CHAPTER XIII.

BANISHED FROM EDEN.

Silence reigned on the height. The winds had died away, the clouds were

scattering swiftly, like an army of ghosts. The embers of the wood

below crackled softly. The trunks had all been gnawed to the roots by

the fiery tooth of the flames. It was like a churchyard full of clumsy

black crosses and grave-stones on which the souls danced to and fro

like will-o'-the-wisps.

The countess rested silently on Freyer's breast. When he said: "The

wood was mine!" she had thrown herself, unable to utter a word, into

his arms--and had since remained clasped in his embrace in silent,

perfect peace.

Now the misty veil, growing lighter and more transparent, at last

drifted entirely away, and the blue sky once more arched above the

earth in a majestic dome. Here and there sunbeams darted through the

melting cloud-rack and suddenly, as though the gates of heaven had

opened, a double rainbow, radiant in seven-hued majesty, spanned the

vault above them in matchless beauty.

Freyer bade the countess look up. And when she perceived the exquisite

miracle of the air, with her lover in the midst--encompassed by it, she

raised her head and extended her arms like the bride awaiting the

heavenly bridegroom. Her eyes rested on him as if dazzled: "Be what you

will, man, seraph, God. Shining one, you must be mine! I will bring you

down from the height of your cross, though you were nailed above with

seven-fold irons. You must be mine. Freyer, hear my vow, hear it, ye

surrounding mountains, hear it, sacred soil below, and thou radiant

many-hued bow which, with the grace of Aphrodite, dost girdle the

universe, risen from chaos. I swear to be your wife, Joseph Freyer,

swear it by the God Who has appeared to me, rising from marvel to

marvel, since my eyes first beheld you."

Freyer, with bowed head, stood trembling before her. He felt as if a

goddess was rolling in her chariot of clouds above him--as if the

glimmering prism above were dissolving and flooding him with a sea of

glittering sparks. "You--my wife?" he faltered, sobbing, then flung

himself face downward before her. "This is too much--too much--"

"You shall be my husband," she murmured, raising him, "let me call you

so now until the priest's hand has united us! When, where, and how this

can be done--I do not yet know! Let the task of deciding be left to

hours devoted to the consideration of earthly things. This is too

sacred, it is our spiritual marriage hour, for in it I have pledged

myself to you in spirit and in truth! Our church is nature, our

witnesses are heaven and earth, our candles the blazing wood

below--your little heritage which you sacrificed for me with a smile!

And so I give you my bridal kiss--my husband!"

But Freyer did not return the caress. The old conflict again awoke--the

conflict with his duty as the representative of Christ.

"Oh, God--is it not the tempter whom Thou didst send to Thy own son on

Mt. Hebron that he might show him all the splendors of the world,

saying: 'All shall be thine?' Dare I be faithless to the character of

Thy chaste son, if Thou dost appoint me to undergo the same trial? Dare

I be happy, dare I enjoy, so long as I wear the sacred mask of His

sufferings and sacrifice. Will it not then be a terrible fraud, and

dare I enter the presence of God with this lie upon my conscience? Will

He not tear the crown of thorns from my head and exclaim: 'Juggler--I

wish to rise by the pure and saintly--not by deceivers who _feign_ my

sufferings and with deceitful art turn the holiest things into a farce.

Woe betide me, poor, weak mortal that I am--the trial is too severe. I

cannot endure it. Take Thy crown--I place it in Thy hands again--and

will personate the Christ no more."

"Joseph!" exclaimed Countess Wildenau, deeply moved. "Must this be? I

feel your anguish and am stirred as if we were parting from our dearest

possession." She raised her tearful eyes heavenward. "Must the Christ

vanish on the very day I plight my troth to him whom I love as Thy

image, even as Eve must have loved Adam _for the sake of his likeness

to God_. And must I, like Eve, no longer behold Thy face because I have

loved the divine in mortal form after the manner of mortals? Unhappy

doctrine of the fall of man, which renders the holiest feeling a crime,

must we too be driven out of Paradise, must you stand between us and

our happy intercourse with the deity? Joseph. Do you believe that the

Saviour Who came to bring redemption to the poor human race banished

from Eden, will be angry with you if you represent with a happy loving

heart the sacrifice by which He saved us?"

"I do not know, my beloved, you may be right. Even the time-honored

precepts of our forefathers permit the representative of the Christ to

be married. Yet I think differently! The highest demands claim the

loftiest service! Whoever is permitted to personate the Saviour should

have at that time no other feelings than moved Christ Himself, for

_truth_ may not be born of _falsehood_."

He drew the weeping woman to his heart. "You know, sweet wife--to love

_you_ and call you _mine_ is a very different thing from the monotonous

commonplace matrimonial happiness which our plain village women can

bestow. You demand the _whole_ being and every power of the soul is

consumed in you."

He clasped her in an embrace so fervent that her breath almost failed,

his eyes blazed with the passionate ardor with which the unchained

elements seize their prey. "Say what you will, it is on your

conscience! I can feel nothing, think of nothing save you! Nay, if they

should drive the nails through my own flesh, I should not heed it, in

my ardent yearning for you. I have struggled long enough, but you have

bewitched me with the sweet promise of becoming my wife--and I am

spoiled for personating the Christ. I am yours, take me! Only fly with

me to the farthest corner of the world, away from the place where I was

permitted to feel myself a part of God, and resigned it for an earthly

happiness."

"Come then, my beloved, let us go forth like the pair banished from

Eden, and like them take upon us, for love's sake, our heavy human

destiny! Let us bear it together, and even in exile love and worship,

like faithful cast-off children, the Father who was once so near us!"

"Amen!" said Freyer, clasping the beautiful woman who thus devoted her

life to him in a long, silent embrace. The rainbow above their heads

gradually paled. The radiant splendor faded. The sun was again

concealed by clouds, and the warm azure of the sky was transformed into

a chill grey by the rising mists. The mountain peak lay bare and

cheerless, the earth was rent and ravaged, nothing was visible save

rough rubble and colorless heather. An icy fog rose slowly, gathering

more and more densely around them. Nothing could be seen save the

sterile soil of the naked ridge on which stood the two lonely outcasts

from Eden. The gates of their dream paradise had closed behind them,

the spell was broken, and in silent submission they moved down the

hard, stony path to reality, the cruel uncertainty of human destiny.