The Crushed Flower and Other Stories Part 15

"Wild Gart is angry again at his sailor. Have you noticed it?"

"The sailor is displeased. Look, how wan his face is."

"Yes, he looks like the evil one when he is compelled to listen to a psalm. But I don't like Wild Gart, either. No. Where did he come from?"

They resume their whispers. Haggart complains softly:

"Why have you the same name, Mariet, for everybody? It should not be so in a truthful land."

Mariet speaks with restrained force, pressing both hands to her breast:

"I love you so dearly, Gart; when you go out to sea, I set my teeth together and do not open them until you come back. When you are away, I eat nothing and drink nothing; when you are away, I am silent, and the women laugh: 'Mute Mariet!' But I would be insane if I spoke when I am alone."

HAGGART--Here you are again compelling me to smile. You must not, Mariet--I am forever smiling.

MARIET--I love you so dearly, Gart. Every hour of the day and the night I am thinking only of what I could still give to you, Gart. Have I not given you everything? But that is so little--everything! There is but one thing I want to do--to keep on giving to you, giving! When the sun sets, I present you the sunset; when the sun rises, I present you the sunrise--take it, Gart! And are not all the storms yours? Ah, Haggart, how I love you!

HAGGART--I am going to toss little Noni so high to-day that I will toss him up to the clouds. Do you want me to do it? Let us laugh, dear little sister Mariet. You are exactly like myself. When you stand that way, it seems to me that I am standing there--I have to rub my eyes. Let us laugh! Some day I may suddenly mix things up--I may wake up and say to you: "Good morning, Haggart!"

MARIET--Good morning, Mariet.

HAGGART--I will call you Haggart. Isn't that a good idea?

MARIET--And I will call you Mariet.

HAGGART--Yes--no. You had better call me Haggart, too.

"You don't want me to call you Mariet?" asks Mariet sadly.

The abbot and old Dan appear. The abbot says in a loud, deep voice:

"Here I am. Here I am bringing you a prayer, children. I have just composed it; it has even made me feel hot. Dan, why doesn't the boy ring the bell? Oh, yes, he is ringing. The fool--he isn't swinging the right rope, but that doesn't matter; that's good enough, too. Isn't it, Mariet?"

Two thin but merry bells are ringing.

Mariet is silent and Haggart answers for her:

"That's good enough. But what are the bells saying, abbot?"

The fishermen who have gathered about them are already prepared to laugh--the same undying jest is always repeated.

"Will you tell no one about it?" says the abbot, in a deep voice, slily winking his eye. "Pope's a rogue! Pope's a rogue!"

The fishermen laugh merrily.

"This man," roars the abbot, pointing at Haggart, "is my favourite man!

He has given me a grandson, and I wrote the Pope about it in Latin. But that wasn't so hard; isn't that true, Mariet? But he knows how to look at the water. He foretells a storm as if he himself caused it. Gart, do you produce the storm yourself? Where does the wind come from? You are the wind yourself."

All laugh approval. An old fisherman says:

"That's true, father. Ever since he has been here, we have never been caught in a storm."

"Of course it is true, if I say it. 'Pope's a rogue! Pope's a rogue!'"

Old Dan walks over to Khorre and says something to him. Khorre nods his head negatively. The abbot, singing "Pope's a rogue," goes around the crowd, throws out brief remarks, and claps some people on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

"h.e.l.lo, Katerina, you are getting stout. Oho! Are you all ready? And Thomas is missing again--this is the second time he has stayed away from prayer. Anna, you are rather sad--that isn't good. One must live merrily, one must live merrily! I think that it is jolly even in h.e.l.l, but in a different way. It is two years since you have stopped growing, Philipp. That isn't good."

Philipp answers gruffly:

"Gra.s.s also stops growing if a stone falls upon it."

"What is still worse than that--worms begin to breed under the rock."

Mariet says softly, sadly and entreatingly:

"Don't you want me to call you Mariet?"

Haggart answers obstinately and sternly:

"I don't. If my name will be Mariet, I shall never kill that man. He disturbs my life. Make me a present of his life, Mariet. He kissed you."

"How can I present you that which is not mine? His life belongs to G.o.d and to himself."

"That is not true. He kissed you; do I not see the burns upon your lips?

Let me kill him, and you will feel as joyful and care-free as a seagull.

Say 'yes,' Mariet."

"No; you shouldn't do it, Gart. It will be painful to you."

Haggart looks at her and speaks with deep irony.

"Is that it? Well, then, it is not true that you give me anything. You don't know how to give, woman."

"I am your wife."

"No! A man has no wife when another man, and not his wife, grinds his knife. My knife is dull, Mariet!"

Mariet looks at him with horror and sorrow.

"What did you say, Haggart? Wake up; it is a terrible dream, Haggart! It is I--look at me. Open your eyes wider, wider, until you see me well. Do you see me, Gart?"

Haggart slowly rubs his brow.

"I don't know. It is true I love you, Mariet. But how incomprehensible your land is--in your land a man sees dreams even when he is not asleep.

Perhaps I am smiling already. Look, Mariet."

The abbot stops in front of Khorre.