On the Night of the Seventh Moon

“You must visit our Pfarrkirche,” Ilse told me, pointing out the church.

“The Processional Cross is locked away but it will be brought out to show you, I dare say.”

“It’s so exciting to be back,” I told her.

“We’re just in time for the Night of the Seventh Moon,” she said.

I could hear his voice then distinctly.

The Seventh Moon,” I cried, ‘when Loke, the God of Mischief is abroad and routed by the All-Father Odin.”

Ilse laughed delightedly.

“Your mother made you aware of our legends, I see,” she said.

“This, though, is rather a local one.”

We had passed through the centre of the town and had reached its outskirts. The house was a mile or so from the Altstadt. We turned in at a drive, where the fir trees which lined it were thick and rather stubby and pulled up before a porch.

The house was about the same size as the hunting lodge and not unlike it; there was the hall, on the walls of which hung spears and guns, and a wood-staircase led to a landing on which were the bedrooms. I was taken to mine, and hot water was brought; I washed and went down to a meal of sausages, sauerkraut and rye bread which Ilse and I took alone. Ernst was resting. The journey had been so exhausting for him. Ilse explained. I was probably a little tired too, more so than I realized.

I had never felt less so.

Ilse smiled indulgently. She was delighted by my pleasure. I wondered what she would think if she knew its true source and that my excitement was due to the fact that I was hoping to meet Siegfried again.

That afternoon we went in the trap for a trip into the forest and I was enchanted by the mist of blue gentians and pink orchids. I wanted to gather them but Ilse said they would soon die if I did. So I left them.

I slept little that night. I was so excited. I couldn’'t get out of my mind the belief that I was going to see him again. He would come hunting and we would meet in the forest. We must. It couldn’'t possibly happen that we never met again and I could not stay here for ever, so it had to happen soon.

I looked eagerly about me during the ride but we saw hardly anyone-only an old woman collecting sticks for firewood and a cow-herd with his cows whose bells about their necks tinkled melodiously as they walked.

The next day I went into the market, which was being decorated with flags because this was the night of the full moon the seventh of the year; the night of festivities when the god Loke was supposed to be abroad.

“You’ll see the girls in their red skirts and white embroidered blouses and yellow tasselled aprons,” Ilse told me.

“Some of the men will be masked; they may be dressed as gods in doublet and hose and light capes; they’ll be masked and wear horns on their heads. You`’ve probably seen the pictures of the gods in your mother’s books. They’ll dance and play tricks. The idea being that none will know which represents Loke and which the All-Father. You must see it. We’ll go into the market-square as soon as the moon rises.”

I had not seen Ernst all day. He was very self-effacing and so quiet that one could almost believe he was not there.

“He has changed a great deal since his illness,” explained Ilse.

“He suffers a great deal more than he admits.”

So Ernst stayed in his room and Ilse and I were together most of the time. We talked a great deal! more than she. I suppose Aunt Caroline was right when she said I’talked too much; Ilse was the perfect listener, and I did not notice that she was not so much exchanging chatter as being an audience for me.

And so came the evening of that second day-the prelude to the Night of the Seventh Moon. We had eaten what she called the English high tea as it was too early for dinner and she did not wish us to be out too late when the excitement was supposed to warm up and the fun might get too fierce.

After this high tea she came to my room, her face grave.

“I can’t allow Ernst to go out,” she said.

“He’s not well enough.”

“So there’ll be just the two of us.”

‘. I hardly think we ought to go. “

“Not go!”

“Well, on occasions like these two women on their own.

“Oh, but we must go.”

She hesitated.

“Well, we must not stay late. We’ll slip out to the market-square and we’ll see the start of it. What a pity we haven’t a house on the square. Then you could watch from a window. Ernst will be very anxious. He won’t rest till we’re back.”

“Isn’t there some man who could escort us? If we need one.”

She shook her head.

“This is not really our home. We have just taken this house for a holiday. We have been here before but we don’t really have friends in the neighbourhood. You understand?

“Of course,” I said.

“Well, we’ll go early and not upset Ernst.”

So that was how we came to be standing in the square with the revellers all about us. It was about eight o’clock in the evening.

Overhead hung the great moon-the seventh moon of the year and there seemed to be something mystical about it. It was a strange scene; naphtha flares burned from iron jets lighting the faces of the people.

There were crowds in the square; people were signing and calling to each other. I caught sight of a man masked, with the homed headdress which Ilse had described, and I recognized it at once from pictures my mother had shown me. Then I saw another and another.

Ilse squeezed my hand.

“What do you think of it?”

Wonderful,” I said.

“Keep close. The crowd’s thickening and they may become overexcited.”

“It’s early yet,” I told her.

I saw a girl seized by one of the horn-headed men and go dancing off with him.

“The excitement grows. You’ll see.”

“What happens if the sky is overcast and there’s no moon?”

“Some say that Loke is sulking and won’t come out, others that he’s playing one of his mischievous tricks and then one has to be especially careful.”

A group of fiddlers arrived, started to play and the dancing began.

I don’t know quite how it happened; it was the way these things do happen in crowds, I supposed. One minute I was standing there by Use’s side watching the laughing and dancing swirl of people and the next there was chaos.

It began with a sudden splash. Someone had been thrown into the pond; there was a rush towards it and in the melee Ilse was no longer beside me.

I was firmly gripped by the hand and I felt an arm about my waist. A voice which made my heart hammer said in my ear:

“Lenchen!” I turned and looked up into that face; I saw the masked eyes and the laughing mouth. I could never be mistaken.

“Siegfried,” I whispered.

“Himself,” he answered.

“Come out of the crowd.”

He kept his grip on me and we were soon on the edge of it. He took my chin in his hands.

“Still the same Lenchen.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Celebrating the Night of the Seventh Moon,” he said.

“But this is an even more important occasion. The return, of Lenchen.”

He was drawing me farther and farther away from the crowd and we were in a small street in which there were only a few revellers.

I said: “Where are you taking me?”

“Let’s go back to the lodge,” he said.

“There’ll be supper waiting there. You shall wrap yourself in a blue velvet robe and loosen your hair.”

I must find Ilse. “

Who? “

“My cousin who brought me here. She will be worried.”