Part 39 (1/2)
Maurice was among the first. He was a pa.s.sionate skater; and it was the one form of sport in which he excelled. As four o'clock came round, he could contain himself no longer; he would rather have gone without his dinner, than have missed, on the JOHANNATEICH, the two hours that elapsed before the sweepers, crying: ”FEIERABEND!” drove the skaters before them, with their brooms. In a tightly b.u.t.toned square jacket, the collar of which was turned up as far as it would go, with the flaps of his astrachan cap drawn over his cars, his hands in coa.r.s.e woollen gloves, Maurice defied the cold, flying round the two ponds that formed the JOHANNATEICH, or practising intricate figures with a Canadian acquaintance in a corner.
Madeleine watched him approvingly from one of the wooden bridges that spanned the neck connecting the ponds. She rejoiced at his glowing face and vigorous, boyish pleasure, also at the skill that marked him out as one of the best skaters present. For some time, Maurice tried in vain to persuade her to join him. Madeleine, usually so confident, was here diffident and timid. She had never in her life attempted to skate, and was sure she would fall. And what should she do if she broke a thumb or strained a finger?--with her PRUFUNG just before the door. She would never have the courage to confess to Schwarz how it had happened; for he was against ”sport” in any form. But Maurice laughed at her fears.
”There is not the least chance of your falling,” he cried up to her.
”Do come down, Madeleine. Before you've gone round twice, you'll be able to throw off all those m.u.f.flings.”
Finally, she let herself be persuaded, and according to his promise, Maurice remained at her side from the moment of her first, hesitating steps, each of which was accompanied by a faint scream, to the time when, with the aid of only one of his hands, she made uncertain efforts at striking out. She did not learn quickly; but she was soon as enthusiastic a skater as Maurice himself; and he fell into the habit of calling for her, every afternoon, on his way to the ponds.
Dove was also of a.s.sistance in the beginning, and, as usual, was well up in the theory of the thing, though he did not s.h.i.+ne in practice.
”Oh, bother, never mind how you go at first. That'll come afterwards,”
said Maurice impatiently. But Dove thought the rules should be observed from the beginning, and gave Madeleine minute instructions how to place her feet.
Towards five o'clock, the ice grew more crowded, and especially was this the case on Wednesdays and Sat.u.r.days, when the schools had half-holidays. On one of these latter days, Maurice did not find Madeleine at home; and he had been on the ponds for nearly an hour, before he espied her on a bench beside the GARDEROBE, having her skates put on by a blue-smocked attendant. He waved his cap to her, and skated over.
”Why are you so late?”
”Oh, thank goodness, there you are. I should never have dared to stand up alone in this crowd. Aren't these children awful? Get away, you little brutes! If you touch me, I'll fall.--Here, give me change,” she said to the ice-man, holding out a twenty-pfennig piece.
Maurice saw that she was unusually excited, and as soon as he had drawn her out of reach of the children, asked her the reason.
”I've something interesting to tell you, Maurice.”
But here Dove, coming up behind, took possession of her left hand, with no other greeting than the military salute, which, on the ice, he adopted for all his friends, male and female, alike; and Madeleine hastily swallowed the rest of her sentence.
They skated round the larger of the ponds several times without stopping. The cold evening air stung their faces; the sun had gone down in a lurid haze; Madeleine's skirts swayed behind her and lent her a fict.i.tious grace.
But presently she cried a halt, and while she rested in a quiet corner, they watched Maurice doing a complicated figure, which he and his Canadian friend had invented the day before. Dove was explaining how it was done--”It is really not so hard as it looks”--when, with a cry of ”ACHTUNG!” some one whizzed in among them, scattered the group, and, revolving on himself, ended with a jump in the air. It was James. He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose, in the most unconcerned manner possible.
”I don't think such acrobatic tricks should be allowed,” said Madeleine disapprovingly; she had been forced to grab Dove's arm to keep her balance.
”Say, do you boys know the river has six inches and will be open to-morrow, if it isn't to-day?” asked James, stooping to tighten a strap.
”Is that so? Oh gee, that's fine!” cried Miss Martin, who had skated leisurely up in his rear. ”Say, you people, why don't we fix up a party an' go up it nights? A lady in my boarding-house done that with some folks she was acquainted with last year. Seems to me we oughtn't to be behind.”
Miss Martin was a skilled and graceful skater, and looked her best in a dark fur hat and jacket, which set off her abundance of pale flaxen hair. Others had followed her, and it was resolved to form a party for the following evening, provided Dove had previously ascertained if the river actually was ”free,” in order that they ran no risk of being ignominiously turned off.
”The ice may be a bit rough, but it's a fine run to Connewitz.”
”An' by moonlight, too--but say, is there a moon? Why, I presume there ought to be,” said Miss Martin.
”'Doth the moon s.h.i.+ne that night we play our play?'” quoted Dove, examining a tiny pocket-calendar.
”Oh gee, that's fine!” repeated Miss Martin, on hearing his answer.
”Say, we must dance a FRANCAISE. Mr. Guest, you an' I'll be partners, I surmise,” and ceasing to waltz and pirouette with James, she took a long sweep, then stood steady, and let her skates bear her out to the middle of the pond. Her skirts clung close in front, and swept out behind her lithe figure, until it was lost in the crowd.
”Don't you wish YOU could skate like that?” asked the sharp-tongued little student, called d.i.c.kensey, who was standing beside Madeleine.
Madeleine, who held him in contempt because his trousers were baggy at the knees, and because he had once appeared at a ball in white cotton gloves, answered with asperity that there were other things in life besides skating. She had no further chance of speaking to Maurice in private, so postponed telling her news till the following evening.