Read Online Burning Secret by Stefan Zweig - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stefan Zweig
Ads: Link
dark crimes. Yes, that was it, the Baron wanted to murder her, and that was why he had kept Edgar away and lured her here on her own. Should he call for help?Cry murder? The words were already in his mouth, but his lips were dry and couldn’t utter a sound. His nerves were on edge with agitation, he could hardly stand upright, he reached in his fright for something to cling to—and a twig cracked in his hands.
The couple turned in alarm and stared into the night. Edgar leaned against his tree in the dark, clutching it in his arms, his small body cowering in the shadows. All was deathly silent. But none the less, they seemed to have taken fright. “Let’s turn back,” he heard his mother say. She sounded anxious. The Baron, obviously uneasy himself, agreed. The couple walked back slowly, keeping very close. Their self-consciousness was lucky for Edgar. Ducking low in the undergrowth, crawling on all fours, his hands grazed and bleeding, he reached the bend in the road to the woods, and from there he ran back to the hotel as fast as he could go. He arrived out of breath, and then raced up the stairs. Fortunately the key that had locked him in was still in the lock outside the door; he turned it, ran into his room and threw himself on the bed. He had to rest for a few minutes, his heart was beating as wildly as the resonant clapper of a bell.
Then he ventured to get up, leaned against the window and waited for them to come back. It was quite a long wait. They must have been walking very, very slowly. He peered out, cautiously, for the window frame was not in the shadows. Here they came at a leisurely pace, moonlight shining on their clothes.They looked like ghosts in the greenish light, and again a not unenjoyable thrill of horror went through him: was the man really a murderer, what terrible deed had he, Edgar, just prevented by his presence? He could see their features clearly, white as chalk. There was an ecstatic expression on his mother’s face that he had never seen there before; the Baron’s expression, on the other hand, was harsh and sullen. No doubt because his plans had been foiled.
They were very close now. Their figures did not move apart until just before they reached the hotel. Would they look up? No, neither of them glanced at the window. You’ve forgotten me, thought the boy with wild inner rage, with a sense of secret triumph, but I haven’t forgotten you. I expect you think I’m asleep or I don’t count for anything, but you’ll soon find out how wrong you are. I’m going to watch every step you take until I’ve got the secret out of that horrible, nasty man. I’ll wreck the plot you’re hatching between you. I’m not asleep.
Slowly, the couple approached the door. And now, as they went in, one after another, the silhouettes came together again, and their shadow disappeared through the lighted doorway, a single black form. Then the forecourt of the hotel lay empty in the moonlight again, like a broad snowfield.
11
THE ATTACK
B REATHING HARD , Edgar stepped back from the window. He was shaken by horror. He had never in his life before been so close to anything so mysterious. The exciting world of his books, of adventures and suspense , that world of murder and betrayal had always, in his mind, existed on the same plane as fairy tales, close to the world of dreams, an unreal place and out of reach. But now, suddenly, he seemed to be in the middle of that terrifying world, and his whole being was shaken feverishly by such an unexpected encounter. Who was that man, the mysterious man who had suddenly come into their peaceful life? Was he really a murderer, always looking for out-of-the-way places, then dragging his mother off into the dark? Something dreadful seemed about to happen. He didn’t know what to do. In the morning, he decided, he would either write to his father or send him a telegram. But might not the dreadful thing happen now, this very evening? His mother wasn’t in her room
The couple turned in alarm and stared into the night. Edgar leaned against his tree in the dark, clutching it in his arms, his small body cowering in the shadows. All was deathly silent. But none the less, they seemed to have taken fright. “Let’s turn back,” he heard his mother say. She sounded anxious. The Baron, obviously uneasy himself, agreed. The couple walked back slowly, keeping very close. Their self-consciousness was lucky for Edgar. Ducking low in the undergrowth, crawling on all fours, his hands grazed and bleeding, he reached the bend in the road to the woods, and from there he ran back to the hotel as fast as he could go. He arrived out of breath, and then raced up the stairs. Fortunately the key that had locked him in was still in the lock outside the door; he turned it, ran into his room and threw himself on the bed. He had to rest for a few minutes, his heart was beating as wildly as the resonant clapper of a bell.
Then he ventured to get up, leaned against the window and waited for them to come back. It was quite a long wait. They must have been walking very, very slowly. He peered out, cautiously, for the window frame was not in the shadows. Here they came at a leisurely pace, moonlight shining on their clothes.They looked like ghosts in the greenish light, and again a not unenjoyable thrill of horror went through him: was the man really a murderer, what terrible deed had he, Edgar, just prevented by his presence? He could see their features clearly, white as chalk. There was an ecstatic expression on his mother’s face that he had never seen there before; the Baron’s expression, on the other hand, was harsh and sullen. No doubt because his plans had been foiled.
They were very close now. Their figures did not move apart until just before they reached the hotel. Would they look up? No, neither of them glanced at the window. You’ve forgotten me, thought the boy with wild inner rage, with a sense of secret triumph, but I haven’t forgotten you. I expect you think I’m asleep or I don’t count for anything, but you’ll soon find out how wrong you are. I’m going to watch every step you take until I’ve got the secret out of that horrible, nasty man. I’ll wreck the plot you’re hatching between you. I’m not asleep.
Slowly, the couple approached the door. And now, as they went in, one after another, the silhouettes came together again, and their shadow disappeared through the lighted doorway, a single black form. Then the forecourt of the hotel lay empty in the moonlight again, like a broad snowfield.
11
THE ATTACK
B REATHING HARD , Edgar stepped back from the window. He was shaken by horror. He had never in his life before been so close to anything so mysterious. The exciting world of his books, of adventures and suspense , that world of murder and betrayal had always, in his mind, existed on the same plane as fairy tales, close to the world of dreams, an unreal place and out of reach. But now, suddenly, he seemed to be in the middle of that terrifying world, and his whole being was shaken feverishly by such an unexpected encounter. Who was that man, the mysterious man who had suddenly come into their peaceful life? Was he really a murderer, always looking for out-of-the-way places, then dragging his mother off into the dark? Something dreadful seemed about to happen. He didn’t know what to do. In the morning, he decided, he would either write to his father or send him a telegram. But might not the dreadful thing happen now, this very evening? His mother wasn’t in her room
Similar Books
