Hammer and Anvil Part 25

As if heaven itself was disposed to be good to the bad boy who, whatever his errors, had erred but through youthful folly, and perhaps, all things considered, was not after all so utterly bad, it sent him two or three of the loveliest autumn days for his adventurous flight.

The recent rains had cleared the air to a crystalline transparency, so that the remotest distance seemed brought near at hand. A flood of bright but indescribably soft sunlight streamed from the cloudless sky, and penetrated into the inmost recesses of the forest, where from the huge old trees the yellow leaves silently floated down to the others, with which the ground was already strewn. Not a sound was audible in the sunny wilderness except the melancholy chirp of a yellow-hammer in the thicket, or the hoa.r.s.e cawing of a crow who regarded with disfavor the gun which I was carrying, or the faint cry of cranes that, careless of what was going on below, were winging high in air their proud flight to southern lands.

Then again I lay in the heart of the forest upon some hillock, perhaps a "giant's barrow," as they were traditionally called, and watched sly Reynard steal out of his Castle Malepartus among the great stones, to bask in the morning sun, while a few paces farther off his half-grown cubs chased each other and rolled over and over in merry romp; or I marked in the evening light a herd of deer crossing a clearing, the stag in front with head proudly held aloft, and only lowered occasionally to pick a peculiarly tempting tuft of herbage, while the does came peacefully grazing after.

Again I stood on the heights, close to the verge of the steep chalk-cliff, and looked longingly out over the blue sea, where on the farthest horizon a little cloud marked the spot where the steamer which I had been watching for an hour had disappeared, while in the middle distance glittered the sails of a pair of fis.h.i.+ng-boats. The speck of cloud vanished, the white sails dwindled away, and with a sigh I turned back into the forest, scarcely hoping now that I should succeed in getting off the island.

Twice already I had made the attempt. Once at a small fis.h.i.+ng village that lay at the head of a narrow cove in a recess of the sh.o.r.e, and was the picture of isolation and loneliness. But the men were all out fis.h.i.+ng; only a very old man and a couple of half-grown youths were at home with the women and children. If the catch was a good one, it might be two days before the men came back; and it was not likely then that any one would take me so far. So said the old man, when I asked; while a pair of red-haired children stood by staring at me with open mouths, and an old woman came up and confirmed the man's statement, while the sun sank below the horizon, and a cool breeze blew down the cove towards the darkened sea.

It was the second day of my wandering. The first night I had pa.s.sed in a sheep-fold: I thought I might venture for once to sleep under a roof; and the good wife to whom I made the proposal willingly gave up to me the chamber of her son, who had sailed away three years before, and not been heard of since. I might, very likely, have spent days in this retired nook without being discovered; but the necessity of my getting off the island was too pressing, and early on the next morning I set out to try my fortune elsewhere.

My next trial was made in a large village. There were boats enough and men enough there, but no one would take me; not even though I offered ten dollars, half the money I had, for the short pa.s.sage to the Mecklenburg coast, where I might consider myself tolerably safe. I do not know whether, as was possible, they knew who I was, or merely saw something suspicious in the wild-looking young man with a gun on his shoulder who asked a pa.s.sage to another country; or whether, as I seemed in such extreme haste, and appeared to have money, they merely wished, by delay and apparent reluctance, to extort a higher fare. But after an hour had been spent in parleying, and Karl Bollmann said he was willing to take me, if Johann Peters would lend his boat; and Peters, for his part, was ready to go, but only in Bollmann's boat; and Christian Rickmann, who was standing by with his hands in his pockets, said he would take me with his boys, but not for less than thirty dollars; and all then held a whispering consultation together, during which the whole population, women and children included, gathered around--I thought it prudent not to await the result, but turned abruptly away, and strode off towards the dunes. A half-dozen followed me, but I showed them my gun, upon which they kept back.

The same day I had another proof that the pursuit for me was still kept up, which indeed I had never doubted. It was towards evening, when reconnoitring from the edge of the woods a piece of open country that I had to cross, I caught sight of two mounted patrols on the road, talking with a shepherd who had driven his flock upon the strip of heath between the road and the woods. I observed that they several times pointed to the forest, but the shepherd's answers seemed satisfactory, for they presently rode away in the opposite direction, and disappeared beyond some rising ground. When I thought them far enough, I came out of my concealment and joined the shepherd, who was knitting a long black stocking, and whose simple face gave a sufficient guaranty of the security of the step. He told me, in answer to my inquiries, that the patrol were on the track of a man who had committed a murder. He was a tall young man, they had said, and a desperate villain; but they would have him yet.

The lively imagination of the stocking-knitter had probably had sufficient time in the interval between the departure of the patrol and my appearance, to paint the portrait of the fugitive from justice in the most frightful colors. At all events he did not recognize me, but took me at once for what I gave myself out to be: a huntsman, who was stopping on a visit at one of the neighboring estates, and not knowing the country well, had lost his way. He gave me minute directions how to find my way, thanked me for the coin I put in his hand, and dropped his knitting in astonishment as he saw me, instead of following his directions, strike across the heath into the forest.

The vicinity of the patrol had startled me, in fact, and I had determined to pa.s.s this night in the woods. It was a bad night. Warm as it had been in the day, it grew cold at nightfall, and the cold steadily increased as the night advanced. In vain did I bury myself a foot deep in the dry leaves, or try by brisk walking backwards and forwards to gain a little warmth. The dense mist that arose from the earth soaked my clothes through, and chilled me to the marrow. The long hours of the autumn night crept on with dreadful slowness; it seemed as if it would never be day. And in addition to these physical and almost intolerable sufferings of cold, hunger, and fatigue, the recollection of what I had recently gone through presented itself to me in ever more frightful pictures the longer the night lasted, and the more hotly the fever burned in my veins. While, half dead with fatigue, I staggered backwards and forwards in a clear s.p.a.ce between the trees, I saw myself again on the moor at Herr von Zehren's side, with Jock Swart lying dead at our feet, while the flames of the burning castle wrapped us in an awful glare, so fearfully bright that it seemed the whole forest was burning around me, while yet my limbs s.h.i.+vered and my teeth chattered with cold. Then Herr von Zehren sat before me as I had last seen him sitting, with the rising sun s.h.i.+ning in his glazed eyes; and then again it was not Herr von Zehren, but my father, or Professor Lederer, or some other, but all dead, with gla.s.sy eyes open to the sun. Then again I became conscious of my real situation, that it was dark night around me, that I was excessively cold, that I had sharp fever, and that despite the risk of discovery I must resolve to kindle a real fire instead of the frightful visionary one which I still saw in my feverish hallucination.

I had provided myself against this necessity with a large piece of touchwood which I had broken out of a hollow tree and placed in my game-bag. By its aid I succeeded after a while in kindling a pile of half-dry wood, and I cannot describe the delicious sensation that thrilled through me as at last a bright flame sprang up. The cheery light drove back the fever-phantoms into the darkness from which they had sprung; the luxurious warmth expelled from my veins the icy cold. I dragged together great quant.i.ties of fuel; I could not sufficiently luxuriate in the sight of the curling smoke, the leaping flames, and the glittering sparks. Then I seated myself at my forest-hearth, and resolved in my mind what I should do to escape a situation which I clearly saw I could not long endure. At last I hit upon a plan. I must make the trial to get away at some one of the points from which there was a regular communication with the main-land, and which I had, on good grounds, hitherto avoided; and the attempt must be made in disguise, as otherwise I should be recognized instantly. The difficulty was, how to obtain a suitable disguise; and here a happy thought struck me. I had noticed in the chamber in which I had slept the previous night, a complete sailor's dress hanging against the wall; very likely the kind old woman would sell it to me. If thus disguised I could get off the island, I was pretty confident that by a night-march I could reach the Mecklenburg frontier; and once there, I would let chance decide what was next to be done.

At early dawn I began to put this plan into execution; and although I had a walk of eight or ten miles to the lonely fis.h.i.+ng village, I reached it just after sunrise. The good old dame would not hear of any sale; I needed the things, and that was enough; perhaps some one in some strange land might do as much for her son, if he was alive--and a tear rolled down her aged wrinkled cheeks. My clothes and my gun--for I had left my pistol at Hans's--she would keep for me; I should have them any time that I came for them. I do not I know for what the kind old creature took me; but no doubt she thought that I was in distress; and she helped me thus because I said that this was the only way to help me. The worthy soul! Later in my life it was in my power in some measure to repay her kindness, if indeed a kind deed can ever be repaid.

So I set out at once upon my way, which took me, through many perils, directly across the island to a point where I determined to wait until evening before entering Fahrdorf, which I could reach in an hour.

Relying upon my sailor's dress, which fitted me perfectly, and, as I thought, completely disguised me, I had chosen the ferry which led most directly to Uselin. In this way, it was true, I should have to go through my native town; but it was probable that just there I should be least looked for; and at that time, I confess it, it took but a little to rouse in me the old daring spirit which had already played me so many an unlucky trick. With a grim satisfaction I imagined myself pacing at night through the silent streets, and even considered whether I should not write on the door of the _Rathhaus_[4] the old saying of the Nuremburgers, and sign my name to it.

At nightfall I entered Fahrdorf. I had missed the boat; but the next one, which was the last, sailed in half an hour. As I had seen through the window of the tavern that the large tap-room was almost empty, and as I must of necessity strengthen myself for my night-journey, I entered it, took my seat at the farthest table with my face to the wall, and ordered some supper of the bar-maid.

The girl went to get it for me. On the table, beside the candle which she had lighted, lay a beer-stained copy of the Uselin Weekly News of the previous day--another cleaner copy is now lying beside the page on which I am writing. I took it up, and my first glance fell upon the following announcement:

NOTICE.

Frederick William George Hartwig, former pupil of and fugitive from the Gymnasium in Uselin, strongly suspected of smuggling, of violent resistance to officers of the Government, and of murder, has still, notwithstanding every exertion on the part of the authorities, evaded arrest. As it greatly concerns the public welfare that this apparently most dangerous person should be brought to justice, he is hereby summoned voluntarily to surrender himself; and all persons who may have any knowledge of the place of concealment of the aforesaid Hartwig, are called upon to give notice thereof without delay to the undersigned. We also urgently and respectfully request the various authorities, both here and abroad, to keep a strict watch for the aforesaid Hartwig, (description at foot), to arrest him promptly, should he be discovered, and forward him to us at our expense, under the a.s.surance of the readiest reciprocity on our part in a similar case. (Signed) Heckepfennig.

District of * * *

Uselin, November 2, 1833.

I will not copy the description that followed. The reader could learn from it nothing except that at that time I rejoiced in dark-blond, curly hair ("sorrel-top" the boys used to call me when they wanted to tease me), stood six feet without my shoes, and, as a well-finished specimen of humanity, had no special marks, or at least none in the eyes of Herr Justizrath Heckepfennig.

But in truth, at this moment so critical for me, I scarcely noticed the description of my person; the Notice occupied all my thoughts. When, the evening before, the shepherd said that the man whom the patrol were after was charged with murder, I did not believe it for a moment. He was such a simple-looking fellow, that I thought the patrol had been telling him a frightful story to scare him, or to enhance their own importance. But here it stood in large clear letters in the _Weekly News_, which, as but few other papers had ever fallen into my hands, was always to my uncritical youthful mind invested with a certain magisterial authority--I might almost say, bore the stamp of infallibility. "Suspected of murder!" Was it possible? Was I then looked upon as the murderer of Jock Swart? I, who had thanked G.o.d when I saw the man at whom I had fired, limping briskly off? I, whose only consolation in these last days of suffering, was that at the worst no man's death weighed upon my conscience? And here it was proclaimed to all the world that I was a murderer!

The bar-maid brought the refreshment I had ordered, and I think advised me to waste no time, as the ferry-boat would soon start. I scarcely heard what she said, but left my supper untouched, and sat staring at the paper, which I had hastily turned over as the girl entered, as if my printed name might betray me. But on the other side it again appeared in a paragraph headed _City Items_. The paragraph ran thus:

"Yesterday evening, in some unaccountable way, a rumor got afloat that George Hartwig, whose name is now in everybody's mouth, had taken refuge in the house of his father, Customs-Accountant Hartwig, and was there in hiding. An immense crowd, of probably more than a hundred persons, a.s.sembled in consequence in the Water street, and tumultuously demanded that the young criminal should be given up to them. In vain did the unhappy father, standing on his threshold, protest that his son was not in his house, and that he was not the man to obstruct the course of justice. Even the vigorous exertions of those dauntless public servants, officers Luz and Bolljahn, were ineffectual; only the eloquent appeals of our respected mayor, who had hurried to the spot at the first news of the disturbance, succeeded at last in dispersing the excited crowd. We cannot refrain from earnestly warning our fellow-citizens of the folly and lawlessness of such proceedings, although we willingly admit that the affair in question, which unhappily seems to a.s.sume even more serious proportions, is of a nature to strongly excite the minds of all. But we appeal to the men of intelligence--that is to say, to the great majority of our fellow-citizens--and ask them if we cannot repose the fullest confidence in the authorities? Should we not be convinced that the public welfare is in better keeping in their hands than in those of a thoughtless, ungoverned mob? And in reference to the occurrence of yesterday, we earnestly appeal to the good feeling of all well-meaning persons. Let them remember that the father of the unhappy George Hartwig is one of our most respectable citizens. He would, as he declared, and as we for our part firmly believe, be the last to obstruct the course of justice. Fellow-citizens, let us respect this a.s.surance; let us respect the man who gave it. Let us be just, fellow-citizens, but not cruel. And before all, let us take care that the reputation of good-order and of a law-abiding spirit which our good old town has so long enjoyed, be not lost through our fault."

The well-known signal summoning the pa.s.sengers on board, now sounded from the wharf, and at the same moment the girl came in again and told me I must make haste.

"But you have not eaten a bit!" she exclaimed, and stared at me with surprise and alarm. I suppose that I looked very pale and agitated. I muttered some reply, laid a _thaler_ on the table, and hurried from the house.

Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, the boat was crowded with pa.s.sengers. On the forward-deck were standing two saddled horses, which could only belong to the mounted patrol; and I soon discovered their riders, who were the same that I had seen talking to the shepherd, as I gathered from their conversation with a couple of peasants. They were complaining bitterly of being recalled, for they were sure, they said, that they would have caught the villain, who must be somewhere hidden on the island, though six more besides themselves, two on horseback and four on foot, had searched it through in every direction. Now the others would gain the reward, while they were sent for to keep order in the town, which was no affair of theirs; there were Bolljahn and Luz to attend to that duty.

I sat quite near them, and could hear every word they said; and I thought what delight it would give the brave fellows if I were suddenly to stand up and say, "here's the villain." But I could not afford them that pleasure; what I had resolved to do, must be done voluntarily. So I kept quiet, and it never occurred to the wise servants of the law that the young sailor who was listening to them with such apparent interest was the man they were looking for.

The wind was fair, and the pa.s.sage quick; in half an hour the boat reached her wharf. The horses pawed, the patrolmen swore, the pa.s.sengers crowded out of the boat, and went up the wharf with their luggage. At the upper end of the wharf, just by the gate, stood fat Peter Hinrich, the landlord of the sailor's tavern, and asked me if I would not lodge in his house. I said I had a lodging engaged elsewhere.

So I pa.s.sed through the ruinous old port-gate, which was never shut, and entered the Water street. When I arrived at the small house, I paused for a moment. All in the house was dark and silent, and it was dark and silent in the street; but only two days before there had been commotion enough here, and there upon the threshold my father had stood and said that he was not the man to obstruct the course of justice. He should not incur the suspicion of having concealed his son in his house; he should see that his son had still some regard for his father's good name, and that he had the courage to face the consequences of what he had done.

The exhortations of the _Weekly News_ had not been in vain. The little town seemed as if life had departed; the energetic Luz and Bolljahn, with the best will in the world, could have found no field for their activity. My steps resounded along the empty alleys, which struck me as being singularly narrow and crooked. Here and there was light in the windows; but folks went early to bed in Uselin, and the authorities could therefore extinguish the street lamps at a very early hour, especially when, as now, the new moon over St. Nicholas's church looked sadly down through driving clouds upon the empty market-place.

I stood in the market-place before the house of Herr Justizrath Heckepfennig. It was one of the stateliest mansions in the town. How often had I pa.s.sed it when I came out of school at mid-day, and cast a glance of respectful longing at the left-hand corner-window in the second story where Emilie used to sit behind a vase of gold-fish, and always happened, just as I pa.s.sed by--a little dim window-mirror gave her faithful notice--to have her attention attracted by something in the market. Now I again looked up at the window, but with very different feelings. There was a light in the room, which was the usual sitting-room of the family. The justizrath used to smoke his evening pipe there. I had a presentiment that the visit that he would presently receive would cause it to go out.

The good people of Uselin did not usually fasten their street-doors until they went to bed; but whether it was that the recent disturbances so energetically and successfully contended with by the officers Luz and Bolljahn had rendered greater precautions advisable; or whether the justizrath, in his double capacity of wealthy man and officer of the law, insisted upon a stricter rule in this matter--in any case his door was fastened, and it was some time before my repeated ringing was answered by a female voice that called through the keyhole in rather a quavering tone to know who was there. My reply, "one who wishes urgently to speak with the Herr Justizrath," did not seem by any means entirely to satisfy the portress, who could be none other than the pretty housemaid Jette. A whispering followed, from which I inferred that Jette had brought the cook with her; then a giggling, and finally the answer that she would tell her master.

I was patrolling up and down before the house in my impatience, when a window opened in the sitting-room above, and the Herr Justizrath in person, putting out his head a very little way indeed, repeated the question of the housemaid, and received the same answer.

"What is your business?" asked the cautious man.

"I come from the island," I replied at a venture.

"Aha!" cried he, and closed the window.

For some days the justizrath had done nothing but give audience to people who professed to be able to throw some light upon the great mystery. A sailor or fisherman just from the island, and who urgently desired to speak with him at ten o'clock at night, could come with but one object: to make some important communication which might bring some illumination into the obscurity of this mysterious affair. I for my part believed that the justizrath had recognized me by my voice, and that his exclamation meant: "So! here you are at last!" I was soon to learn how greatly I was mistaken.

The door was opened, and I hastily entered. Scarcely had the light of the candle which Jette was holding up in her hand, fallen upon my face, when she gave a loud scream, dropped candlestick and all, and ran off as hard as she could, while the cook followed her example, at least so far as screaming and running went. The cook, who was an elderly female, ought to have had more sense; but still she only knew me by sight, and for a long time had heard nothing but horrors about me, so I cannot blame her. But the conduct of the pretty Jette admitted of no defence.

I had always been very friendly to her, partly on her mistress's account, and partly on her own; and she had always freely acknowledged it, coquettishly smiling whenever I met her, saluting me with her deepest curtsey whenever I entered the house, and now--but I had now something else to think of than the ingrat.i.tude of a housemaid. I pa.s.sed through the dark hall, ascended the stair I knew so well, and knocked at the door of the justizrath's study, which adjoined the sitting-room, and to which he had doubtless betaken himself to receive his late visitor.

"Come in!" said the justizrath, and I entered.

There he stood, just as I expected to find him, a tall, broad-shouldered figure, wrapped in his loose flowered dressing-gown, his long pipe in his hand, his low, narrow forehead wrinkled into deep folds as he fixed his little stupid eyes with a look of curiosity upon me at my entrance.

"Well, my friend, and what do you bring?" he asked.

"Myself," I answered, in a low but resolute voice, stepping up nearer to him.

My presentiment that he would let his pipe go out was fulfilled by his simply letting it drop upon the floor; and without saying a word he caught up the skirts of his flowered dressing-gown in both hands, and fled into the family-room.

There I stood by the broken pipe, and trampled out the glowing ashes which had fallen upon the little carpet by the writing-table. While engaged in this certainly not criminal occupation, I was startled by a cry for the watch from the adjacent window that opened on the market-place. It was the voice of the justizrath, but it had a very hoa.r.s.e and lamentable sound, as if some one had him by the throat. I stepped to the door of the sitting-room and knocked.

"Herr Justizrath!"

No answer.

"Frau Justizrath!"

All silent.

"Fraulein Emilie!"