The Progressionists, and Angela. Part 23

"This Mr. Shund made quite a strong speech," said he, in a nonchalant way.

"He rather intensified the colors of truth, 'tis true," remarked Louise. "The ma.s.ses, however, like high coloring and vigorous language."

A servant brought the banker a note.

"Good! Shund is elected to the a.s.sembly! The span of bays belongs to me," exulted Carl Greifmann.

"Your bays Seraphin?" inquired the father. "How is this?"

Mr. Conrad had twice been informed of the wager; he had learned it first from Seraphin's own lips, then also he had read of it in his diary; still he asked again, and his son detailed the story a third time.

"I should sooner have expected to see the heavens fall than to lose that bet," added Seraphin.

"When a notorious thief and usurer is elected to the chief magistracy and to the legislative a.s.sembly, the victory gained is hardly a creditable one to the spirit of progress, my dear Carl. Don't you think so, Louise?" said the landholder.

"You mustn't be too rigorous," replied the lady, with composure. "Rumor whispers many a bit of scandal respecting Shund which does, indeed, offend one's sense of propriety; for all that, however, Shund will play his part brilliantly both in the a.s.sembly and in the town council. The greatest of statesmen have had their foibles, as everybody knows."

"Very true," said Gerlach dryly. "Viewed from the standpoint of very humane tolerance, Shund's disgusting habits may be considered justifiable."

Seraphin left the parlor, and retired to his room. Here he wrestled with violent feelings. His father's conduct was a mystery to him.

Opinions which conflicted with his own most sacred convictions, and principles which brought an indignant flush to his cheek, were listened to and apparently acquiesced in by his father. Shund's abominable diatribe had not roused the old gentleman's anger; Louise's avowed concurrence with the irreligious principles of the chieftain had not even provoked his disapprobation.

"My G.o.d, my G.o.d! can it be possible?" cried he in an agony of despair.

"Has the love of gain so utterly blinded my father? Can he have sunk so low as to be willing to immolate me, his only child, to a base speculation? Can he be willing for the sake of a million florins to bind me for life to this erring creature, this infidel Louise? Can a paltry million tempt him to be so reckless and cruel? No! no! a thousand times no!" exclaimed he. "I never will be the husband of this woman, never--I swear it by the great G.o.d of heaven! Get angry with me, father, banish me from your sight--it would be more tolerable than the consciousness of being the husband of a woman who believes not in the Redeemer of the world. I have sworn--the matter is for ever settled."

He threw himself into an arm-chair, and moodily stared at the opposite wall. By degrees, his excitement subsided, and he became quiet.

In fancy, he beheld beside Louise's form another lovely one rise up--that of the girl with the golden hair, the bright eyes, and the winning smile. She had stood before him on this very floor, in her neat and simple country garb, radiant with innocence and purity, adorned with innate grace and uncommon beauty. And the lapse of days, far from weakening, had deepened the impression of her first apparition. The storm that had been raging in his interior was allayed by the recollection of Mechtild, as the fury of the great deep subsides upon the reappearance of the sun. Scarcely an hour had pa.s.sed during which he had not thought of the girl, rehea.r.s.ed every word she had uttered, and viewed the basket of grapes she had brought him. Again he pulled out the drawer, and looked upon the gift with a friendly smile; then, locking up the precious treasure, he returned to the parlor.

He found the company on the balcony. The sound of trumpets and drums came from a distance, and presently a motley procession was seen coming up the nearest street.

"You have just arrived in time to see the procession," cried Louise to him. "It is going to defile past here, so we will be able to have a good look at it."

A dusky swarm of boys and half-grown youths came winding round the nearest street-corner, followed immediately by the head of a mock procession. In the lead marched a fellow dressed in a brown cloak, the hood of which was drawn over his head. His waist was encircled with a girdle from which dangled a string of pebbles representing a rosary. To complete the caricature of a Capuchin, his feet were bare, excepting a pair of soles which were strapped to them with thongs of leather.

In his hands he bore a tall cross rudely contrived with a couple of sticks. The image of the cross was represented by a broken mineral-water bottle. Behind the cross-bearer followed the procession in a double line, consisting of boys, young men, factory-hands, drunken mechanics, and such other begrimed and besotted beings as progress alone can count in its ranks. The members of the procession were chanting a litany; at the same time they folded their hands, made grimaces, turned their eyes upwards, or played unseemly pranks with genuine rosary beads.

Next in the procession came a low car drawn by a watery-eyed mare which a lad bedizened like a clown was leading by the bridle. In the car sat a fat fellow whose face was painted red, and eyebrows dyed, and who wore a long artificial beard. Over a prodigious paunch, also artificial, he had drawn a long white gown, over which again he wore a many-colored rag shaped like a cope. On his head he wore a high paper cap, brimless; around the cap were three crowns of gilt paper to represent the tiara of the pope. A sorry-looking donkey walked after the car, to which it was attached by a rope. It was the _role_ of the fellow in the car to address the donkey, make a sign of blessing over it, and occasionally reach it straw drawn from his artificial paunch.

As often as he went through this man[oe]uvre, the crowd set up a tremendous roar of laughter. The fat man in the car represented the pope, and the donkey was intended to symbolize the credulity of the faithful.

This mock pope was not a suggestion of Shund's or of any other inventive progressionist. The whole idea was copied from a caricature which had appeared in a widely circulating pictorial whose only aim and pleasure it has been for years to destroy the innate religious n.o.bleness of the German people by means of shallow wit and vulgar caricatures. And this very sheet, leagued with a daily organ equally degraded, can boast of no inconsiderable success. The rude and vulgar applaud its witticisms, the low and infamous regale themselves with its pictures, and its demoralizing influence is infecting the land.

The princ.i.p.al feature of the procession was a wagon, hung with garlands and bestuck with small flags, drawn by six splendid horses. In it sat a youthful woman, plump and bold. Her shoulders were bare, the dress being an exaggerated sample of the style _decollete_; above her head was a wreath of oak leaves. She was attended by a number of young men in masks. They carried drinking-horns, which they filled from time to time from a barrel, and presented to the _bacchante_, who sipped from them; then these gentlemen in waiting drank themselves, and poured what was left upon the crowd. A band of music, walking in front of this triumphal car, played airs and marches. Not even the mock pope was as great an object of admiration as this shameless woman. Old and young thronged about the wagon, feasting their lascivious eyes on this beastly spectacle which represented that most disgusting of all abominable achievements of progress--the emanc.i.p.ated woman. And perhaps not even progress could have dared, in less excited times, so grossly to insult the chaste spirit of the German people; but the social atmosphere had been made so foul by the abominations of the election, and the spirits of impurity had reigned so absolutely during the canva.s.s in behalf of common schools, that this immoral show was suffered to parade without opposition.

The very commencement of this sacrilegious mockery of religion had roused Seraphin's indignation, and he had retired from the balcony. His father, however, had remained, coolly watching the procession as it pa.s.sed, and carefully noting Louise's remarks and behavior.

"What does that woman represent?" he asked. "A G.o.ddess of liberty, I suppose?"

"Only in one sense, I think," replied the progressionist young lady.

"The woman wearing the crown symbolizes, to my mind, the enjoyment of life. She typifies heaven upon earth, now that exact science has done away with the heaven of the next world."

"I should think yon creature rather reminds one of h.e.l.l," said Mr.

Conrad.

"Of h.e.l.l!" exclaimed Louise, in alarm. "You are jesting, sir, are you not?"

"Never more serious in my life, Louise. Notice the shameless effrontery, the baseness and infamy of the creature, and you will be forced to form conclusions which, far from justifying the expectation of peace and happiness in the family circle, the true sphere of woman, will suggest only wrangling, discord, and h.e.l.l upon earth."

The young lady did not venture to reply. A gentleman made his way through the crowd, and waved his hat to the company on the balcony. The banker returned the salutation.

"Official Seicht," said he.

"What! an officer of the government in this disreputable crowd!"

exclaimed Gerlach, with surprise.

"He is on hand to maintain order," explained Greifmann. "You see some policemen, too. Mr. Seicht sympathizes with progress. At the last meeting, he made a speech in favor of common schools; he sounded the praises of the gospel of progress, gave a toast at the banquet to the gospel of progress, and has won for himself the t.i.tle of evangelist of progress. He once declared, too, that the very sight of a priest rouses his blood, and they now pleasantly call him the parson-eater. He is very popular."

"I am amazed!" said Gerlach. "Mr. Seicht dishonors his office. He advocates common schools, insults all the believing citizens of his district, and runs with mock processions--a happy state of things, indeed!"

"His conduct is the result of careful calculation," returned Greifmann.

"By showing hostility to ultramontanism, he commends himself to progress, which is in power."

"But the government should not tolerate such disgraceful behavior on the part of one of its officials," said Gerlach. "The entire official corps is disgraced so long as this shallow evangelist of progress is permitted to continue wearing the uniform."

"You should not be so exacting," cried Louise. "Why will you not allow officials also to float along with the current of progress until they will have reached the Eldorado of the position to which they are aspiring?"

"The corruption of the state must be fearful indeed, when such deportment in an officer is regarded as a recommendation," rejoined Mr.

Conrad curtly.

A servant appeared to call them to table.

"Would you not like to see the celebration?" inquired Louise.

"By all means," answered Gerlach. "The excitement is of so unusual a character that it claims attention. You will have to accompany us, Louise."

"I shall do so with pleasure. When sound popular sentiment thus proclaims itself, I cannot but feel a strong desire to be present."

The procession had turned the corner of a street where stood Holt and two more countrymen looking on. The religious sentiment of these honest men was deeply wounded by the profanation of the cross; and when, besides, they heard the singing of the mock litany, their anger kindled, their eyes gleamed, and they mingled fierce maledictions with the tumult of the mob. Next appeared the mock pope, dispensing blessings with his right hand, reaching straw to the donkey with his left, and distorting his painted face into all sorts of farcical grimaces.

The peasants at once caught the significance of this burlesque. Their countenances glowed with indignation. Avenging spirits took possession of Mechtild's father; his strong, stalwart frame seemed suddenly to have become herculean. His fist of iron doubled itself; there was lightning in his eyes; like an infuriated lion, he burst into the crowd, broke the line of the procession, and, directing a tremendous blow at the head of the mock pope, precipitated him from the car. The paper cap flew far away under the feet of the bystanders, and the false beard got into the donkey's mouth. When the mock pope was down. Holt's comrades immediately set upon him, and tore the many-colored rag from his shoulders. Then commenced a great tumult. A host of furious progressionists surrounded the st.u.r.dy countrymen, brandis.h.i.+ng their fists and filling the air with mad imprecations.

"Kill the dogs! Down with the accursed ultramontanes!"

Some of the policemen hurried up to prevent bloodshed. Mr. Seicht also hurried to the scene of action, and his shrill voice could be heard high above the noise and confusion.

"Gentlemen, I implore you, let the law have its course, gentlemen!"

cried he. "Gentlemen, friends, do not, I beg you, violate the law!

Trust me, fellow-citizens--I shall see that the impertinence of these ultramontanes is duly punished."

They understood his meaning. Sticks and fists were immediately lowered.