in the family circle. He amused the director during the winter evenings, either by playing at dominoes with him or by awaking gradually a few remembrances of the past; ho also played with the boy, v tossing him about on his knees, aijd he told him funny, stories, whicli* always became more fullSof animation and of drollery when he Nora joining in the laughter. To her J&fc brought books and works of art of every T&rid, and, indeed,- she enjoyed to the utmost

extent such pleasures of the, intellect. Often

when the heart is no longer the supreme master of our being, the mind steps in to" its place, and begins a reign undisturl eel.'- It

is only on a dry and ungrateful ground that no hew plant can grow, hut the richer the nature the more easily- it receives new impressions, and, if the charm of the young girl'with her freshness and simplicity, be indeed great, the charm of the intelligent woman, who is able to follow and to enter into a man’s powerful ideas, is greater still. Dahnow felt this, and felt it with a bitter pang. She had never J^eautif to him ns nownow that her sorrow was somewhat less sternly depicted upon her features, and that there lay upon them the calm and rest which follow upon, great storms of feeling nobly borne. He felt it, too, seeing her as he saw r her daily occupied with nursing her father, or watching over her little brother, or else directing her household. There was a calm, an "intelligence, and a complete unselfishness in 'all she did, which worked in a peculiarly attractive manner upon poor Dahnow.

But there came a day when he felt that he could bear it no longer. He suddenly arose, and saying, in an almost unearthly voice, “I cannot come again,” moved away without further explanation.

Nora sprang up, anxious not to let* her friend leave, anxious to call him back at any cost, but then she remained standing, as if rooted to the ground, pressing her hand to her heart, and she let him go. She had not the right to keep him back, if she could not give him anything in return for all he had given her; and, truly she had next to nothing to give him, if she refused him the only thing he asked for. Yet she heaved a deep sigh at the thought of how dreadfully she would miss him —the only friend she had in the world.

Dahnow was gone; perhaps he had had a faint hope that Nora would' recall him,, and that he would be able - to .overcome her resistance. Anyhow, his friends noticed "'that if it he sun of -the- tropics had made it easy for him to bear the scorching heat of summer, it had changed his temperament so far that he could no longer bear a- winter in the North. He had grown almost thin, and was so changed that one advised him seriously to try what a warmer climate would do for him. Dahnow followed this advice, and, packing up, he started before 'the odious winds of spring, as he termed them, would begin. His brothers thought that it would have been better for him to settle down- sensibly, and to take a wife who would make him forget all this nonsense about difference of climate; but a sister of his, who was blessed with a very numerous family, and considered him therefore more in the light of a promising uncle, opined that it was not necessary for every one to marry, and that it was.. quite clear Clemens had no, taste for that sort of thing. Why shouldn’t he be allowed to live as he liked, provided he did not once more.take it into his head to cross the seas? Dahnow did not-cross- the seas, for even unrequited love acts as a magnet upon us, so that we do not like lo place too great a distance between ourselves and the loved one. * V?' . - " •' ?

In the Karsten .-home, everything was dreadfully still and quiet after Ins departure. He had been such a good and kind

- friend, and had brought so much life into their little circle. " , |

It was now Nora’s turn Jto forget herself more than ever, in order t*o make up to her father and her brother for what they had lost, and she acquired much of cheerfulness in forcing herself to be cheerful" for others. At. first, it gave her . some, trouble to speak gladly and merrily, and she would think and ponder a long time before anything joyous came to her lips but at last her forced cheerfulness worked its effect upon herself, and when she made others smile she unconsciously smiled too.

And thus the days rolled by, -quietly and uniformly, and when the summer was past again and autumn was beginnng to appear, Nora saw that her father’s physical strength was gradually • giving way, and, strangely enough, his mental powers returning to him, gradually also. He understood things better, he could remember, too, and he seemed to have once more the capacity to feel and to think, Nora’s influence worked more powerfully upon him, and his thoughts now turned towards higher and better things.

One day he expressed the wish to, see a priest, and as Nora, her heart overflowing with joy, pressed a kiss upon his forehead, ho laid his hand, smiling, upon her shoulder, and, looking lovingly jnto her eyes, he said, “You women always get the best of it in the end; you will turn me yet into a pious man, your mother first, and then you, my child.

Yes, had I followed Ellen’s advice

in temporal as well as in spiritual matters, I should have been another man. Child, it is true that we can form our destiny, but wo succumb to the : influences we have placed ourselves under. For you, my child, the consequences were the hardest to bear. “No,” ho continued, as Nora laid her hand upon his mouth in order to stop him, “let me speak. It has been gnawing at my heart ever since, but I could not put it- into words. I destroyed the happiness of your life it would all have happened differently had I not been so selfish. But, tell me, did I dream it, or is it true,. that he returned to you after all?” “Yes, yes, he came -to- me,” ’whispered Nora; and as she said so, a feeling : of happiness shot through her heart, ’ as if. his visit had only been -crowned with- joy. “Why did he not remain ?”" asked "the old man frowning. '• -'•• ;VV : V." ; '

“A misunderstanding,” said Nora gently, “Father, dear, it couldn’t have happened anyhow. .-. It’s beter thus.” - ?

•Ihe old man looked at his child, and seeing how noble, how beautiful, how pure she was, he asked himself whether she was not worthy of occupying any place. v .' ;

- “And what prevents the misunderstanding being explained ? Yon are, both of you, in the full force of youth, and it’s never too late for happiness. What happened to him? Where is he?” he said with animation. ' “He married long ago, father,” whispered Nora— could she help a burning blush from suffusing her cheeks. “I tell you, father, it'couldn’t have been otherwise,” she added, as if to spare her quondam lover the very shadow,.of a reproach!.- V ' * Her father looked at her sadly. ' My poor child!” ho said, and drew her tenderly towards him; she hid her head upon

'his; shoulder. But suddenly he pushed her gently away. "And the other, where is he? -'','• - You v know;'Nora, the fat one who used to L come so -often last winter? I was not able 3§tQ think at that time—my head hurt me so lr ~»ut' I remember that he came almost daily, ■-J-.u and * although howwar:s r : very friendly to me, *'-.-'-.":;l-?. cannot, course, imagine that he only came to see a poor old fool like I have grown. I Why does he come no longer ? Did you send him"away," Nora?" ( -■; ;i ; "Let me remain with you, papa," answer- •: ed Nora. My only comfort now is to be with you." ""'' ."/ The old man shook his head, and looked displeased. : "I shall probably ' not remain long with you," he said.--"He was a good man, Nora, .',: wth an honest and a true heart. It would %• be such a comfort to me not to leave you alone.", : '-.-.. ."■:■• - u "Let it all happen as God wills!" said Nora; "there were, difficulties in the way or this too." ■ \ "Yes, you are, and you remain, the circus- ■:' rider's daughter, who can take root nowhere, who is fitted for no place," he observed .bitterly.., . > "Forgive me," she said, "there is a place : in which one is not asked what one lias been, \"\ nor what one is, but only what one will do to reach the highest aim of all. Perhaps the .'"/- Almighty intends -; me for that place, alV though I am not perfectly sure of it myself - /yet." r [/':--'' * ; . "I don't quite understand,".; he answered -K- > somewhat peevishly, "but do as you think best, my advice has already done you enough £ harm. ; But, listen, before I have gone quite | -down r the hill, I should like you to send for the chaplain. You knpw the one I mean—- • the one who stood by my poor wife's deathA ; bed; he will also make it easier for me to ■\ die! The last time I saw him I jgas rude to ,him; lie came to me as if he wished to warn me, and to remind me of her wishes about i you; and that I would not put up with. " Yes, I was in a bad frame of mind then, but ,-.- '-'• X I think- he will forgive me. I must also ■ '- speak with, him about the boy, so that he may tell me what is to be done in order to _:.,prevent his falling into those people's clutches. No! but he shan't fall into their ■ . clutches," he added, gnashing his teeth. -..v "However, lavish also to part in peace with them j and When I am dead, Nora, you may write to the boy's mother that I have forgiven her. She was the less to blame in the . matter, and Ellen was right; when we once ■ allow light custom to grow in us, we are v safe • against no temptation. That you didn't become like the other, was no merit ;..-■-. of mine." "-' • '"*"'-

(To be concluded.)