The Serapion Brethren Volume I Part 15

"'Indeed,' said the old man, lifting his head and looking round him with pride, 'it was a glorious springtide of art when I adorned this hall with all these pictures, in honour of the wise King Arthur and his Round Table. I have always felt convinced that the n.o.ble presence, who came to me once when I was working here, and called me to masters.h.i.+p, which I had not then attained, was King Arthur himself.'

"'My father,' said the lad, 'is an artist whom there are not many like, and you would not regret it if he were to allow you to come and see his works.'

"The old man had taken a few steps through the hall, which was then empty; and he called to the lad to come away. But Traugott boldly asked him to show him his pictures. The old man scanned him long, with keen, penetrating eyes, and finally said, very seriously:

"'You are somewhat presumptuous, truly, in that you would penetrate into the holy of holies before your apprentices.h.i.+p is well begun.

However, be it so! if your eyes are too feeble to see as yet, you may to some extent surmise. Come to me early to-morrow.'

"He explained where he lived, and Traugott got away from his work as soon as possible the next morning, and hastened to the out-of-the-way street where the old man was to be found. The lad, dressed in antique German costume, opened the door, and took him into a s.p.a.cious room, where the old man was sitting on a little stool before a large canvas, all covered with a grey ground-tint.

"'You are come at a fortunate time, sir,' cried the old man, 'for I have just this moment put the finis.h.i.+ng touches to this great picture, upon which I have been engaged for more than a year, and which has cost me no small pains! It is the companion picture to another of the same size, representing "Paradise Lost," which I finished last year, and which you will see here also. This one, as you see, is "Paradise Regained," and I should pity you if you were to try to discover any hidden allegory in it. It is only weaklings and bunglers who paint allegorical pictures. This picture of mine does not suggest; it _is_!

You observe that all these rich groupings of men, animals, flowers and jewels form one harmonious whole, whose loud, glorious music is a pure, heavenly harmony of eternal glorification and ecstasy.'

"Then he began to point out, and give prominence to particular groups.

He drew Traugott's attention to the mysteries of the disposition of the light and shade; to the l.u.s.tre and sparkle of the flowers and gems; to the wonderful forms which, rising out of the bells of lilies, grouped themselves into bands of beautiful maidens and youths; to the bearded men who, with youthful vigour in their looks and motions, seemed to be conversing with curious animals. He spoke louder and louder, more and more vehemently and incoherently.

"'Let thy diamond crown sparkle, thou mighty sage!' he cried, with gleaming eyes riveted on the empty canvas. 'Throw off the Isis-veil which thou hast cast over thy head at the approach of the uninitiate!

Why dost thou wrap that dark mantle so carefully over thy breast? I must see thy heart! It is the philosopher's stone, which discloses all secrets. Art thou not _me_? What meanest thou by confronting me with such audacity? Wilt thou do battle with thy master? Dost thou think that gleaming ruby there, which is thy heart, can grind my breast to dust? Come on, then! come forth! come _here_! I am he that made thee, for I am----'

"Here the old man fell to the ground in a heap, as if struck by a lightning flash. Traugott raised him up; the lad brought an easy-chair, in which they placed the old man, who now seemed to be lying in a quiet sleep.

"'You now know my dear old father's condition, sir,' said the lad softly, in a low voice. 'A cruel fate has stripped all the flowers away from his life; for many years he has been dead to the art, which was his life formerly. He sits for entire days before a canvas, stretched and grounded as you see that one. This he calls "painting," and you have seen the condition of excitement which the description of one of his so-called pictures produces in him. Besides this, he is tormented by another most unfortunate idea, which makes my life a very sad and unhappy one. But this I look upon as a blow of destiny which carries me away in the same sweep with which it has come over him. If you would like to recover a little from the impression of this strange scene, come with me into the next room, where you will see several pictures painted in my father's earlier, fruitful days.'

"How astonished was Traugott to see a number of works which might have been by the most celebrated painters of the Dutch School! They were generally scenes from life; for instance, a company of people coming back from the chase, singing, and playing on instruments, and the like.

They were full of deep meaning; and the heads, particularly, had a wonderful expression of life and vigour. As Traugott was going back to the other room, he noticed a picture close to the door, before which he paused as if spell-bound. It was a portrait of a most beautiful girl, in ancient German dress, but the face was exactly that of the lad, only rounder and with more colour; and the figure seemed to be on a fuller scale. A thrill of nameless delight went through Traugott at the sight of this beautiful lady. In power and vigour the picture was quite equal to a Vand.y.k.e. The dark eyes gazed down on Traugott with a might of love-appeal; the sweet lips, half-parted, seemed to be whispering words of affection.

"'Oh Heaven! oh Heaven!' sighed Traugott out of the depths of his heart, 'where is she to be found?'

"'Come, sir,' said the lad, 'we must go to my father.'

"But Traugott cried, like one beside himself:

"'Ah! that is she, the beloved of my soul, whom I have so long treasured in the depths of my heart, whom I was conscious of, and recognized only in dreams! Where is she? Where is she?'

"The tears streamed from young Berklinger's eyes; he seemed torn with a spasm of pain, scarce able to master his emotion.

"'Come!' he said at last, in a firm, steady voice. 'That is a portrait of my sister, my unfortunate sister, Felizitas. She is lost, gone for ever. You will never see her.'

"Traugott, scarcely conscious what he was doing, let himself be conducted back to the other room. The old man was still asleep, but he started up, with eyes flas.h.i.+ng anger, and cried:

"'What are you doing here, sir?'

"The lad reminded him that he had just been showing Traugott his new picture. He then seemed to remember what had happened. He appeared to get weaker, and said, very faintly:

"'You will pardon an old man's forgetfulness, my dear sir?'

"Your new picture is a most magnificent work,' said Traugott. 'I have never seen anything like it. It must take enormous labour and study to paint like that. I trace in myself a great, irresistible bent towards art, and I beg you most earnestly, my dear old master, to take me as your most diligent and hard-working pupil.'

"The old man grew quite serene and kindly. He embraced Traugott, and promised to be his faithful master and instructor. Traugott went to him every day, and made great progress. His office work was now altogether repugnant to him; he got so careless of it and inattentive to it that Herr Elias Roos made loud complaints, and at last was glad when Traugott, under the pretext of a lingering illness, gave up going to the office at all: for which reason, also, the marriage was put off for an indefinite time, to Christina's no small vexation.

"'That Mr. Traugott of yours,' said a business friend to Roos, 'looks as if he had got something or other on his mind; perhaps some old love debit which he would like to square up before he marries; he's so terribly white, and wild-looking.'

"'Ay, ay,' said Elias; 'and why not, if he likes? I wonder,' he continued after a little, 'if that sly little baggage of a Christina of mine has been up to any tricks? That book-keeper's a spoony sort of fellow; he's always kissing her hand, and squeezing it. Traugott's over head and ears in love with her. Is it a bit of jealousy, I wonder? Gad!

I must watch how the cat jumps a little.'

"But though he watched as carefully as he could, he did _not_ see how she jumped; and he said to the business friend aforesaid:

"'He's a precious rum customer, Master Traugott, I can tell you; but I see nothing for it but to let him "gang his gate" as he likes best. If he hadn't between seven and eight thousand pounds in my house, I should soon let him see what I'd be after. Damme! he never does a stroke of work in the office.'

"Traugott would now have been leading a life of the brightest suns.h.i.+ne in the study of his art, had his heart not been consumed by the fervour of his love for the beautiful Felizitas, whom he often saw in wondrous dreams. Her portrait had disappeared; the old man had taken it away, and Traugott did not dare to ask about it for fear of annoying him. For the rest, Berklinger had got more and more confidence in Traugott as time went on, and he now allowed him to better his narrow housekeeping in many ways, instead of paying for his lessons in money. Traugott learned from young Berklinger that the old man had lost very considerably by the sale of a small collection of pictures, and that the paper which Traugott had negotiated for him was all that had been left of that sum, and was in fact all the money they had remaining. But it was extremely seldom that he was able to have any talk with the lad in private; the old man watched him with extraordinary vigilance, and always instantly interfered when he was beginning to talk freely and unconstrainedly with his friend. This pained Traugott greatly, as from his extraordinary likeness to Felizitas he was devoted to him; and often, when he was near the lad, he almost felt as if the beloved form was by him in all its beauty--as if he felt the sweet breath of her love; and he would fain have taken the lad to his heart as if he had been the adored Felizitas herself.

"The winter was over; the beautiful spring shone forth, and blossomed in all its loveliness in wood and meadow. Elias Boos advised Traugott to go to some watering-place, or try a course of whey. Christina began to look forward to her marriage again, though Traugott seldom showed himself, and still seldomer allowed the idea of such a thing as marriage to enter his head.

"One day, Traugott had been obliged to go to the office and spend a considerable time there, in connection with the settlement of some important accounts; so that the usual hour for his lesson was long past, and he did not arrive at Berklinger's till it was late in the evening twilight. He found n.o.body in the front-room, and from the next proceeded the sound of a lute. He had never heard the instrument before. He listened. A song, broken by pauses, breathed through the chords like gentle sighs. He opened the door. Heavens! a female figure, in ancient German dress, was seated with her back to him, with high lace collar, exactly like the portrait. At the slight sound which Traugott made in opening the door, the lady rose, laid the lute on the table, and turned. It was her very self!

"'Felizitas!' Traugott cried wildly, in the fulness of his rapture, and was going to kneel at her feet, when he felt himself seized by the neck from behind, with a mighty grip, and dragged out of the room.

"'Profligate! Villain unparalleled!' cried old Berklinger, as he thrust him out, 'this is your love of art, is it? Do you want to kill me?'

"He dragged him out at the door; a knife was gleaming in his hand.

Traugott fled down-stairs, stupefied, half crazy with love and terror.

He hurried home.

"He rolled about, sleepless, from side to side in his bed.

"'Felizitas! Felizitas!' he cried, torn with anguish and love-pain; 'you are here, and I may not see you!--cannot take you to my arms! For you love me, that I know, by the bitter torture that I feel myself?'

"The spring sun came s.h.i.+ning brightly into his room; he pulled himself together, and resolved to get to the bottom of the mystery in Berklinger's house, cost what it might. He went there as quickly as he could; but what were his feelings when he saw that all the windows were open, and women busy cleaning out the rooms. He felt what had happened.

Berklinger and his son had left the house late the previous evening, and gone away, no one knew whither. A cart with two horses had taken away the boxes with the pictures, and the two small trunks which contained the Berklingers' little all; and he had followed, with his son, about half-an-hour afterwards. All efforts to trace them were vain; no stable-keeper had hired out horses to anybody answering to the description of them which Traugott gave; even at the town-gates he could hear nothing satisfactory. Berklinger had disappeared as if he had been carried away on Mephistopheles's mantle. Traugott ran home in utter despair.

"'She is gone! she is gone! the beloved of my soul! All--all is lost!'

he cried, as he went banging past Elias Roos (who happened to be in the front hall near the entry door) on his way to his room.

"'G.o.d bless my soul and body!' cried Herr Elias, shoving back his wig.

'Christina! Christina!' he then cried till the house rang; 'Christina!

horrible girl! undutiful daughter!'

"The clerks came running out of the office with faces of terror.

"'What's the matter, Herr Roos?' cried the bookkeeper, in great alarm; but Herr Roos went on shouting 'Christina! Christina!'

"'Just then Christina came in at the street-door, and, after she had lifted the brim of her broad straw-hat up a little, asked, with a smile, what her father was making such a shouting about.

"I'm not going to have you bolting away in this inexplicable sort of way,' Herr Elias roared at her, wrathfully in the extreme. 'The son-in-law's a melancholy sort of customer, and as jealous as the Grand Turk. Just you keep at home, d'ye see, or we shall have all the fat in the fire directly. My partner's sitting in there, howling and groaning, because you're out of the way somewhere.'

"Christina cast a look of amazement at the bookkeeper, who replied by a significant glance towards the office-cupboard where Herr Elias kept the cinnamon-water.

"'Better go in and comfort the intended,' he said, going back to the office. Christina went to her own room, just to put on some other 'things;' give out the week's was.h.i.+ng; make the necessary arrangements with the cook about the Sunday dinner, and hear the gossip of the town during that process, and then go at once and see what was the matter with the 'intended.'