Виктория Холт - On the Night of the Seventh Moon

I was trembling. I looked towards the shore. There was no sign of anyone. I knew that if I attempted to run he would overtake me. There would be a struggle and although I should employ every bit of strength I possessed, I knew that he would overcome me.

I cried out: “I want Fritz. What have you done with him?”

“Now you are being tiresome.”

“I insist.

“You insist? You are in no position to insist. Come, let us be friends before you die.”

“Before I die.”

“You are not your usual clever self today. You have accused me of treason. The penalty for treason is death. I do not want to die. So I cannot allow you to live after making such an accusation against me.”

“You are mad,” I said. And then I cried out in sudden fear:

“You have killed my son. ” “And now you are going to force me to kill you. I shall not enjoy that one little bit. I shall hate killing a woman whom I admire, especially one whom I have never really known and who has not become tiresome to me.”

“You have no regret for the death of those who have become tiresome, I see. Tell me,” I cried, ‘have you killed Fritz? “

He kept his grip on my arm and forced me towards the grave.

“You are a fool after all,” he said.

“Perhaps I should have tired quickly of you. You need never have died. You could have lived in retirement with Max. I should have allowed that. “

“You are mad,” I said.

I could see that this was so. He was mad with ambition, with the love of power and the burning desire to take from his cousin all that he had ever had.

“You will not live to see me rule Rochenstein, but before you die I am going to show you what kind of lover you turned your back on. Then I shall kill you and you shall join your son.”

Still gripping me, he kicked aside one of the planks. I looked down into the grave. Fritz was lying there.

“Oh God,” I cried, trying to struggle free. I wanted to go down there, to bring him up . my own son who had been taken from me at his birth and now that he had come back to me was in the grave.

I heard a shout from the bank then.

“Lencheni Lencheni’ ” Oh thank God,” I cried.

“It’s Maximilian.”

“Too late, cousin,” muttered the Count.

“By the time you are here I shall have been both your wife’s lover and murderer. Then I shall be ready for you. A triple funeral with some honours and in the royal avenue, I suppose.”

He had seized me. I fought with all my might. And then suddenly a shot rang out. The Count’s hold on me was relaxed. I sprang back in time to see him stagger like a drunken man -before he fell. Then I saw the rich red blood staining the grass.

“Maximilian,” I whispered, ‘you have killed him. “

I ran as fast as I could to shore. Maximilian was getting out of the boat. I fell into his arms and he held me against him. I stayed there only a second. I heard myself babbling something about Fritz, my son lying in a grave.

It is difficult to remember clearly what followed. I think I was in too great a state of shock to realize exactly what was happening.

Maximilian had descended into the grave; he held up Fritz; and another man had appeared on the scene. He carried a gun which he laid on the grass while he took Fritz from Maximilian.

He set him down gently on the ground and then Maximilian was beside me and we were kneeling down beside our son.

I was suddenly aware that the man who had joined us was the innkeeper.

“He’s not dead,” said Maximilian.

“We’ll get him back to ” Klocksburg without delay. “

“We’ll make a stretcher for him,” said the innkeeper.

“I’m glad I was there.”

“You shot him through the heart,” said Maximilian.

“And I’d do it again,” replied the innkeeper.

“I meant to get him and I did.”

We took Fritz back. Thank God it had not been the Count’s intention to kill the boy outright, for he could so easily have done so. He had knocked Fritz unconscious and thrown him into the grave, to be discovered the following day when the coffin of the innkeeper’s daughter was brought for burial. By that time Fritz would have died of his injuries, exposure or fever; and if he were not quite dead the Count’s spies would have found some way of killing him. It would appear, of course, that the boy had fallen into the grave and injured himself in the fall, I would not let him out of my sight and I was at his bedside when he regained consciousness so that I was the first person he saw when he opened his eyes. I put my face close to his and whispered: “Fritz. I am here with you. We’re going to be together for evermore.” He stared at me wonderingly and I went on: “You always wanted a mother, Fritz.

Now you have one. I am your mother. “

I don’t think he understood but my words had a comforting effect on him. I longed for the day when he would be well enough to understand fully the wonderful thing that had happened to us.

The day after that on which the Count had been murdered the French declared war on the Prussians and all the German states were involved.

These events dwarfed everything else into insignificance. As the Commander-in-Chief of the army, Maximilian had to prepare immediately to leave for the front. I was left behind and nursing Fritz back to health gave me something to work for during those dark days. I think the fact that I was his mother was such wonderful news that it speeded his recovery.

The Prince of Klarenbock, to whom Maximilian had told the whole story during his visit there, behaved magnanimously. He said his daughter must return to Klarenbock; and this she did in the company of Ilse; I heard later that Wilhelmina had entered a convent where she hoped to expiate the sin of attempted murder.

Soon after the outbreak of war the innkeeper was tried for the murder of the Count. Maximilian had asked for special leniency to be shown, for as the father of a girl whom the Count had seduced and deserted and who had killed herself because of this, he had committed the act under great provocation.

There was a war, said Maximilian, and all good men were needed at the front. He would personally vouch for the innkeeper.

And this he did.

While I was nursing Fritz back to health I used to talk to him of the wonderful time we would have when the war was over and he, I and his father were all together.

We used the Landhaus as a hospital and those were grave and anxious days when it was good to have plenty to do; but when the terrible casualties started to come in I was filled with terror lest one day they should bring in Maximilian. I don’t know what I should have done without Frau Graben. I have since discovered that I owe that woman a great deal.

At last came news of the great victory, the bells rang out from the Pfarrkirche. The French were in retreat and the Emperor was cornered at Sedan.

What joy there was on the day Maximilian came marching home.

We were together again. I was the first to greet him openly now. No more secrets. The story of our marriage, the death of the Count, the retirement of Wilhelmina into a convent, the discovery of our son-these were legends of the past. They had been swallowed up in the great event of war.

Maximilian was home! There was the great joy of bringing him and Fritz together. My son not only had a mother but a father whom he could love and respect.

The day I was able to say to my son: “Fritz, this is your father!’ and I saw how it would be with them, I said: ” This is the happiest day of my life. “

“So far,” added Maximilian.

What followed the battle of Sedan is well-known history. The French were utterly defeated; and the result was the unification of the German states as the German Empire under the leadership of the King of Prussia who had become the Emperor. He lived only a few months as Emperor and then his son William took the imperial title. The little principalities and dukedoms were absorbed in, that great Empire. There were no longer rulers of small territories; a duke in his schloss was of little more importance than an English country squire.

This is what happened to Maximilian and that was years ago.

As I write this we are in mourning for the death of Queen Victoria, for we have strong ties with England. It is over thirty years since the battle of the Sedan and I am no longer a young woman. I have my family around me. The eldest is Fritz, nearly a dozen years older than Max. Then I have my two daughters and another son. A big family which gives me great satisfaction.

Fritz is a gentle boy and clever too; he lectures at Bonn University.

The others are married now, with the exception of William, my youngest. Dagobert and Liesel joined us and when Princess Wilhehnina of Klarenbock left for her own country her son-who is Maximilian’s too-came to live with us. Dagobert climbed rapidly in the army, and Liesel is happily married.

Frau Graben naturally remained with us. She bullied us, watched over us and now and then would try to embroil us in those dramatic situations which so delighted her. We grew so accustomed to her as part of our household that when she died at the age of eighty it was like losing part of ourselves. She had had a good life.

Several years after Maximilian returned from the front, Anthony Greville came to visit us with his wife Grace-a pleasant, mild woman, a typical vicar’s wife; she was devoted to Anthony and it was not difficult to see why. He was so kind and considerate to everyone. When I saw them together I wondered whether I should have been like Grace if I’d married Anthony, living an easy pleasant life where the great moments of decisions were whether the mothers’ meeting should be held on Mondays or Wednesdays and who should have which stall at the sale of work.

Anthony looked at me a little wistfully when I took him round the schloss garden.

“Are you happy, Helena?” he asked.

And I replied fervently: “I could never have been completely happy in any other life.”

And when I look back I know that to be true. I have had my fears and anxieties; there have been differences between us and great difficulties to overcome; Maximilian had known what power meant and it had left its mark on him for ever; he was born to dominate and I don’t think I was born to be dominated. But whatever our differences we knew that we belonged together, that there was no true happiness apart from each other. I was right when I told Anthony that I could never have experienced those moments of complete and utter happiness in any other life; I have known great joy; perhaps I should say fulfilment those moments when one realizes that anything that has gone before is worth while to achieve them.

So here I am an old woman, yet I can still recall that terrifying day on the Island of Graves where I looked straight into the face of death and learned then how precious life was. I am immersed in the affairs of my home; not the political affairs which are no longer our concern but the domestic ones of those who farm and live on our estate. I have my family; I have Maximilian-I never quite got used to the diminutive form of his name, for to me he was always the hero of the forest, and he has never lost that magic quality which enchanted me on our first meeting.

In January of this year Queen Victoria died and this night is the Night of the Seventh Moon. Since the unification more than thirty years ago, the ceremony has not been celebrated, though many remember it and tell their children of it, and are afraid to go out on that night in case the God of Mischief should be abroad, What a beautiful night! With the full moon high in the s^cy paling the stars to insignificance and throwing its calm brilliance over the mountains.

I was at my window watching it, when Maximilian came g’nd stood by my side. We are two who will never forget the p-Tight of the Seventh Moon and we shall continue to celebrate it as long as we both shall live.