Jena or Sedan? Part 9

Where in all the world could a nation be found richer in honour and in victories?

During the next few days Reimers had to make calls on the ladies of the regiment.

It was wearisome work, answering the same questions over and over again; and once more he had proof of the fact that against certain conditions time seems powerless. Some of the young married women had during his absence become mothers; but most of the ladies of the regiment presided without change over the solid domestic comfort of their house-holds. The main thing noticeable was that they had sacrificed themselves with greater or less success to fas.h.i.+on, which was just now in favour of slender figures.

The course of their conversation was almost literally the same as of yore, and in each case the curiosity shown was of exactly the same degree, except that Captain Heuschkel's wife, who was president of the Red Cross Society, inquired as to the care of the wounded in South Africa; while the lady who presided over the Home Missions wished to know if the Boers were really as pious as they were represented to be.

This monotony was, to a certain extent, the result of natural selection. Most of the officers had chosen their wives very carefully, and this had brought about a fine similarity in their views, a similarity which even found expression in the rather unattractive arrangement of their dwellings, in which the upholsterer's hand was but too evident.

Only two ladies, the wives of Captains von Stuckardt and von Gropphusen, differed from this type.

Frau von Stuckardt was unjustly considered haughty. She was merely unfortunate in being unable to adapt herself to the mental atmosphere of the other ladies. She had been placed for a couple of years in an inst.i.tution for the daughters of the n.o.bility, and was just preparing to enter a convent when Stuckardt, who was a distant cousin of hers, proposed to her. In her heart she regretted the worldly emotion to which she had then yielded; she believed that, by her marriage, she had defrauded the Church, and felt her conscience constantly oppressed by this grave offence. The interests of the other officers' wives puzzled her, doubly separated from them as she was by creed and by education; and when, under social compulsion, she gave a coffee-party, she sat among her guests like a being from a strange world, a pale and slender figure, always dressed in dark colours and wearing a cap of old lace upon her smoothly parted black hair; a striking contrast to the other fair, rosy, lively women in their gay gowns.

Frau von Gropphusen's parties were much more amusing. You could not be quite sure that she was not making fun of you; but you were certain to carry away on each occasion a supply of gossip which would last for weeks.

Externally, Gropphusen and his wife were exceedingly well matched. He was of medium height, with slender limbs and a pale, finely chiselled face, vivacious eyes, wavy dark hair, and a small black beard. She was one of those dainty blondes who remind one of iced champagne, with a marvellously graceful figure, a droll little nose, and steel blue eyes under dark eyebrows.

When first married they were madly in love with each other; but when the fire burnt out, Gropphusen went back to his old habits.

Truth to tell, he was a rake, who, even after marriage, thought nothing of spending dissipated nights week after week in the capital, returning by the early morning train. He seemed to have cast-iron nerves; for even the envious had to admit that his official work did not suffer. He had a clever head, and was an artist into the bargain, an excellent painter of horses; experts advised him to hang up his sword on a nail and devote himself to the brush. But he had not yet made up his mind to that.

Irregular in all other departments of life, he was regular only in his excesses. He was very rich, so that he could give the rein to almost all his whims. Indeed, reports of a rather fantastic kind, somewhat recalling Duke Charles of Brunswick, were current about him, the most extravagant being of a ballet he had had performed for him by fifty naked dancing girls. There was a certain amount of exaggeration about this, perhaps. In any case he troubled himself no longer about his young wife.

Hannah Gropphusen indemnified herself in her own way by coquetry and flirtations, and she was soon gossipped about as much as her husband.

But those that whispered and chattered about her felt their consciences p.r.i.c.k them when they carried their backbiting further; the young wife could never be accused of anything more serious.

It was noteworthy that Reimers had always felt more attracted by these exceptions among the officers' ladies than by the typical representatives of that cla.s.s. He did not know why exactly, but he thought he saw a certain similarity between the position of these ladies and his own; these two and he were different from the average.

Unlike his comrades, he enjoyed visiting Frau von Stuckardt. She never talked plat.i.tudes, she would rather remain silent, and she was a little given to proselytising. Reimers liked to hear her subdued voice extolling the mysteries of the Catholic faith; he was proof against her endeavours, but a beneficent calm emanated from this unworldly woman, and he could feel with her that the spiritual renunciations of Catholicism offered a quiet resting-place to the world-weary.

The Gropphusen interested him. She was considered superficial and frivolous, but he did not think her really so. There was too much system in her frivolity and superficiality.

He had purposely left these two visits to the last. But Frau von Stuckardt was away from home; and when he handed his card to Frau von Gropphusen's servant he was told that the lady was unwell, but the man would ask if she could receive.

Reimers felt rather vexed, and was just turning away when the gunner returned and asked him to come in.

He conducted the lieutenant along the corridor. "My mistress is in her boudoir," he said.

Reimers was shown into a small room, the only window of which was darkened. Frau von Gropphusen half raised herself from a broad couch.

She wore a loose tea-gown of soft silk, and had a light covering spread over her knees.

"Welcome back, Herr Reimers!" she said, and stretched out her hand to him.

Reimers bent over it respectfully, and kissed the tips of her fingers.

Then his young hostess let herself fell back again upon the couch and drew her hand across her forehead.

"I am not very well," she resumed; "but I could not refuse to see you."

"No, no, you must stay," she went on; for Reimers looked as if he meant to take leave at once. "There, sit down. Just wait a minute; I feel better already."

Reimers took a seat and glanced round the room. The couch almost filled it, the only other furniture being a dainty little writing-table in the window and a couple of chairs. Above the couch hung the only picture, a fine print of Gainsborough's _Blue Boy_.

In the meanwhile, Frau von Gropphusen had recovered herself. Her pretty pale face was lighted up by a somewhat melancholy smile, and she began softly: "No, really, I couldn't let you go!"

She raised herself again, drew her knees up beneath their covering, and clasped her arms round them. It was done quite simply and naturally, without any touch of coquetry. And then she stretched out her hand again to Reimers and said: "You, the champion of the Boers!" Then, supporting her chin on her knees, she continued: "But now you must tell me exactly why you fought for them?"

As Reimers was preparing to answer, she interrupted him: "No, I will question you. Wait a minute. Was it from love of adventure?"

"No. At least, that is not the right way of putting it. I wanted for once to see something of the serious side of my profession. But even that was not the chief reason."

"Well, then, was it in search of fame?"

Involuntarily Reimers deviated from his usual rule of answering evasively, and replied: "No; that was not it either. I wanted nothing for myself personally, or at most only to prove my fitness for my profession."

"But neither was that your princ.i.p.al motive?"

"Oh, no."

"Perhaps it was indignation against the strong who were oppressing the weak?"

Reimers was silent for a moment. Then he said: "Perhaps. But other things contributed; above all, boredom. And--I wanted a decision as to whether I was to live or not. I could not remain an invalid for ever."

"But still your chief, your final motive was the love of justice, wasn't it?"

"Well, yes."

Hannah Gropphusen sank back again languidly. For the third time she stretched out her hand to Reimers: "It rejoices me to find that such people still exist, and to know one of them!"

Reimers had held her hand for a moment in his own. It was a small hand, almost too thin, with slender fingers. As he looked at it, he was reminded of the gentle hands of his mother. He respectfully touched the beautiful fingers with his lips and rose. Frau von Gropphusen made no effort to detain him.

"It is perhaps better for me," she said wearily; and as he reached the door, she added: "But it has given me great pleasure to see you again,"

and she dismissed him with a friendly nod.

Reimers stood for a moment before the front door, thoughtfully b.u.t.toning his gloves.

It was certainly odd; the very woman whom every one else seemed to distrust appeared to him more worthy of esteem than any of the others.

He realised this only after the visit just paid. To her alone had he answered frankly, and although they had hardly exchanged a dozen words, he felt they under-stood each other perfectly. He could not avoid the thought that their souls were akin. Each of them yearned after what was great and beautiful in life. This woman, indeed, deserved pity, for she had suffered s.h.i.+pwreck in the greatest and n.o.blest end for which woman is created--in her love; but he, thank G.o.d, was a man; and his ideal, Germany, still stood out clear and definite, dwarfing mere personal aims.

In that dim room a sinister thought had seized upon him, oppressing and paralysing him; a vague foreboding that his fate would resemble that of this pale woman. But he chased the dark clouds away. His star did not vary in its light as does the s.h.i.+fting and drifting human mind; it was like the sun, steady, unchangeable, inspiring.

CHAPTER IV

"For oh! I had a comrade, And a better could not be."