CHAPTER LXVIII

THEY soon found the boundary of the forest, and turned toward the southeast. Consuelo's head was uncovered, but Joseph, although observing the sun scorch her beautifully clear complexion, dared not express his regret. The hat which he himself wore not being new, he could not offer it to her; and feeling his anxiety useless, he did not wish to say any thing about it. But he placed his own hat under his arm with an abrupt movement which his companion remarked.

"Well, that is a strange idea," said she; "it would seem as if you found the air close and the plain shaded with trees. It reminds me that I have nothing on my own head; but as I have not always had every comfort within my reach, I know many ways of procuring them at little cost." So saying, she snatched a clustering vine-branch, and rolling it into a circle, she made of it a cap of verdure.

"Now she has something the air of a Muse," thought Joseph, "and the boy vanishes afresh!" They were now passing through a village, and Joseph seeing one of those shops where they sell every thing, rushed in suddenly ere she could prevent him, and immediately appeared again with a little straw hat with broad rims flapping over the ears, such as is worn by the peasants of the Danube.

"If you begin by luxuries," said she, trying on this new headdress, "we may want bread before our journey is over."

"Want bread?" exclaimed Joseph, eagerly; "I would rather beg by the way-side and tumble in the streets for pence! Oh, no! you shall want for nothing with me." Then seeing that Consuelo was surprised at his enthusiasm, he added somewhat more composedly: "Reflect, Signor Bertoni, that all my prospects depend on you, that you are as it were in my charge, and that I am bound to bring you safe and sound to Master Porpora."

The idea that her companion should fall in love with her never entered Consuelo's mind. Modest and single-minded women rarely entertain such ideas, which coquettes on the contrary are forever hatching. Besides even very young women usually esteem men of their own age as children, and Consuelo was two years older than Haydn, who was so small and meager that he seemed hardly fifteen. She knew very well that he was more, but she never could have supposed that love had dawned upon his imagination. It was evident, however, that Joseph experienced some extraordinary emotion, for once when she stopped to breathe a little and admire the lofty prospect, she detected him gazing at her with a sort of ecstasy.

"What is the matter with you, friend Beppo?" said she, artlessly, "methinks you are melancholy; I cannot get it out of my head that I am a burthen to you."

"Do not say that," said he, with much emotion; "it were to refuse me that esteem and confidence for which I would gladly give my life."

"In that case do not look so sad unless you have some vexation at heart that you have not told me of."

Joseph fell into a gloomy silence, and they walked on for a long time before he was able to break it. But the longer the silence continued, the greater became his confusion and his fear of being found out, At last, unable to resume the conversation, he said abruptly:

"Do you know what I was thinking seriously of?"

"No; I cannot guess," replied Consuelo, who during all this time was lost in her own reflections, and did not observe his silence.

"I was thinking that if it would not tire you, you might teach me Italian as we went along. I began with books this winter, but having no one to guide me in the pronunciation, I dare not pronounce a word before you. Nevertheless I understand what I read, and if you would be so good as to cause me to surmount my false shame, and would teach me syllable by syllable, I think I have so correct an ear that you would not lose your trouble."

"Oh, with all my heart," replied Consuelo. "It would delight me if every one would thus employ their leisure moments in self-instruction; and as we learn by teaching others the exercise will serve to improve us both in the pronunciation of so musical a language. You think I am an Italian, but I am not, although my accent is tolerably pure. However, I pronounce perfectly only when I sing; and, when I wish you to seize the harmony of Italian sounds, I shall sing the difficult words to you. I am persuaded that no one pronounces badly who does not hear badly. If your ear appreciates the shades of sound, it will be but an effort of memory to repeat them correctly."

"That would be at the same time an Italian and a singing lesson," exclaimed Joseph, "and a lesson which would last fifty leagues," thought he in his ecstacy. "Ah! long live art, the least dangerous and ungrateful of all our passions."

The lesson began that instant, and Consuelo had at first some difficulty in not laughing outright at every word he uttered, but she was soon amazed at the facility and justness with which he corrected himself. However, the young musician, who was dying to hear the famous singer's voice, and who did not see an opportunity present itself quickly enough, succeeded by a little stratagem. He pretended to be greatly embarrassed in giving to the Italian à the proper force, and he sung a phrase from Leo, where the word Felicitià is several times repeated. Immediately Consuelo, without stopping or being more out of breath than if she were seated at the harpsichord, sang it several times. When he heard her glorious accents, so much superior to those of any other singer then existing, Joseph felt a thrill run through his whole frame, and he could not help clasping his hands in passionate admiration.

"It is now your turn to try," paid Consuelo, without perceiving his transports.

Haydn tried and succeeded so well that the young professor clapped her hands.

"Extremely well," said she good-naturedly, "you learn quickly and you have a magnificent voice."

"You may say what you like of it," replied Joseph, "but I feel that I can never trust myself to speak of you."

"And wherefore?" said Consuelo. But turning toward him she saw that his eyes were filled with tears, and his hands were clasped in ecstasy.

"Let us sing no more," said she, "here are some horsemen coming toward us."

"Ah! yes," exclaimed Joseph, quite beside himself; "do not let them hear you, for they would instantly throw themselves on their knees at your feet."

"I do not fear these frantic lovers of song. See, they are only butchers' boys with their calves behind them."

"Ah, pull down your hat, turn your head away," said Joseph, with a jealous pang. "Do not let them see you, do not let them hear you! Let no one see or hear you but me."

The remainder of the day was passed in serious study or gay and animated conversation. In the midst of his intoxication, Joseph did not know whether he was a trembling adorer of beauty or a devoted admirer of art. At once a dazzling idol and a delightful companion, Consuelo filled all his thoughts and transported his whole being. Toward evening he perceived that she walked with difficulty, and that fatigue had quenched her gaiety. Indeed for several hours previously, notwithstanding their frequent halts in the shady parts of the road, she had felt very weary. But she wished it to be so, and even had it not been evident that she must soon leave that part of the country, she would have sought in motion and a sort of forced gaiety, for forgetfulness of her mental pain and suffering. The shades of evening, which now gave a melancholy aspect to the country, brought back to her mind the sad feelings which she had so courageously combated. She then imagined to herself the mournful evening which was about to commence at the Castle of the Giants, and the dreary night which Albert might spend. Overcome by this idea, she involuntarily stopped at the foot of a large wooden cross on the summit of a naked hill, which marked the scene of some miracle or traditional crime.

"Alas! you are more fatigued than you are willing to allow," said Joseph; "but a resting-place is at hand, for I see in the distance the light gleaming from the cottages of a hamlet. You think perhaps that I would not be strong enough to carry you, nevertheless if you will trust——"

"My child!" replied she, smiling, "you are very proud of your sex; but I beg of you not to despise mine, and to believe that I have more strength left than you have yourself. I am out of breath climbing this ascent, that is all; and if I pause it is because I wish to sing."

"Heaven he praised!" exclaimed Joseph. "Sing then at the foot of this cross; but it will only tire you still more."

"It will not take long," said Consuelo; "it is a fancy which seized me to sing a little Spanish hymn, which my mother made me repeat every morning and evening, wherever we met a chapel or a cross."

Consuelo's idea was even more romantic than she was willing to admit. In thinking of Albert she recollected his almost supernatural faculty of seeing aud hearing at a distance. She fancied that at this very moment he thought of, and perhaps saw her; and thinking it might soothe his pain were she to sing to him, though night and distance separated them, she mounted the stones which supported the cross, and turning toward Riesenburg, she sung at the full pitch of her voice the Spanish hymn, commencing:

"O Consuelo de mi alma."

"Oh Heavens!" exclaimed Hadyn, when she had finished, and speaking to himself, "I never heard singing before. I did not even know what singing was. Are there other human voices like this? I will never hear any thing similar to what has been revealed to me today. O, music—thrice sacred music! O, genius of art, thou dost consume me—thou dost terrify me!"

Consuelo came down from the stone, where, like another Madonna, her profile stood out in relief against the clear azure of the night. Inspired like Albert, she fancied she saw him through the intervening woods and mountains, seated on the stone of Schreckenstein, calm, resigned, and filled with holy expectation. "He has perhaps heard me," thought she, "recognized my voice and the hymn which he loves, and will soon return to the castle, embrace his father, and perhaps spend a tranquil night."

"All is going on well," said she to Joseph, without heeding his passionate admiration. Then returning once again, she kissed the rude wood-work of the cross. Perhaps at this very moment, by some strange sympathy, Albert felt an electric impulse thrill through his melancholy being, and flood his soul with divine rapture. It might be the very moment when he was sinking into his calm and refreshing slumber, in which his father would have the satisfaction of finding him on the returning dawn.

The hamlet whose light they had perceived was nothing else than a large farm-house, where they were hospitably received. The honest and industrious laborers were eating their evening meal before the door, on a table of rude structure, at which room was made for the travelers without bustle or constraint. The peasants did not ask them any questions, and scarcely looked at them. Fatigued with the toils of the scorching day, they enjoyed their simple but wholesome and nourishing fare with silent satisfaction. Consuelo found the supper excellent, and did every honor to it. Joseph forgot to eat; besides, he was gazing at Consuelo's pale and noble countenance, which formed such a striking contrast with the sunburned peasants, tranquil and indifferent as the oxen that grazed around them, who made but little more noise than they did as they slowly ruminated.

Each as he felt himself satisfied retired to rest, making a sign of the cross, and leaving the more robust to enjoy the pleasures of the table as they thought fit. The serving women and the children took the vacant places. More animated and curious than their predecessors, they retained and questioned the young travelers. Joseph gave them an account which he had ready prepared to satisfy them, and did not deviate much from the truth in telling them that his companion and himself were poor wandering musicians.

"What a pity it is not Sunday," said one of the youngest girls, "for then we should have a dance." They cast inquiring glances on Consuelo, who appeared a pretty lad, and who, the better to sustain her part, looked boldly at them in return. For a moment she had sighed, when thinking of these delightful patriarchal manners, from which her wandering and artistic habits so widely severed her. But seeing these poor women standing up behind their husbands and cheerfully eating their leavings, some suckling their little ones, others slaves by instinct to their sons, and waiting upon them without minding their little girls or themselves, she perceived that they were no better than victims of hunger and necessity. The men chained to the soil, and servants to the cattle and the plow, the women chained to their masters, shut up in their houses in perpetual servitude, and condemned to unrelaxing labor, amidst all the sufferings and anxieties of maternity. The owner of the soil, on the one hand extorting the last penny of the husbandman's wretched gains, on the other hand, imparting avarice and fear to the tenant, who in his turn doomed those under him to the same sordid, remorseless necessity that he was subjected to himself. Their apparent cheerfulness now seemed to Consuelo nothing more than the callous indifference of misfortune, or the deadening effect of toil, and she felt that she would rather a thousand times be a wandering artist than lord or peasant, since the possession of the soil, or even of a grain of corn, seemed only to entail on the one side tyrannical exaction, and on the other meanness and sycophancy. "Viva la liberta!" said she to Joseph, speaking in Italian, while the women washed and laid aside the household utensils with huge clatter, and an aged crone plied her spinning-wheel with the regularity of a machine.

Joseph was surprised to find that some of these peasants spoke German tolerably well. He learned that the head of the family, whom he had seen dressed in the costume of a peasant, like the rest, was of noble extraction, and had received some degree of fortune and education, but ruined by the wars of the succession, he had no other means of rearing his numerous family than that of becoming tenant to a neighboring abbey. This abbey ground him to the earth with their exactions, and he was further obliged to liquidate the imperial tax on religious houses, which was imposed upon every change of their superior. This exaction was always levied from the vassals of the church, in addition to their other obligations. As for the farm servants, they were serfs, and considered themselves no worse off than the individual who employed them. The person who farmed the tax was a Jew, and, sent by the abbey whom he harassed to the peasants whom he harassed still more, he had come that morning to collect a sum which exhausted the hard earnings of many years. So that between their Superiors and the Jewish extortioners, the poor agriculturist did not know which to hate or dread the most.

"Did I not say truly, Joseph," said Consuelo, "that we alone are rich in the world, who pay no tax on our voice, and only labor when we please?"

The hour for repose having now arrived, Consuelo felt so much fatigued that she had fallen asleep on a bench before the door. Joseph, meanwhile, inquired about beds from the farmer's wife.

"Beds, my child?" replied she, smiling; "if we can give you one it will be very well, and you must be content with it."

This reply made the blood rush into poor Joseph's face. He looked at Consuelo, and finding she did not hear a word of what passed, he suppressed his emotion.

"My companion is sadly tired," said he, "and if you could give him a little bed to himself we will pay you whatever you ask. As for myself, a corner in the barn or in the stable will do very well."

"Oh, if the boy is ill, we will on that account give him a bed in the common room; our three daughters can sleep together. But tell him to be very quiet and orderly, or else my husband or son-in-law, who sleep on the same floor, will soon bring him to reason."

"I can answer for the good conduct of my companion; but perhaps he may still prefer sleeping in the hay to a chamber where there are so many people."

The good Joseph had now to awaken Signor Bertoni in order to acquaint him with this arrangement. Consuelo was not shocked as he expected. She thought as the three girls slept in the same room as the father and son-in-law, she would be safer there than elsewhere, and having wished Joseph a good night, she glided behind the four curtains of brown woolen which inclosed the bed, and, scarcely taking time to undress, she soon slept soundly.