Quicksands Part 4

The last chord died away, the player dropped his hands from the keys upon which his gaze had rested dreamily, and turned to Frau von Osternau with a smile.

"Pardon me, madame," he said, "I forgot myself, and have given you my own wild fancies. I could not resist the impulse of the moment, it is my misfortune that I lack self-control. But I will try to improve, and will make an instant beginning by praying you to suggest something you would like to hear, only begging you not to ask to-day for what is mere technique. We will postpone that to another hour."

Frau von Osternau's eyes were moist as she replied,--

"You must play no more at present. I would not have the pleasure you have just given me disturbed by a single other note. You are an artist, a divinely-inspired artist, Herr----" She hesitated; she could not bear at the moment to p.r.o.nounce the ridiculous name Pigglewitch, but it had to be done, nevertheless, and as she uttered it the spell that had held her was broken. The man's name recalled her to prosaic reality; again she was aware of the ugly, old-fas.h.i.+oned coat with its long pointed tails that hung down behind the music-stool and reached to the ground.

There sat before her no longer the artist who had transported her to 'a purer ether,' but the Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch, awaiting her further commands.

"There is no need, Herr Pigglewitch," she continued, "that I should hear anything more to be sure that you are capable of giving my children instruction in music, the future must show whether to teach is your vocation in life. Let us make the trial, and discover whether you are fitted for the situation, and whether you can be comfortable in fulfilling its duties. I frankly confess to you that I have my misgivings. You do not at all answer to the idea I had formed of the tutor recommended to me by the Herr Director Kramser, but then reality seldom corresponds to the representations of our imagination. With your consent, Fritz," she added, turning to her husband, "I beg Herr Pigglewitch to consider himself from this time our children's teacher."

"I give it with all my heart," Herr von Osternau replied, with a nod, offering his hand to the young man, who had left his seat and approached him. "There's my hand, Herr Pigglewitch, we will all put this matter honestly to the test. If we are unsuccessful, we can part friends, but I hope we shall succeed. From this moment the castle is your home, and I pray you to consider it such. My old Hildebrandt will show you to the rooms that have been prepared for you, and I will send Fritz to you that you may make acquaintance with your pupil. We dine at three, you can use the time until then in establis.h.i.+ng yourself in your new quarters. At table and while coffee is being served we can perhaps discuss some plan of instruction. We will detain you no longer at present."

Pigglewitch, upon whom Herr von Osternau's kindly manner made a most agreeable impression, thanked his employers courteously, and when old Hildebrandt appeared in answer to a touch upon a silver bell on the table beside his master, the young man followed him after a graceful bow to the lord and lady of the castle.

Silence reigned for many minutes in the room he had left. Frau von Osternau had taken up her knitting, the needles clicked incessantly as they always did when the lady was lost in thought. Her husband was the first to speak. "Tell me frankly, Emma, how you like your _protege_."

"I really do not know. I cannot make up my mind."

"Nor can I. A very strange fellow! He attracts and repels me. I called him a scarecrow when I saw him coming across the court-yard, but as he sat playing at the piano, and his dark eyes fairly shone, I thought him really handsome."

"So did I. What are we to think? But indeed since my good old friend Kramser has recommended him, we need be under no anxiety."

"It is odd though. I never should have imagined that so prosaic, commonplace a man as Kramser would have recommended so singular a person. How can the young fellow have been led to adopt teaching as a vocation? Will he, do you think, ever tame down the spirit that sparkles in those eyes to the dull routine of every-day life? If he does, we shall have cause for grat.i.tude to your friend Kramser for many an hour of enjoyment. You were right when you called him a divinely-gifted artist."

CHAPTER IV.

A CATO IN GOLDEN CURLS.

"Beg pardon, Herr Candidate, I must request you to follow me."

Old Hildebrandt bowed as he spoke these words, and proceeded to conduct Herr Gottlieb Pigglewitch to his apartments. In a corner of the hall lay the ancient travelling-bag. Pigglewitch would have picked it up to carry it to his room himself, but this Hildebrandt would by no means allow. "I will call a servant," he said, taking the bag from the young man's hand, and in answer to his twice-repeated call of "Johann!" a footman appeared, who was taken to task for his dilatoriness and ordered instantly to carry the Herr Candidate's portmanteau to his room.

Johann scanned the figure of the stranger contemptuously, mentally comparing the threadbare coat of the latter with his own well-kept livery. It was really quite derogatory to his dignity to carry such a fellow's luggage up the stairs. "It's not my place to fetch and carry for _him_!" he was mentally ejaculating, when he suddenly encountered the glance of the stranger's eye, and what he saw there was in such contrast to his shabby exterior that he meekly took the bag and obeyed Hildebrandt's directions.

The old servant led the way up the broad staircase and along a wide corridor, at the end of which he threw open a door with "This is your sitting-room, Herr Candidate."

Pigglewitch was most agreeably surprised by the appearance of the apartment into which he was ushered,--a large, comfortably-furnished room, lighted by two broad windows. The low, chintz-covered sofa, with its large pillows, the big arm-chairs, the piano in one corner, the well-filled book-shelves, the study-table, all gave the place a refined air of comfort which gratified the young man's taste. He was especially pleased to find a piano here,--his dormant love of music had suddenly revived. Formerly his piano had been his best friend, he greeted it once more with joy.

He went to the window, which looked out upon a charming old-fas.h.i.+oned garden filled with bloom, and an extent of close-shaven lawn.

The old servant allowed the young man time to observe the prospect, and then remarked, "This door leads into your bedroom, Herr Candidate, where you will find your wardrobe and conveniences for was.h.i.+ng, and where Johann has left your bag. The family dines at three o'clock punctually, and Herr von Osternau likes to have every one in the dining-hall as the clock begins to strike. It would be well if you would set your watch by the castle clock so as to be dressed by five minutes of three, when I shall with your permission show you the way to the dining-room. Madame likes to have every one dress for dinner; the Herr Lieutenant always does so, and when the Herr Inspectors are too busy to do so they dine in the Inspector's room and do not appear at table."

"You wish me to dress, then?" Pigglewitch asked, with a smile.

"If you please, Herr Candidate; I do not mean to presume, but you will like to know the custom of the household. Should you require anything further, you will be good enough to pull your bell three times in succession; the Herr Lieutenant rings twice and Herr von Osternau and madame once only. Johann will obey your summons immediately."

He bowed and left the room, leaving its occupant gazing thoughtfully out of the window. He looked across the blooming flower-beds, the velvet lawn, the luxuriant shrubbery, his eyes sought the distant horizon while his thoughts took shape in a half-muttered soliloquy: "The first step in the new life is taken, and everything differs utterly from my antic.i.p.ations. Where is the haughty aristocrat, the scornful lady, whom I hoped to inspire with horror by my appearance?

What has become of the struggle with arrogant self-a.s.sertion to which I looked forward? Positively my ill luck, the tiresome good fortune which has been lavished upon me ever since I was a child, pursues me here also, my irresponsible folly has introduced me to a household where any man save myself would be perfectly happy. Was it worth while to don Pigglewitch's ridiculous attire to be pursued here too by my fate? And, besides, how can I answer it to my conscience to deceive these worthy, unsuspicious people? If they were what I imagined them, arrogant, brutal, looking down with contempt upon the man whose services they had hired, there would have been some amus.e.m.e.nt in bringing their pride low in a contention with them. Such a struggle would have been worth a couple more weeks of existence. But now? Well, why not? I have something very different here from the eternal monotony of a fas.h.i.+onable society life. This one may be as tiresome, but variety will make it endurable for a time. I am already refreshed and enlivened by the idea of attempting to conform myself to new conditions of existence. But have I a right to play with these kindly people, to deceive them, for the gratification of a whim of the moment? Pshaw! It can do no harm to a.s.sume the _role_ of a Candidate Pigglewitch for a few days. I have acknowledged frankly that this is but a trial, that I mistrusted my own qualifications for the position; what more could be desired? And, besides, if my _alter ego_, the real Pigglewitch, had come to them, would they have been any better off? They ought to thank me for ridding them of him. The farce is begun; it must be carried out until--until it grows too tiresome, and then the sham Pigglewitch can go the same way that the real Pigglewitch was so near going but lately."

He paused. His thoughts were diverted from their course by the clear, joyous voice of a child in the garden below his windows.

A handsome little fellow, with fair close curls, broke forth from the shrubbery on the farther side of the lawn, and a few steps behind him came running, still faster, a girl hardly more than a child. She tried to catch the boy, he slipped from her but only for a moment. She caught him, lifted him in her arms, kissed him, and then putting him down with "Now catch me, Fritzchen!" she vanished again among the bushes. It was a charming picture. The graceful, girlish figure had glided like a fairy over the lawn, seeming to the spectator rather to fly than to run. With all her tender grace how strong and healthy she looked!

Pigglewitch had but one fleeting glimpse of her face, when she lifted the boy and kissed him. It seemed to him wonderfully lovely, but the next instant she had disappeared in the shrubbery, and the boy followed her with a shout.

"Herr Fritzchen! Fraulein! Fraulein Lieschen!"

Old Hildebrandt was standing in the gravel-path that ran through the garden, calling in stentorian tones.

"Yes, yes!" came from the shrubbery, and immediately afterwards the brother and sister appeared, hand in hand, running swiftly. As they crossed the lawn, however, they slackened their pace, so that Pigglewitch could observe them at his ease. They were extremely alike, both handsome, but the maidenly charm of the young girl was indescribably attractive.

"What is it? Why are you calling us, Hildebrandt?" she asked, from a distance. The tone of her voice delighted the ear of the listener at the window. It was rich, clear, and melodious.

"Madame your mother sent me. The Herr Tutor has come. Fritzchen is to go to him in his room immediately."

"The new tutor? Oh, I must see him too!" was Lieschen's reply, and hand in hand with her little brother she ran so swiftly towards the castle that her golden curls were blown backward by the wind.

Pigglewitch turned from the window and looked towards the door in expectation of the visit. That beautiful boy was to be his charge, that charming fairy his pupil in music. Here was another surprise. Would fortune never tire of showering her favours upon him? This time, however, her gifts did not strike him as tiresome. If he had ever hesitated as to whether he should carry out his mad scheme of remaining as tutor in Castle Osternau, all such hesitation was now at an end.

He waited but a few moments before light, tripping steps were heard in the corridor, then came a low, melodious laugh, and then a knock at his door.

"Come in!"

The door opened, and on the threshold there appeared, still hand in hand, the beautiful boy and the golden-haired fairy. The girl looked around the room with an air of arch curiosity, but no sooner did her eyes encounter Pigglewitch's figure than she burst into a laugh, which she vainly tried to suppress. She blushed, her efforts at self-control were evident, but they were of no use. One glance towards the new tutor was enough to provoke her merriment afresh. Thus, still laughing, she advanced into the room with Fritzchen, who looked in shy amazement at the stranger.

The young lady's unbridled mirth aroused in Pigglewitch, who guessed its cause, a very disagreeable sensation. On the day previous, and on this very morning, he had contemplated his image in his hand-gla.s.s with much complacency, congratulating himself upon the impression his slouching, bedraggled figure would make upon the aristocratic inmates of Castle Osternau. His expectations had been fulfilled, and were being fulfilled at this moment, but he was not enjoying himself. The prolonged laughter of the young girl vexed him, and as she sank into an arm-chair, and seemed entirely unable to regain her composure, he bit his lip and gave utterance to his annoyance by observing, sharply, "May I inquire the cause of your amiable merriment, Fraulein?"

The question only provoked a fresh burst of laughter, after which the girl controlled herself for a moment sufficiently to reply, "I am so sorry, but indeed I cannot help it when I look at you, you do look so utterly ridiculous!"

"Your pertinent reply bears testimony to taste in dress and to love of truth rather than to good breeding on your part, Fraulein."

Lieschen suddenly grew graver; she looked him fairly in the face for the first time. Hitherto her attention had been given to the queer black coat, with its long, pointed tails. She saw now that its wearer was offended, and she said, kindly and ruefully, "I am sorry to have vexed you, but indeed I could not help it. I mean no harm, but I must laugh when I look at you." Then, suddenly altering her tone, she went on, "But why should I excuse my conduct? Have you not just called my reply pertinent and a proof of good taste? consequently you must know yourself how utterly ridiculous that old-fas.h.i.+oned coat is, how ugly you look in it. If you come to Castle Osternau dressed like a scarecrow, you must not complain if you are laughed at. Hildebrandt told me how odd you looked. He prepared me, and yet I could not help laughing when I saw you. How can you wear such clothes? They do not suit your face at all, and Hildebrandt says you played the piano most delightfully."

She looked him full in the face as she thus lectured him, and shook her curls with a charming air of severity.

"A poor Candidate has no means wherewith to dress himself elegantly,"

Pigglewitch replied, colouring in spite of himself at the girl's reproof, the truth of which he could not deny, and taking refuge in prevarication.

"I do not believe you," Lieschen replied, adding after a short pause, during which she looked at him with grave reproof in her eyes, "It shows a want of respect for papa and mamma and for all of us. If you knew no better we could not help laughing at you although we should pity you, but your words betray your consciousness of the ridiculous appearance you present, and yet you come dressed thus to Castle Osternau. Papa always dresses for dinner, although he is an old man and the head of the house. And would you teach Fritzchen and me in that coat? Then do not ask us to be serious. Oh, I cannot help laughing when I look at you!"

She leaned back among the cus.h.i.+ons of the arm-chair as her laughter burst forth again, while little Fritz, whom awe of the new tutor had hitherto kept quiet, was emboldened by his sister's example, and also laughed aloud.

The situation was by no means an agreeable one for Pigglewitch. If the girl's reproof had only not been so just! He cursed himself for his folly in exchanging clothes with the real Pigglewitch, but the deed was past recall, and he must bear the consequences.

"You ought not to ridicule poverty, Fraulein," he observed, merely for something to say.