THE FLIGHT.
Anthony Wallner sat in his lonely Alpine hut on the height near the village of Ober-Peischlag, and listened to the storm, which howled so loudly to-night that the but shook and he was unable to sleep on his couch of straw. He had lighted his lamp, and sat musingly at the pine table, leaning his head on his hand, and brooding mournfully over his dreary future. How long would he have to remain herein his open grave? How lone would he be chased yet, like a wild beast, from mountain to mountain? How long would he be obliged yet to lead an idle and unprofitable life in this frozen solitude, exposed to the fury of the elements, and in constant dread of losing this miserable life? These were the questions that he asked himself; intense rage seized his heart, tears of bitter grief filled his eyes--not however, at his own misfortunes, but at the miseries of his fatherland.
"What am I suffering for? What did I fight and risk my life for?
What did we all shed our blood for? What did our brethren die for on the field of battle? The fatherland was not saved, the French defeated us, and our emperor abandoned us. We were brave defenders of our country, and now they call us criminals; we intended to save the fatherland, and now they call us rebels and traitors! The emperor gives us away like a piece of merchandise, regardless of his sacred pledges, and the French are chasing us as though we were thieves and murderers! And Thou sufferest it, God in heaven? Thou--Hark! did not that sound like a shot? Is it the wind that is knocking so loudly at my door?"He sprang to his feet, took up his rifle, cocked it, and aimed at the door.
There was another knocking at the door; no, it was assuredly not the storm that was rapping and hammering at it so regularly. No, no, it was the enemy! He had spied him out, he had discovered his track, he had come to seize him!
"I will sell my life dearly," murmured Anthony Wallner, grimly. "Iwill shoot down the first man who opens the door; then I will force a passage through the ranks with the butt-end of my rifle, and--""Father," cried a voice outside, "father, open the door!""Great God!" murmured Wallner, "did not that sound like my Lizzie calling me? But that is impossible; it cannot be she; she cannot have ascended the mountain-path; the storm would have killed her, and--""Father, dear father, pray open the door," shouted the voice again, and somebody shook the door.
Wallner laid down his rifle and hastened to the door. "May God protect me if they deceive me, but I believe it is Lizzie."He threw open the door; the little Tyrolese lad rushed in, embraced him tenderly, kissed him with his cold lips, and whispered, "My father! thank God, I am with you!""It is Lizzie!" cried Wallner, in a ringing voice. "She has come tome through night and storm! It is my daughter, my dear, dear daughter! Oh, joy of my heart, how were you able to get up here in this terrible night? No man would have dared to attempt it.""But I dared it, father, for I am your child, and love you.""You love me, and I thank God!" he exclaimed, folding her tenderly and anxiously to his heart; "I thank God for saving you, and--"He faltered and burst into tears, which he did not try to conceal.
He wept aloud and bitterly, and Eliza wept with him, and neither of them knew whether they wept for joy or grief.
Eliza was the first to overcome her emotion. "Father," she said, raising her head quickly, "the enemy is on your track, and early to-morrow morning the French are going to occupy the mountain in order to arrest you. That is the reason why I have come up to you, for you must flee this very hour.""Flee?" he cried, mournfully. "How can I? The first Bavarian or French gendarme on the frontier, who meets me and asks me for my passport, will arrest me. I have no passport.""Here is a passport," said Eliza, joyfully, handing him the paper, "Siebermeier sends it to you.""The faithful friend! Yes, that is help in need. Now I will try with God's aid to escape. You, Lizzie, will return to mother, and bring her a thousand greetings from me; and as soon as I am across the frontier, you shall hear from me.""I must go with you, father," said Eliza, smiling. "The passport is valid for Siebermeier, the carpet-dealer, and his son. Now you see, dear father, I am your son, and shall flee with you.""No," cried her father, in dismay; "no, you shall never do so, Lizzie. I must journey through the wildest and most secluded Alps, and you would die in the attempt to follow me, Lizzie.""And even though I knew that I should die, father, I should go with you," said Lizzie, joyfully. "You cannot flee without me, and I do not love my life very dearly if it cannot be useful to you, dear father. Therefore, say no more about it, and do not reject my offer any longer; for if you do, it will be in vain, because I shall follow you for all that, and no road is too precipitous for me when I see you before the. Therefore, come, dear father; do not hesitate any longer, but come with your little boy. You cannot flee without me; therefore, let us try it courageously together.""Well, I will do so, my brave little boy; I believe I must comply with your wish," exclaimed Wallner, folding her tenderly to his heart. "You shall accompany me, you shall save your father's life.
Oh, it would be glorious if God should grant me the satisfaction of being indebted for my life to my dear daughter Lizzie!""Come, now, father, come; every minute's delay increases the danger.""I am ready, Lizzie. Let me only see if my rifle is in good order and put on my powder-pouch.""You cannot take your rifle with you, nor your powder-pouch either.
