e
beautiful woman whom he loved, who loved him. She was pale and seemed
dead. He did not carry her into the room, he did not let her fall to
the ground, he did nothing to revive her. He stood bewildered; he did
not know what had happened to him, he had to collect himself.
Valentine had not yet spoken with him, he had only heard from the
journeyman who was hastening to St. George's that Apollonius was
following him and would soon be there. Apollonius had been detained at
the gate for a moment by the nail-smith. He had then made haste to
obey his father's command which he, however, found surprising, as he
could discover no reason for it. He had heard of the slater's death in
Tambach; but he did not know that rumor had confused the names of the
two places, and that it was possible for anybody to believe that the
accident had occurred to him. Absolutely unprepared for that which was
to happen in the next moment, he came through the shed. He had meant
to go straight to his father in his room, when, seeing Christiane fall
fainting to the ground, he hastened toward her. Now he held her in his
arms. Slowly her deep blue eyes opened. She looked at him and
recognized him. She did not know how she had come into his arms, she
did not know that she lay there, she knew only that he lived. She wept
and laughed at the same time, and put both arms around him to be sure
that he was there. She asked in yearning, anxious eagerness: "Is it
you? Are you really here? Are you still alive? You didn't fall? I
didn't kill you? You are you, and I am I? But he--he may come." She
gazed about wildly. "He will kill you. He will not rest till he has
killed you." She clasped him to her as if she wanted to cover him with
her body from the enemy, then she forgot all fears in the certainty
that he still lived, and she laughed and wept and asked him again if
it were really he, and if he were alive. But she must warn him. She
must tell him everything that the other had done--and what he had
threatened to do to him. She must do it quickly; any minute he might
come. Warning, sweet unconscious love-words, weeping, laughter,
blessed gladness, fear, anguish over lost happiness, bride-like
embarrassment, forgetfulness of the world in the one moment which was
life to her--all this trembled through each quivering word she
uttered. "He lied to you and to me. He told me that you jeered at me
and that you had offered my flower to the highest bidder. You know, at
the Wh