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A gleam of pleasure from Eric's eyes rested on the good Fraulein, and at that moment a secret bond of union, a sense of mutual understanding, was formed between them.
Accompanied by both as far as the garden-gate, Eric left the house.
When the door was opened, a brown and white spaniel jumped upon the Major.
"Halloo!" cried the Major, in a tone of mingled scolding and caress, "where have you been again, you disorderly vagabond, who can tell where? and here we've had a visitor; old as you are, you will never learn good behavior and regular habits. Shame on you--shame!"
So spoke the Major to his dog Laadi, well-known in all the country round; he kept a female dog, because the village dogs never fought with her.
As the Major left the garden with Eric, he said,--
"Look at these two posts, these closely-trimmed ash-trees. Several years ago I noticed that the one at the left got its leaves ten or eleven days before the one at the right. Now, once the frost came unexpectedly, and the leaves withered on the left-hand one, and it drooped all summer; since then it has been prudent, and lets the other get its leaves first, and then itself leaves out. Doesn't it seem as if trees had understanding? Yes, dear comrade, everything is better arranged in the world than we understand, and, look you, though I have a pension and nothing to do, I have so many things to keep in sight, that the day is often too short. Now, good-by, and remember that you can always feel at home with us."
And as Eric shook hands, he added:--
"I thank you, for now I have another man to hold dear, and that's the best thing in the world to keep one young and sound."
Eric had gone several steps, when the Major called to him to stop, and coming up to him, said:--
"Yes, as to Herr Sonnenkamp--do not be led astray, comrade. Men of the world either make an idol of a successful man, or they abuse him. Herr Sonnenkamp is somewhat rough outside, but he is good at heart; and, as to his past history, who is there who can feel satisfied with all his past life? can any man? certainly not I, and I don't know anyone who can. I have not always lived as I wish I had. But enough, you are wiser than I."
"I understand perfectly," replied Eric. "American life is an existence without a seventh day of rest; there is a continual working and striving to win money, nothing else. If men have led such a life for half a score of years, they lose the power of turning to anything else; they say to themselves that if they only had enough--ah, those who strive for gold never get enough--they say then they would devote themselves to n.o.bler ends. If it were only still possible! I understand you, and wonder at Herr Sonnenkamp."
"Just so--just so," said the Major, "he must have dragged himself through a good deal of mud, as a gold-hunter, to get such a great property together. Yes, yes, I am easy--you are wiser than I. But now, just for the first time, the main question occurs to me--look at me, tell me honestly, is it true that you have been to see Fraulein Manna at the convent?"
"I have been at the convent, and saw Fraulein Manna, but without knowing her or speaking to her."
"And you didn't come to establish yourself in the house, in order to marry the daughter?"
Eric smiled, as he said in reply, how strangely this question came to him from every direction.
"Look you, comrade, put the maiden out of your thoughts, she is as good as betrothed to Baron Pranken--I would rather you should have her, but it can't be changed."
Eric at last got away, and went back toward the villa with cheerful thoughts. Good powers were working together to keep Roland constantly in a circle of thought and feeling, from which he might not deviate through his whole life.
He stopped before a wide-spreading walnut tree, and looked up smiling into its rich branches.
"Sonnenkamp is right," he said to himself; "the planting of trees and their growth depend upon the surrounding heights and the prevailing winds. There are nervous trees, which are killed by the blasts, and others which only strike root when they are blown this way and that by the wind. Is not the life of man such a plant? the men around it const.i.tute its climatic zone."
Eric thought he was constantly getting a better insight into the influences which were helping, and those which were hindering, the true growth of his pupil.
How rich is the world! Up there at the castle sits the old count by his young wife's side, and creates for himself an ideal realm of thought, after a full and active life;--here sits the old Major with his housekeeper. How Bella would turn up her nose if she were compared with that housekeeper, and yet--
Suddenly Eric heard carriage wheels behind him, and a man's and a woman's voice called out to him.
CHAPTER VI.
A THIRD PERSON.
On the day that Eric had left Castle Wolfsgarten, an habitual visitor made his appearance there; this was the son of the eminent wine-merchant, the so-called Wine-count. He came once a week, to play chess with the count. He looked young, but he was worn out in soul, not knowing what to do in the world; he derived no satisfaction from the business of his father, had money enough, had learned a variety of things, was something of a musician, drew a little, had very various talents, but no one predominant. All was wearisome to him; hollow and stale seemed that enjoyment of life which was to be decorously pursued.
Wherefore should he devote himself to the restricted limits of some regular pursuit, in order to make money? That is wholly needless. He was a director in several railroads, and for a period it had satisfied him to oversee and to manage, to be saluted respectfully, and listened to obsequiously, by the subordinates held strictly to their place; but that too became distasteful to him. Travelling, too, proffered him nothing further, one had to drag along with himself continually such an extra weight of ennui. He turned a disgusted eye upon the world which had nothing to do for him, and in which he could do nothing. He had cultivated one talent, that of chess-playing, and as Clodwig also took great pleasure in the game, and was skilful in it, he came every week to Wolfsgarten, and played with Clodwig, for it conferred upon him a special regard in his own eyes, and in those of others.
He had also a great reputation, among all those in the neighborhood who prided themselves upon the same qualities as he, of being a rake, and appearing to the world as a gallant. He had a collection of lewd pictures of every kind, and one must be very intimate with him to be able to say that he had seen them all, even to the most carefully hidden. Of course the Wine-chevalier presented a very respectable appearance before the world. No one had ever seen him intoxicated, and, in general society, he always played the part of one very condescending and indifferent, who is yet so n.o.ble as to remain in intercourse with these inferior people, as much as to say. One owes that much for old acquaintance' sake. Mothers always warned their daughters of the Wine-chevalier, just as one speaks to children of the wolf howling outside there in the fields, but the mothers themselves did not take it in bad part when he sometimes cast a languis.h.i.+ng glance upon them, and even when he frequently said something to them in whispers.
The Justice's daughter, Lina, was not so simple as the mother always said, for she declared that the Wine-chevalier was that transformed manikin in the fairy-tales, who travelled to learn what s.h.i.+vering meant.
The Wine-chevalier of course kept himself fresh in his toilet and his anecdotes, and in everything, externally and internally, that the prevailing fas.h.i.+on required, from year to year, living also for several months in Paris. He did not, like his father, speak of his friend this and the other amba.s.sador, minister so and so, and prince so and so, but he let it be known that he lived in the most inseparable intimacy with the most famous members of the Jockey Club.
The Wine-chevalier always experienced, besides, some degree of pleasure in devoting himself to paying courteous compliments to the virtuous Frau Bella, but she looked at him to-day, as if he were not present, and as if she heard not a word of what he was saying. The count also was so abstracted and absent-minded; that he speedily lost all the games, often gazing at him with wonderment, sitting there in the same chair that Eric had occupied.
A new ally to the Wine-chevalier made his appearance, but this was also of no avail to-day. A corpulent man dressed with fastidious nicety likewise called at Wolfsgarten; he was formerly a famous ba.s.so, who had married a rich widow from the neighboring commercial city, and settled down here in this beautiful region. At other times he was well received by Bella, for he sang very agreeably with the remnant of his voice.
When he perceived that his greeting to-day was not so cordial as usual, he said that he only came to make a pa.s.sing call, and Bella was vexed so much the more; she did not like to have Wolfsgarten regarded as a place for casual visits. When both had departed, Bella and Clodwig breathed again freely.
Clodwig went into the cabinet, where he kept the collection of objects that had been excavated from the ground; but all here seemed changed.
The urns, the vases, the lachrymatories, swords, necklaces, and many figures in relievo looked so very desolate, and a warrior, only half of whose face in burnt clay could be dug out, wore to-day such a hideous visage.
All looked so forlorn, as if these thousand things, brought out of the darkness under ground into the light, were making their moan to Clodwig: What then are we here for? There is something wanting to us,--a piece to each. And if Clodwig had been able to exhibit his soul with all its emotions, he, the well-regulated, would have had nothing but potsherds to show. Something was wanting to him since Eric rode off.
With closed lips, and restless eyes that seemed to be in search of something, he went all day long through house and park. Bella succeeded at last, in bringing him to say that the ideal of his whole life might have been realized, but that he had strangely wanted the requisite energy. He complained, for the first time, of feeling the hesitancy and timidity of age. He made a pause, hoping that Bella would complete the suggestion, but she kept silence; and in a very roundabout way, he explained that people indulged in many luxuries, and yet not the right ones. Finally he came directly to the point, that he considered it wrong to have permitted Eric to depart, he had long wished for such a man, and he might venture perhaps to say, that he would also contribute to the advancement of the young scholar with the Apollo-form.
The upper lip of Bella quivered, and she said,--
"The captain"--she was going to say, the captain in Goethe's "Elective Affinities," and stumbling over this thought, she continued:--"The captain,--I mean, the doctor,--would certainly consider himself very fortunate. But--we ought surely to speak openly. I have the happiness of a firmly established good name, and we do not ask what people say--"
"Speak out direct," Clodwig said encouragingly, and Bella continued after she had pa.s.sed a fine pocket-handkerchief over her face:--
"Do you not think that this young man--would often--how shall I express it?"
"Put us into an awkward position?" suggested Clodwig. Bella nodded, but Clodwig had already thought that matter over, and he combated the notion, dwelling upon the consideration of how great an enslavement it would be of the good, if they must omit doing what was n.o.ble because the bad committed the basest things under the cloak of deceit.
Bella now advised her husband to send a messenger to Eric immediately, so that he might not enter into any engagement. Clodwig pressed her hand, and went into his study, with an elastic step not often seen in him. He began to write there, but soon came to Bella and said that he could not write, and the simplest thing to do was to order the carriage and drive over at once to Villa Eden.
Clodwig avoided, as a general thing, all immediate connection with Sonnenkamp and his family, so far as it was possible with the intimacy of his brother-in-law there, but to-day nothing was said of this, and they drove off in good spirits.
Frau Bella often drew her veil down over her face and raised it again; she was very uneasy, for she thought over a great many things, and when she noticed the quick beating of her heart, she grasped hastily her husband's hand, saying,--
"Ah! you are so good, so angel-pure! I could never have believed that I should be continually discovering new excellencies in you."
With the utterance of these words aloud, she silenced in some degree the voice speaking within her what she was not willing to acknowledge to herself,--yes, she consciously disowned it. It is an incomprehensible whim, a freak--not of pa.s.sion, no--how could Bella confess that of herself? It was the freak of an evil spirit! This young man must possess some incomprehensible, bewildering, magic influence!
Bella hated him, for he had disturbed the quiet of her husband, and now was attempting to do the same with her. He should atone for that! She straightened herself back; she was resolved to interrupt the childish, enthusiastic plan of her husband by the very means of her going with him, and if Eric did not perceive her opposition, she would acknowledge it in so many words, and thereby induce him to decline.
Entertaining this thought, she looked up again in a cheerful mood, and Clodwig, perceiving it, settled upon a room for Eric, and laid out the new household arrangement.
A new member of the family too was to be added for Bella, as she was to invite Eric's mother to visit them. It was fortunate that Bella had already known her for some time before, and held her in high esteem.
Clodwig informed her that the Dournays also were really of the n.o.bility, and their appellation was Dournay de Saint Mort, and that they had dropped the t.i.tle only at the expulsion of the Huguenots from France, and he would see to it, in case Eric made a suitable marriage, that his t.i.tle was renewed,--yes, he could probably do more in his behalf.