Down the Rhine; Or, Young America in Germany, Oliver Optic [best english novels to read .TXT] 📗

Dr. Winstock could hardly tell the story of one before another required attention. The railroads which extend along each side of the river, in several instances, passed under castles, towers, and ruins, whose foundations have been tunnelled for the purpose. At Andernach, the mountains on both sides come close to the river again, and the water flows through a kind of gorge between them.

"At Brohl, which you see on the left, a peculiar kind of stone is found, which has the property of hardening under water, and is, therefore, in great demand for the manufacture of cement," said Dr. Winstock. "The ancients used it for coffins, because the stone absorbed the moisture from the bodies. These quarries were worked by the Romans, who had a road to Cologne on the left bank of the river."

"There are mountains on the right," said Grace, some time afterwards.

"Those are the Siebengebirge, as they are called. Though the name indicates seven mountains, there are thirty summits. They are very picturesque, but they are only ten or fifteen hundred feet high," continued the doctor.

"There is a beautiful island in the middle of the river," added Paul. "It has an old building on it, and is covered with trees."

"That is Nonnenwerth, and the building is a convent. Do you see the castle on the left bank, opposite the island?"

"I see it."

"You must read Herr Bernard's Legends of the Rhine. You will find the book in Cologne, both in German and in English, though the English of the latter is execrable. You will find in it the story of Rolandseck, the castle on the left, and Nonnenwerth. Roland was the nephew of Charlemagne. He was engaged to a daughter of the Lord of Drachenfels, whose castle you see on the opposite side of the river. He went away to the wars, and during his absence, a false report came back that he was killed at Roncesvalles. His betrothed, in despair, entered the convent on the island, and took the black veil. Roland returned, but could not reclaim the bride. He built the castle on the left, where he could overlook her retreat, and lived the lonely life of a hermit. One evening, while he was gazing down upon the convent, he heard the bell toll, and saw a procession of nuns escorting a coffin to the chapel. His page soon brought him the intelligence that his lady was dead. He ordered his horse to be saddled immediately, and hastened to Spain, where, in a battle with the Moors, he was killed."

"Then these are the Drachenfels, on our right," said Grace.

"They are 'The Castled Crags of Drachenfels,' as Byron sings. From the top of this precipice, Cologne, twenty miles distant, can be seen."

"And that large town is Bonn," said Paul.

"Yes; the electors of Cologne—not the city, but the electorate—formerly resided here. The vast palace built for them in 1730, which is nearly a quarter of a mile long, is now used by the University of Bonn, where Prince Albert, Queen Consort, of England, was a student. The city has about twenty thousand inhabitants, and is a very beautiful place. When I was here, six years ago, I went out about a mile and a half to a church, on the top of the Kreuzberg. It formerly belonged to a convent; and in a chapel behind the high altar are exhibited what are called the Sacred Stairs, which led up to Pilate's judgment hall. No one is allowed to ascend them except upon his knees, and the stains of blood falling from the wounds caused by the Saviour's crown of thorns are pointed out. Those believe who can and will. There is a vault under the church, reached by a trap-door in the floor, which, by some remarkable property, has preserved undecayed the bodies of twenty-five monks. They lie in open coffins, clothed in cassocks and cowls. They are dried up, and look like mummies. Some of them were buried there four hundred years ago."

"What a horrible sight!" exclaimed the sensitive Grace.

"I did not see anything very horrible about it," replied the doctor, with a smile; "but I am a surgeon by profession. In Italy and Sicily there are many such exhibitions of the dead."

Below Bonn the banks of the river are level, or gently undulating, reminding the traveller of the Delaware above Philadelphia. The scenery is pleasant, but rather tame after the experience of the Drachenfels. At five o'clock the steamer reached Cologne, and passing under the great iron bridge, and through the bridge of boats, made her landing at the quay. The Grand Hotel Royal, in which accommodations had been engaged for the tourists, is situated on the bank of the river, and many of the party had rooms which overlooked the noble stream. There is no pleasanter occupation for a tired person than that of sitting at one of these windows, watching the flow of the river, and the variety of scenes which its surface presents.

It was a lively scene at the hotel in the evening. A few of the students took a walk through the narrow streets; but Cologne is not a pleasant place to walk in the evening. There are no sidewalks, and some of the streets are not wide enough to allow two vehicles to pass abreast, though in the more modern parts of the place this defect has been remedied. The Hotel Royal has broad halls, though there is no such thing as a public parlor, where the guests may meet together, as in American hotels. Captain Shuffles and Lady Feodora were promenading, while Paul and Grace had seated themselves in the coffee-room.

"I suppose, when we leave Cologne, we shall depart in different directions," said Shuffles.

"Papa says we shall go direct to Calais," replied Feodora, looking very sad, as, indeed, she felt when she thought of the separation.

"I believe our company are going by Charleroi to Paris, and from there to Brest. Probably we shall never meet again."

"O, I hope we shall!" exclaimed Feodora, looking up into his face.

"It is not very probable."

"You may come to England within a few years, perhaps a few months."

"It is possible. If I come out in the ship next spring, we shall sail up the Baltic, and make our first port at Christiansand, in Norway."

"I am afraid you don't wish to meet me again."

"I would cross the ocean for that alone," protested the gallant young captain.

"If you wished to meet me, I think you would find a way."

"Perhaps I ought not to meet you again," added Shuffles.

"Not meet me again! Pray why not?"

"Sir William very much prefers that I should not do so."

"Sir William!" repeated she, with an inquiring glance.

"I think he does not like my company very well."

"I do, if he does not."

Shuffles did not mention to her that he had conversed with the baronet about the matter, and that the latter had used some rather strong language to him. He was not disposed to make trouble.

"I have some idea of your relations with Sir William," added Shuffles, with considerable embarrassment.

"I haven't any relations with him, Captain Shuffles," replied she, fixing her gaze upon the floor, while her face crimsoned with blushes.

"I have been told that you were engaged."

"By our parents—yes. By myself—no. I dislike Sir William very much indeed; and I know my father will never do anything that will make me unhappy."

"Pardon me for alluding to the subject," said Shuffles.

"I am very glad you spoke of it."

"I should not have done so, if I had not had some doubts about seeing you again, even were an opportunity presented."

"Doubts about seeing me?"

"I mean because Sir William dislikes me," stammered the captain.

"He ought not to dislike you, after what you have done for him and me."

"He thinks I am too strong a friend of yours."

"I don't think you are. Why, you saved my life, and I should be very ungrateful if I did not value your friendship," replied Feodora, apparently investigating the texture of the wood of which the floor was composed.

"Then you value it because I rendered you a little service on the lake," added Shuffles.

"That assured me you were very brave and noble; and I am sure you have not done anything since which makes me think less of you."

"You are very kind; and it makes me have the blues to think of parting with you, perhaps never to see or hear from you again."

"Won't you write to me, as Miss Arbuckle does to the commodore, and tell me about your travels, and about your own country, when you return?"

"It would be a great satisfaction to me to have the privilege of doing so," said Shuffles, eagerly.

"I should prize your letters above all others," she replied.

"Will your father allow you to receive them from me?"

"Why should he not?"

"On account of Sir William."

"My father is one of the best and kindest men in the world, and he loves me with all his great soul. He has even told me that I might dismiss Sir William, when we return to England, if I found it impossible to like him," answered Feodora, artlessly; and English girls speak on such subjects with less reserve than American damsels.

"Here comes Sir William. I shall write to you at the first opportunity after we separate."

The baronet had been out to smoke; for young as he was, he had already formed this habit, which was one of Lady Feodora's strong objections to him,—he gave forth such an odor of tobacco. He frowned and looked savage when he saw the young couple together; but they continued their promenade in the hall, though they changed the subject of the conversation.

"Good evening, Sir William," said Ben Duncan, the inveterate joker, who saw the effect produced by the coming of the baronet, and wished to relieve the young couple of his company.

"Good evening, sir," replied the baronet, stiffly; for he was not disposed to be on very familiar terms with the young republicans.

"A friend of mine at the Gas-house—"

"At the what?" demanded Sir William, with a look of contempt.

"I beg your pardon. I mean the Gasthaus. But there were two or three English nobs there who were so gassy in their style, that I forgot my Deutsch for the moment. A friend of mine at the Gasthaus, am Holländischer Hof, expressed a strong desire to see you."

"Indeed! What friend of yours could desire to see me?"

"Well, I call him Elfinstone. If I were more polite than I am, I should say Lord Elfinstone; but he's just as good a fellow as though he were not a lord."

"Is it possible that Lord Elfinstone is in Cologne?" added the baronet.

"Do you know him?"

"I have not that honor."

"I have. I used to sail him in my father's yacht, when he was in New York," replied Ben; who, however, under any other circumstances, would not have troubled himself to make the young nobles better acquainted. "I will introduce you, if you like."

"Thank you," answered the baronet, with a promptness which indicated that he appreciated the honor in store for him. "I shall be under great obligations to you."

Taking the arm of Ben Duncan, who had suddenly risen in the estimation of Sir William, because he was on familiar terms with so distinguished a young gentleman as Lord Elfinstone, they left the hotel, very much to the satisfaction of Shuffles and Feodora.

"Perhaps there is another objection to our meeting again, or at least to permitting a friendship to grow up between us," said Shuffles, continuing the subject.

"What can there be?" asked Feodora.

"You belong to the nobility of England, while I am only the son of a Republican American."

"A fig for the nobility!" exclaimed she. "They are just like other people."

"I think so myself," replied Shuffles; "but there is some difference of opinion on that subject."

Sir William was duly presented to Lord Elfinstone, at the Holländischer Hof, and they did not part till after nine o'clock; so the young couple had the evening all to themselves. After the ice was broken, they probably