CHAPTER II.
It was broad daylight when Myrtle awoke amidst the deep solitudes of theSchlossberg, beneath an old fir-tree overgrown with moss and lichen. Athrush was whistling overhead; another was answering in the distance fardown the valley. The morning breeze was fanning the rustling foliage; butthe air, already warm, was loaded with the sweet perfumes of theground-ivy, the honeysuckle, the woodruff, and the sweetbriars.
The young gipsy opened her eyes with astonishment remembering, withsurprise and delight, that the voice of Catherine would no more troubleher, calling, "Myrtle! Myrtle! where are you, you idle child?" shesmiled, and listened to what gave her pleasure, the note of the thrushsinging among the trees.
Near at hand a spring was bubbling out of a cleft; the girl had but tolook round to see the living stream running, sparkling and clear, amidstthe long grass. From the rock high overhead hung an arbutus loaded withits gorgeous freight of scarlet berries.
Though Myrtle was thirsty she felt too idle to move amongst all thisbeauty and all this harmony, and she dropped her pretty brown face,smiling and admiring the daylight through her long dark lashes.
"This is how I am always going to be," she said. "How can I help it? I aman idle girl. I was made so."
Dreaming in this lazy way, the picture rose up in her mind of thefarm-yard with the proud cock strutting among his hens, and then sheremembered the eggs, how they used to find them in the straw in somecorner of the barn.
"If I had a couple of hard-boiled eggs," she thought, "just like thoseFritz had yesterday in his bag, with a crust of bread and a little salt,I should like it very well. But what signifies? When you can't get eggsyou have blackberries and whinberries."
A scent of whinberries made her little nostrils dilate with expectation.
"There are some here," she said; "I can smell them."
She was right. The wood was full of them.
In another minute, not hearing the thrush, she raised herself on herelbow and noticed the bird picking at the arbutus-berries.
Then she went to the brook and took a little clear water in her hollowhand, and observed that there was plenty of watercress.
Then she remembered what she had never taken the trouble to think ofbefore, some words of the _cure_, Niclausse about the birds of the airthat God provided for, and the lilies of the field that were morebeautiful than the glory of Solomon, and she remembered the lesson aboutnot being anxious for food and clothing, and thought that that would justsuit her, for she did not think of any of the teaching of the same greatTeacher about industry, and frugality, and living honestly, and so shecame to the satisfying conclusion that the true heathens were Catherineand all her people, who were so foolish and wicked as to plough, and sow,and reap, while she was the good Christian, because she was as idle asthe day was long.
She was still dwelling on these satisfactory deductions when there was asudden rustling among the dead leaves and a noise of footsteps.
She was going to run away when a gipsy lad of eighteen or twenty appearedbefore her--a tall, lithe, dark fellow with thick woolly hair, shiningblack eyes, and thick parted lips.
His eyes glittered as he cried--
"Almani!"
"Almani!" replied Myrtle, moved with much interest.
"Ha, ha!" cried the lad, "what gang do you go with?"
"I don't know--I am looking for it."
And without any concealment she told him how Bremer had found her andbrought her up, and how she had escaped yesterday from his house.
The young gipsy grinned, and showed a long double row of white teeth.
"I am going to Hazlach," he cried. "To-morrow there's a _fete_ there; ourband will all be there--Pfiffer Karl, Melchior, Blue-Titmouse, Fritz theclarionet, Coucou-Peter, and Magpie. The women are going fortune-telling,and we play the music. If you like, you may go with me."
"I will," said Myrtle, looking down.
Then he kissed her, laid his bag upon her back, and grasping his stick inboth his hands, he cried--
"Now you are my wife! You will carry the bag for me, and I will keep you.Forward!"
And now Myrtle, lazy as she had always been at the farm, started off withall possible willingness.
He followed her, singing, and tumbling over on his hands and feet toexpress his joy!
From that day Myrtle has never been heard of.
Fritz almost died of grief when he found that she did not return; but afew years later he found comfort in marrying Gredel Dich, the miller'sdaughter, a fine, stout, active girl, who made him an excellent wife; andCatherine, his mother, was quite pleased, for Gredel Dich was quite anheiress!
Only Bremer could not be comforted; he was as fond of Myrtle as if shehad been his own child, and he drooped visibly from day to day.
One winter's day when he had got up, and was looking out of the window,he saw a ragged but pretty gipsy girl passing through the village coveredwith snow, and with a heavy bag upon her shoulders, and sat down againwith a deep sigh.
"What is the matter, Bremer?" asked his wife.
There was no answer. She came close. His eyes were closing. There he laydead.