Villa Eden Part 20

Joseph came into the stable, and after representing Eric's parents as veritable saints, he concluded,--

"You ought to be proud, Master Roland; the father educated the prince, and now the son is to educate you."

"Open the shutters, quick!" cried Claus suddenly. Joseph did so, and the trainer took up one of the puppies, drew up its eyelids, and exclaimed, "There, that's enough to show me that this one's eyes are just opening. Now don't let any more light in, or they will be spoiled."

In his interest in the animals, Claus forgot his shrewd two-fold plan; he went with Roland and Joseph into the court, where Roland immediately left them. He saw his father and Eric sitting together, and felt angry with Eric for not telling him directly who he was. Soon overcoming this feeling, however, he would gladly have hastened to him and embraced him, but he restrained himself, and only approached when he heard the whole party laughing.

He pressed close to Eric confidingly, and his eyes said, "I thank you; I know who you are."

Eric did not understand his glance, until Roland said,--

"The others have had you long enough, now come with me."

He accompanied Eric to his room, and seemed to be waiting to talk with him, but Eric begged to be left alone; he was inexpressibly weary, and, like a heavy burden, there lay upon his spirit the consciousness that he who enters the service of others cannot live his own life; especially if he attaches to himself a faithful soul which he is to mould, sustain, and guide, he must never be weary, never say, "Now leave me to myself," but must be always ready, always expectant, always at the beck and call of others.

Roland was much troubled at Eric's look of fatigue; he could not suspect that he was extremely dissatisfied with himself. It was not merely the weariness after imparting extensive and various knowledge which often brings a sense of exhaustion, it was pure chagrin that he had allowed himself to be beguiled into drawing a plan of vast extent, and for what object? The education of a single boy.

Eric's chief vexation was, however, that he was obliged to acknowledge himself still so undisciplined; he must become more self-restrained before he could give stability and right training to another. In this state of discontent he hardly heard the boy, who talked on about the wonderful opening of the dog's eyes, and kept asking him questions, and looking inquiringly in his face.

A servant entered, and announced that the carriages were ready for a drive.

Eric was startled. What sort of a life was this? To promenade in the garden, ride, drive, eat, amuse one's self. How could he guard and preserve his own inner life? How would it be possible to hold a young spirit to a definite course of constant self-development?

Eric's pride rose; he had not worked all his life for this,--exercised himself in earnest and strict renunciation for the sake of filling the intervals between driving and banqueting. The plan would be unbearable; he would have an arrangement which he could control and to which he could give the tone of his own mind.

He went into the court with Roland, and politely asked to be excused from the drive, as he felt the necessity of being alone for a few hours.

This announcement was received by glances of various expression. Herr Sonnenkamp said quickly, that he laid no sort of constraint upon his guests: Pranken and Fraulein Perini exchanged looks in which there seemed to be a malicious pleasure in the harm that Eric had done himself by the wilfulness which led to a want of tact.

Roland said at once that he would like to stay at home with Eric, but Pranken rejoined in an exultant tone:

"Herr Dournay just wishes to be alone; if you stay with him, my dear Roland, the gentleman will just not be alone."

He uttered the word "gentleman" in a peculiarly disagreeable tone.

The second carriage was sent away. Fraulein Perini, Pranken, and Roland entered the other; Sonnenkamp seated himself on the box; he was fond of managing four horses from the box-seat; four-in-hand was a great delight to him. This driving four-in-hand was generally taken for ostentation, but it was only a personal gratification.

Frau Ceres also remained behind; she had already exerted herself to be social quite enough for that day.

Eric watched the party drive off, then returned to his room.

He sat there alone in perfect quiet, more weary than it would have seemed possible to become in so short a time, but the day Lad been one of excitement, and full of a violent effort to make himself master over novel circ.u.mstances. How much he had been through! It seemed years since he looked over the Roman antiquities with Clodwig. During the day he had been obliged to turn over and over, and to unfold his own character and environment; he had tasted for the first time the humble bread of servitude, and the feeling, half of friendliness, half of ingrat.i.tude, the enigmatic in Sonnenkamp, in Roland, in Fraulein Perini, and Frau Ceres, seemed to him like the dim memory of a dream, like a far-off life, as his thoughts went home to his mother.

A profound home-sickness threatened to overcome him, but he shook it off resolutely. It must not be! His military training helped him; his orders were to stand at his post, keep a close watch, and never to tire.

"Never to tire!" he said half aloud to himself, and the consciousness of youthful vigor supported him. He felt that on the next day he could meet the problems before him full of fresh courage; and one thought above all others strengthened him, and lightened his heart: he had remained faithful to the truth, and so should it always be. Truth is that firm standpoint of mother-earth where the wrestling spirit is not to be conquered and thrown.

In the distance, from the railway station across the river, he now heard an idle locomotive blowing off steam. It snorted, shrieked, and panted like a fabulous monster; and Eric thought. This engine has all day been drawing trains of cars in which hundreds of human beings had, for the time, been seated, and now it is resting and letting off its hot steam. He smiled as he thought that he himself was almost such a locomotive, and was now cooling himself, to be fired up anew on the morrow.

Suddenly he was waked from sleep; for he had slept without intending to do so. A servant announced that Frau Sonnenkamp wished to speak to him.

CHAPTER IX.

A TWILIGHT RIDDLE.

The sun had set, but a golden haze enveloped valley, mountain and river, when Eric went with the servant, and from the corridor looked out over the distant prospect. He was conducted through several rooms.

In the last, where a ground-gla.s.s hanging-lamp was lighted, he heard the words, "I thank you,--be seated."

He saw Frau Ceres reclining on a divan, a large rocking-chair standing before her. Eric sat down.

"I have remained at home on your account," Frau Ceres began; she had a feeble, timid voice, and it was evidently, difficult for her to speak.

Eric was at a loss what to reply.

Suddenly she sat upright, and asked,--

"Are you acquainted with my daughter?"

"No."

"But you've been to the convent on the island?"

"Yes; I had a greeting to deliver from my mother to the Lady Superior--nothing farther."

"I believe you. I am not the cause of her becoming a nun--no, not I--do not think it," and reclining again on the pillow, Frau Ceres continued,--

"I warn you, captain, not to remain here with us. I have been informed of nothing--he has let me be informed of nothing--but do not stay with us, if you can find any other employment in the world. What is your purpose in coming into this house?"

"Because I thought--until an hour ago I believed--that I could be a fitting guide to your son."

And now Eric gave utterance to his inmost feeling of unfitness for being another's guide, and yet he must confess that no other person could have a stronger inclination to be, only some other might perhaps take it more easily. He unfolded from the very depths of his soul the newly awakened longing to plunge into solitary meditation, and lamented that one builds up an ideal of life and of work only to have it shattered in pieces upon the rock of actual existence; but it was only unvanquished self-seeking, for which his own thought, and not, the world, was to blame.

"I am not learned--I don't understand you," Frau Ceres replied. "But you speak so beautifully--you have such good expressions--I should like always to hear you speak, even if I do not understand what you are saying. But you will not let him know anything about my having sent for you?"

"Him? Whom?" Eric wished to ask, but Frau Ceres raised herself up hastily, and said,--

"He can be terrible--he is a dangerous man--no one knows it, no one would imagine it. He is a dangerous man! Do you like me too?"

Eric trembled. What did that mean?

"Ah! I do not know what I am saying," continued Frau Ceres.

"He is right--I am only half-witted. Why did I send for you? Yes, now I know. Tell me about your mother. Is she really a learned and n.o.ble lady? I was also a n.o.ble lady--yes, I was one indeed."

A fresh s.h.i.+ver pa.s.sed over Eric. Is this half lethargic, half raving person really insane, and kept within bounds in society only by the greatest care?