Memorials and Other Papers, vol 2 | Page 9

concealments of the
forest; in which case she herself, and the splendid booty of her carriage,
might be the first and easiest prey. Even at this moment, the very worst
of those atrocious wretches whom the times had produced might be
lurking in concealment, with their eyes fastened upon the weak or
exposed parts of the encampment, and waiting until midnight should

have buried the majority of their wearied party into the profoundest
repose, in order then to make a combined and murderous attack. Under
the advantages of sudden surprise and darkness, together with the
knowledge which they would not fail to possess of every road and by-
path in the woods, it could scarcely be doubted that they might strike a
very effectual blow at the Vienna caravan, which had else so nearly
completed their journey without loss or memorable privations;--and the
knowledge which Holkerstein possessed of the short limits within
which his opportunities were now circumscribed would doubtless
prompt him to some bold and energetic effort.
Thoughts unwelcome as these Paulina found leisure to pursue; for the
ruffian landlord had disappeared almost at the same moment when she
first caught a glimpse of him. In the deep silence which succeeded, she
could not wean herself from the painful fascination of imagining the
very worst possibilities to which their present situation was liable. She
imaged to herself the horrors of a camisade, as she had often heard it
described; she saw, in apprehension, the savage band of confederate
butchers, issuing from the profound solitudes of the forest, in white
shirts drawn over their armor; she seemed to read the murderous
features, lighted up by the gleam of lamps--the stealthy step, and the
sudden gleam of sabres; then the yell of assault, the scream of agony,
the camp floating with blood; the fury, the vengeance, the pursuit;--all
these circumstances of scenes at that time too familiar to Germany
passed rapidly before her mind.
But after some time, as the tranquillity continued, her nervous irritation
gave way to less agitating but profound sensibilities. Whither was her
lover withdrawn from her knowledge? and why? and for how long a
time? What an age it seemed since she had last seen him at Vienna!
That the service upon which he was employed would prove honorable,
she felt assured. But was it dangerous? Alas! in Germany there was
none otherwise. Would it soon restore him to her society? And why had
he been of late so unaccountably silent? Or again, had he been silent?
Perhaps his letters had been intercepted,--nothing, in fact, was more
common at that time. The rarity was, if by any accident a letter reached
its destination. From one of the worst solicitudes incident to such a

situation Paulina was, however, delivered by her own nobility of mind,
which raised her above the meanness of jealousy. Whatsoever might
have happened, or into whatever situations her lover might have been
thrown, she felt no fear that the fidelity of his attachment could have
wandered or faltered for a moment; that worst of pangs the Lady
Paulina was raised above, equally by her just confidence in herself and
in her lover. But yet, though faithful to her, might he not be ill? Might
he not be languishing in some one of the many distresses incident to
war? Might he not even have perished?
That fear threw her back upon the calamities and horrors of war; and
insensibly her thoughts wandered round to the point from which they
had started, of her own immediate situation. Again she searched with
penetrating eyes the black avenues of the wood, as they lay forced
almost into strong relief and palpable substance by the glare of the
lamps. Again she fancied to herself the murderous hearts and glaring
eyes which even now might be shrouded by the silent masses of forest
which stretched before her,--when suddenly a single light shot its rays
from what appeared to be a considerable distance in one of the avenues.
Paulina's heart beat fast at this alarming spectacle. Immediately after,
the light was shaded, or in some way disappeared. But this gave the
more reason for terror. It was now clear that human beings were
moving in the woods. No public road lay in that direction; nor, in so
unpopulous a region, could it be imagined that travellers were likely at
that time to be abroad. From their own encampment nobody could have
any motive for straying to a distance on so severe a night, and at a time
when he would reasonably draw upon himself the danger of being shot
by the night-guard.
This last consideration reminded Paulina suddenly, as of a very
singular circumstance, that the appearance of the light had been
followed by no challenge from the sentinel. And then first she