[1]Odin had his ship of this kind, called Skidbladnir, or the skating leaf, and in the Scandinavian Sagas such convenient vessels are frequently mentioned.
[1]Odin had his ship of this kind, called Skidbladnir, or the skating leaf, and in the Scandinavian Sagas such convenient vessels are frequently mentioned.
It was very hot in the school-room at Steinheim, almost as hot as in an oven, although the faded green blinds were drawn down. Neither learning nor teaching goes forward satisfactorily on such days; and, indeed, it was as much as the good schoolmaster could do, especially during this hot summer, to keep himself and his dear children awake over their books. When he walked up and down the narrow space between his tall chair and the school-benches, like a caged lion, the children asked one another anxiously, "Do you think he is angry?" not knowing that he only did so to prevent himself from falling fast asleep in his chair. There was not much danger of this happening among the children, for if any one of them dropped his head somewhat over his book, another was sure to tickle him under the nose with a pen-feather, so that he suddenly woke up again.
To-day, however, the children were not sleepy, but neither were they industrious. Whilst they were reading, they kept looking up continually from their books to the door, as if expecting somebody, and yet at this time there seldom came any one, unless now and then an over-anxious mother who thought that her Michael or little Jacob had been too hardly dealt with. To-day, however, according to old custom, the schoolmaster's daughter Mina, and the bailiff's Emma, were gone to the clergyman's to ask about the breaking-up. For always as the time of the holidays approached, Mr. Erdmann, the schoolmaster, drew up a very politely expressed document in the name of the children, in which the clergyman was requested, "now the harvest season was at hand," that he would give permission to the children to discontinue their attendance at school "in order," said the writing, "that we may be able to assist our parents in the laborious business of the field."
These petitions were then beautifully copied out by the best-writer in the school, and two little girls chosen to present them to the clergyman, because they were so much gentler and better-behaved than the unmannerly boy population.
It was never known that the clergyman had returned a negative to these petitions for the school vacation, and yet there was always an uneasiness and an excitement amongst the children which could not be allayed. They might now almost have been on the eve of a little revolution; even Fritz, the schoolmaster's son, could not keep himself quiet, but fidgeted restlessly hither and thither. And yet Fritz was the best and cleverest scholar in the school; he was destined for the church, and had been instructed in Latin and Greek by the clergyman; therefore it was his duty to set a good example to all the others. This honourable post, it is true, had cost him an extra number of canings from his father, till finally he was advanced so far that the schoolmaster was able to say, with fatherly pride, when the others were lazy or behaved ill, "There, look at my Fritz!"
At length the door opened, and the girls entered, who had on this occasion an especial importance in the eyes of the boys, and who, with their smooth, beautifully plaited hair and pink frocks, looked very pretty.
"We are to break up!" said they, delivering thus to the schoolmaster, with beaming countenances, the answer to the embassy. "We are to break up!" was whispered loud and low throughout the school; but the master struck a blow with the hazel stick upon his desk, and amidst an instantaneous silence he said in a clear voice, "Silentium! that is to say, keep your tongues still! The clergyman has consented to the breaking up. Fritz, say it in Latin."
"Hodie feriæ habemus!" proclaimed Fritz in a shrill voice.
"Good! That is to say, to-day we break up," explained the schoolmaster. "But you must, every one of you, write three beautiful copies; farther, you must commit to memory the six hymns that are marked, and two pages of selections, as well as ''Tis harvest time, the nodding corn!' Now, behave well, all of you, and be industrious; and go very quietly home, every one of you, like well-conducted children."
Yes, indeed, very quietly and well-conducted! The little troop burst forth like a wild herd into the open air, as soon as the door was opened.
"Hurrah! Breaking up!" shouted they, wild with joy; even the exemplary Fritz set up such an unbecoming shout of exultation that his father, who, however, was well pleased himself, thought it right to give him an admonitory pluck by the hair. Soon after the wild herd dispersed; many amongst them entering into such poor, joyless homes, that in comparison the school must have appeared a paradise, and yet they rejoiced that they had broken up, and we cannot be angry with them. It is the fact of labour, of regular occupation, which makes the feeling of liberty so like a golden blessing; the neglected lad, who lounges about idly one day after another, certainly never experiences the happy sense of a breaking up.
Arrived at home, the schoolmaster exchanged his thin school-coat for his house-doublet, and seated himself comfortably on the wooden squab, for which his wife had made a cushion, for he had neither a house-coat nor yet a sofa.
"Now, thank Heaven, for again a short pause," said the weary and hard-working man; "it will do me good to have a little rest, and look after my garden; and the bailiff has promised me some beautiful carnation-layers, it is not yet too late for them; we'll have it very beautiful, won't we, mother?"
"Yes, yes, father," replied the acquiescent wife; "only early in the morning, and not in the blazing heat of noon."
In the meantime, Fritz was earnestly and mysteriously whispering to Mina in a corner. "Doyouask," at length said Mina. "Nay,youhad better," returned he.
Mina, who had this day been with the clergyman, might surely venture a word with her father, and she began therefore, at first shyly, and then more boldly, "But, father, is it true?"
"What true?" asked he.
"May we?" asked she again slowly.
"May you what?" inquired he again.
"Go to see Mrs. Dote at the castle!" exclaimed Fritz, now speaking quite boldly, and astonished at his own courage.
"Yes, oh yes, father!" now besought Mina, earnestly and in a winning tone. "You have no objection, mother, have you?" asked she, addressing her mother; "and if mother is willing, father, you won't say no, will you?"
"And Mrs. Dote has invited us," said Fritz decisively; "and you promised, you know, father, and you always keep your word."
"Why, yes; what do you think, mother?" said the good-natured father, somewhat undecidedly.
"I don't know what to say," replied the mother, thoughtfully, "whether Mrs. Dote really meant it; and it is such a long way."
"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Fritz, "five hours' walk, the nearest way fifteen miles; we can do that very well."
"But you can't spare Mina, can you?" suggested the father.
"Well, as far as that goes," said the mother smiling, "I think I can manage; little Paul will soon run alone, and Adolf plays about nicely in the garden. If you have no objection, father, we might give them the pleasure for once; I can soon have their few things ready."
"Oh, mother, how kind and good you are!" exclaimed little Mina joyfully; Fritz threw his cap in the air, and shouted, "Hurrah! all the world over!"
The father's consent was silently given, and preparations for the journey began as if it really were round the world that they were going.
Before daylight, on the following morning, the children were already up. Mina combed and plaited her long hair by herself, in order to prove to her mother that she was fit to be trusted alone amongst strangers. Fritz also was washed and his hair combed, and he himself carefully dressed by the same hour, for on those hot summer days it was necessary to set out early.
The schoolmaster had given the children a very exact description of the road and all the places through which they must pass; the mother put bread and early pears in Mina's basket as refreshment by the way, together with some nice fresh butter, carefully laid in damp green leaves as a little present for Mrs. Dote. Fritz's knapsack was packed as full as it could hold, with his Sunday clothes, a clean frock for Mina, and a change of linen, and all else that was necessary for them both, on so great and unexampled a journey. Mina was to carry the little basket, and a large red umbrella, a piece of old family property, which the mother gave them in case of need. They made a hearty breakfast of new milk and bread, and this over Fritz took his cap and his newly-cut hazel stick in his hand, whilst Mina, having put on her round straw hat, took the little basket on her arm. Their hearts felt a little heavy on this the first great leave-taking of their lives, and the good mother seemed as if she could never make an end of her admonitions and warnings, her messages and compliments to Mrs. Dote. But at length the last farewell was spoken, and the brother and sister, their young hearts throbbing with the excitement of adventure, set forth on their way. The parents gazed after them till they had turned the corner, and then the father went into his beloved flower-garden, and the mother into the house, to look after her yet sleeping children.
Mina's heavy heart was soon light, as she walked on in the clear freshness of the morning air, which heralded a fine day. These children were not accustomed to parties of pleasure or to amusements; their journeyings hitherto had never extended beyond three or four miles from home, as far as Elsingen, where the grandmother lived, and yet now they had set out on such a long journey on a visit to Mrs. Dote, the lady-housekeeper of a royal castle! How joyously their hearts beat, how brilliantly their imaginations coloured the glories that awaited them!
Mrs. Dote, the castle housekeeper, was once lady's maid in the noble family of Erlichhofen, where, also, the schoolmaster had held his first appointment; she had, in consequence, become very friendly with the schoolmaster's family, and had been greatly looked up to, as a person of much experience, by the schoolmaster's young wife, so that the black-eyed Fritz, who was her godson, had an especial claim to her regard. Years went on; the schoolmaster was ordered to a distant place, and they heard nothing for a long time of Miss Lisette, till at length she surprised them by a visit with her husband, an old man, keeper or house-steward of the royal hunting-castle of Barenburg, whom she, not then by any means young herself, had married. The schoolmaster and his wife returned the visit, and there it ended; for the distance was too great for the wife, who was delicate, to go on foot, and driving was too expensive an affair for a schoolmaster. Soon afterwards, also, the house-steward fell ill, and his wife was wholly engaged in attending him; and after his death, being herself advanced to his office, and the care of the castle entirely confided to her, she could not be absent from her trust even for a single day. She had, however, long since invited her godson and his sister to pay her a visit, and now at length it was about to be accomplished.
The children walked onward, beguiling the way with merry talk; they had soon passed the familiar scenes which lay between them and the next village, and thenceforth it was wholly a land of new discovery. "But, look, that little brook runs along a good deal merrier than our slow Steinbach at home!"
"Just look there, on the hillside lies a churchyard, with nothing but white crosses!" said Mina, in a melancholy tone.
"A beautiful churchyard!" laughed out Fritz, "it's nothing but a flock of geese; hark how they are cackling!"
"Oh yes!" returned little Mina, sorry that she had felt melancholy without any need. "But what a queer church-tower! Do you see, there are four little towers round one great old one! And just look there, they have got the stork's nest on the town-house! how foolish! A stork's nest belongs to the church."
By degrees, however, the spirit for making new discoveries cooled; the cheerful talk ceased, and their steps became more and more weary; the sun was very hot, and the children were unaccustomed to long walks. They had, before setting out, said so much about their own strength, that they now felt ashamed of confessing to each other how tired they were, till at length Mina said, "But, I say, Fritz, how far have we yet to go?"
"We must sit down for a little while that I may study our travelling-map," said Fritz consequentially; and they looked out for a nice, shady place, on the grassy edge of the field, under some willows, which having found, it was with a great sense of relief that the boy threw down his knapsack and stretched himself on the soft green turf. "Mossigheim, a mile and half," read he from the paper on which his father had noted down the distances; "we have passed that; Erlach, three miles—that was the place with the queer church-tower; Rothenhof, three miles—that must be the beautiful farm-house yonder, all amongst the fruit trees; next comes Disselsburg, where father said we were to take our first rest. Now, however, we must quietly study the travelling-map; but we will, in the first place, rest a little while."
"Oh yes!" sighed little Mina, who was thoroughly tired; "but shall we be soon at the castle?"
"Not just yet," said Fritz, in a low voice; "we have only come about seven miles and a half, and we have now ten and a half to go."
"Oh, that is impossible!" exclaimed Mina, "for it is only fifteen miles altogether."
"Well, see," said Fritz, drawing out with great importance his father's silver watch, as large and as thick almost as a warming-pan, and which had been lent to him for this journey; "we set out at five o'clock, now it is eight; we will only go a little farther, as far as to where the guide-post stands."
"Is it eight o'clock, and so hot already!" sighed Mina; "dear Fritz, I should so like to go to sleep for a little while!"
"Go to sleep," said he, in a fatherly tone, "and I'll take care of you the while; when you have had half-an-hour's sleep, we shall be able to reach Mrs. Dote's by noon."
Mina folded the shawl that her mother had given her in case of cool evenings, laid it under her head, and dropped into a sweet sleep. Fritz thought he could look at the country far better if he lay down, and his well-filled knapsack making a splendid pillow, he, too, was soon fast asleep by his sister, they, neither of them, having slept well the preceding night. They forgot the heat, the weariness, and the oppressive thirst, which the pears they had eaten, and which were not very juicy, had rather increased than otherwise. Fritz forgot also that he had not only his sister, but his father's precious watch to guard, and slept as sweetly and as soundly as in his bed at home.
"Nay, what sort of tramps have we got lying here!" was the exclamation which Fritz heard, as he at length awoke out of a long sound sleep. He looked up with amazement and rubbed his eyes, as he saw the green trees and the blue sky above him, instead of the white-washed ceiling at home, and a tall respectable-looking countryman standing before him, who again spoke: "Eh, my young fellow, where do you come from?"
Fritz was now wholly master of himself, and whilst Mina slowly awoke, and like himself gazed round her with astonishment, he related to the farmer where they came from, and the journey they were upon, in proof of which he showed him his father's silver watch and the map of the journey which he had drawn.
"Indeed! you are going to Barenburg, then; I know the housekeeper very well; she is a very good lady; but it is twelve full miles there, every inch! In what condition are your feet for walking?"
Fritz sprang up, and felt himself again ready for the march; Mina's limbs, however, were stiff from the rest; and when she began to walk, it was with difficulty.
"Nay, that young lass is not used to such long walks," said the farmer good-naturedly; "she can get as far as my house down yonder, and then we must see what is to be done."
And what a beautiful, substantial farm-house they were taken to, with the pretty garden in front, and the splendid meadow behind, and the nice cool parlour, which was shaded from the sun by the projecting thatch; and then what a kind farmer's wife she was, who set before them delicious butter-milk and new-baked cakes, for they had that morning been baking. The children were overjoyed. Mina had heard and read a great deal about the dangers of the world, but if everywhere throughout the world people were as good as these, it could not be so very bad. The farmer's wife, who had been born and brought up at this farm, and had never in all her life been farther from home than Disselsburg, felt great compassion for the children, who had come such a long way. She would not therefore hear of them again setting out before dinner, although they had partaken so largely of cake and butter-milk that they were in no condition to do much honour to the excellent buttered oatmeal porridge, of which the dinner principally consisted.
The children of the farmer, who also came hot and tired from the school, beheld with great astonishment the young travellers, who appeared to them to have such polished town manners, though Steinheim was anything but metropolitan. Before long, however, they became quite familiar, took them into the stable and showed them a calf and a young kid.
It was very agreeable to the children in this hospitable house, but the twelve full miles, of which the farmer had spoken, lay like a weight on Mina's soul. How could it possibly be so far to Barenburg Castle?
"Do you know what?" said the farmer, when, after dinner, they were thinking of again setting out. "I promised some time ago to take a waggon-load of straw to Kochendorf; I shall not be doing anything with the horses this afternoon, I will therefore have the straw loaded; you can ride nicely upon it, and from Kochendorf down to Barenburg is only a nice little mile and half, and in the cool of the evening I can drive home, and you reach the end of your journey."
No sooner said than done! Fritz thought it was rather a pity that the pedestrian journey upon which they had calculated so much had now dwindled down to a mere nothing; but Mina, not being ambitious in this way, accepted with the greatest delight a lofty seat on the soft bundles of straw. The beautiful butter that her mother had sent by them for Mrs. Dote was becoming soft from the heat by this time, therefore the kind farmer's wife exchanged it for some of her own, which was fresh, of a much finer colour and quality, and quite firm from having been kept in ice-cold water.
Towards evening, a little shaken, but at the same time nicely rocked as in a cradle, for the waggon travelled slowly, the children reached Kochendorf. The waggoner helped them down from their lofty throne-like seat; Mina carefully picked off from Fritz and herself all the straws that hung dangling about them, then taking up their knapsack and basket, after a friendly leave of the kind farmer, they followed in the cool of the evening, with renewed strength and cheerful hearts, the road that was pointed out to them.
It was at first a narrow green path between thick hedges, where they could scarcely see many paces in advance; before long, however, it opened into a broad, magnificent avenue of old lime-trees, which, now in flower, filled the air with a delicious fragrance. With beating hearts and full of a strange expectation, the children pursued this road which seemed already very grand, and unlike anything they had been accustomed to.
There,—all at once, the road again expanding, the castle stood before their astonished gaze, in its ancient splendour! Two gigantic bears, carved in stone, which gave name to the castle, stood like sentinels before it; whilst bounding deer on the pillars, and a pair of monstrous stag's horns on the pediment, showed it to be, as of old, a hunting castle. Lofty gates opening upon broad flights of steps led to a green turfed front court, where, in the midst of flowering shrubs, a splendid fountain threw aloft its silvery jet of water. The last golden beams of the setting sun lit up the beautiful old building, and the children stood enraptured, seeming almost to have entered into Fairyland.
"Now, where are you going?" inquired in a somewhat surprised, but not unfriendly voice, an old gentleman handsomely dressed in blue uniform with white facings, who was pacing slowly up and down with a thick cane, to which was attached a thick tassel. Fritz supposing that at least he must be a general, and hardly knowing what title sufficiently elevated to give him, replied, "Your pardon, dear prince!" this being a style of address to dignified persons, which he had met with in an old almanac,—"Your pardon, but we are only going to Mrs. Dote, the housekeeper. You know Mrs. Dote, perhaps," he added, with a certain degree of consequence.
"Oh, yes, to Mrs. Housekeeper Walter," returned he graciously, and smiling to himself at the grand title which had been given, for he was no greater a personage than the porter. "You must simply ring at the little side-door yonder. Mrs. Housekeeper told me that she was expecting some visitors;" and he pointed out with his stick the direction in which they must go.
Encouraged by this gracious reception, and yet anxious, nevertheless, the children advanced to the wing of the castle which had been indicated, and which opened into the inner court, where again they had another view of the castle, which on this side, lying in deep shadow, looked still more imposing and mysterious than in the front. Here, seated on a bench in a little garden, sat a stately lady, with her hands lying gracefully one upon the other in her lap, and who had turned her head towards the shyly-advancing children.
"So, so, there comes at last my little schoolmaster!" exclaimed she in a pleasant voice as they approached. "Well, it is nice that you are come! Yes, yes, mountain and valley cannot meet, but people can! How little I thought that the baby Fritz that I carried in my arms to be baptized, and dandled so nicely to keep him from crying, would one day come to see me such a fine young fellow! But now, come in with me, you must be hungry."
Anything more charming than Mrs. Dote's little parlour could not be imagined; the children thought that the princess herself could not live in one more beautiful. It was full of all such old, carved furniture as was superfluous in the castle; a little sofa and high-backed chairs of faded blue silk damask; a cabinet and table of marqueterie and ormolu; a splendid fire-screen, on which figured, in faded embroidery, a shepherdess with her flock of sheep feeding around her. By the stove stood a basket lined with wool, in which lay a fat lap-dog, so soundly asleep as only to make a little grumbling as the children entered; a beautiful cage hung in the window, in which was a canary bird, now too aged to sing; vases of artificial flowers; portraits of princely personages; every kind of splendour, in short, which was not wanted elsewhere, gave to this apartment a princely appearance; and the children, who had never in their lives seen anything more beautiful than the bright sofa which stood in the parsonage parlour, were dumb with reverential wonder.
But it was not possible to remain very long silent with Mrs. Walter, as she was called at the castle; she was lively and talkative, and knew how to win the children's confidence. She led them to talk to her about their life at home, about their parents and their little brothers, and she in her turn told them of the time when she and their parents lived such near neighbours.
"I had not such a very easy life in those days," she said. "I had been left an orphan when very young, and for many years was knocked about amongst strangers. The lady I then lived with was very queer-tempered and proud; for it often happens, that those who have only riches to boast of, are not nearly so affable and considerate as the truly nobly born. I had no parents, no brothers nor sisters, and felt myself quite alone in the world. Then came your parents, and as I myself was the daughter of a schoolmaster, I had naturally a liking for schoolmasters. Your mother is of a timid, gentle nature. I was much older, and had, as a matter of course, much more experience than she; I therefore was able to help her in many ways, and, in short, I found quite a home with your parents. We had very nice times together, and sympathized with each other in joy and in sorrow. I could not have stayed in my place when they left if I had not become acquainted with my blessed late husband, the castle house-steward, who, when we married, brought me here, where it was quite another thing to living in the house merely of a wealthy baron."
"Was your gentleman-husband, the castle house-steward, as elegant as the gentleman out there in the blue coat?" asked Fritz.
"As he?" asked Mrs. Walter, with offended pride. "Get along with you! He is a simple porter, and was my husband's underling! You should have seen my husband in his grand official uniform, with his beautiful white hair and his bunch of keys, going through the castle before the grandees, and relating everything from the days of the late prince up to the time of the ever-blessed Emperor Charlemagne! I learnt it all off from him, and it is to me just as if I had been born and brought up in the castle. But now, children, you must have your suppers. Barbett has made us some currant-marmalade; to-night you must go to bed early; to-morrow you shall see everything."
The children would gladly have seen something of the castle that night. Through the window they could see only in the moonlight mysterious-looking marble statues, and hear the splash of the fountain; but they expressed their acquiescence, and after they had eaten the currant marmalade, which did great credit to Barbett, they were conducted to their beds, where a new delight awaited them.
For Mina a bed had been prepared in the lady housekeeper's own pretty chamber, whilst that for Fritz was in a small room adjoining, where all kinds of curiosities were stowed together. But they did not forget, according to the promise they had made their mother, before going to sleep, to thank their Father in heaven, who had brought them safely to the end of their journey. Mina, in going to sleep, looked upon a large portrait of some princely child in a rose-coloured laced coat, and with high-dressed hair. Fritz, on the other hand, was faced by an ancient folding-screen, upon which an Indian princess was riding on an elephant. They both, however, soon dropped asleep, to pass into a world of wonderful dreams.
But the waking next morning was still more wonderful. They opened their eyes, and did not know where they were, and thought they were still at home at Steinheim, in their little tiny chambers, till all at once they remembered that they had now actually and truly awakened in a castle. Then Mina found a beautiful china basin ready for her to wash in, whereas, at home, they had each to fill the iron dish with water from the well before they could wash; and the breakfast-table, with its handsome old-fashioned blue and white china service, and aniseed bread, because they had not fresh bread every day at Barenburg Castle; indeed, everything was just like a fairy tale.
And yet that was only the beginning of the glorious things which were displayed to their enraptured gaze, when, after breakfast, Mrs. Walter took the important bunch of keys, and conducted the children through the chambers and state apartments of the castle. Softly, very softly and carefully, with a sort of reverential awe, they stepped along the narrow line of carpet which was laid on the polished inlaid floors, only now and then allowing an exclamation of pure astonishment to escape their lips, as when, for instance, they beheld their own figures advancing at full length, to meet them in the lofty mirror-doors, or when some other object of more than ordinary magnificence, or of an unusual character, caught their eyes.
The flight of steps which led from the garden, through the lofty glass doors, opened into the dining-hall, in which the gentlemen were accustomed to dine on their return from the chase. The walls were painted with a series of beautiful pictures, representing a forest, through the thick underwood of which a slender roe glanced forth here and there, or where, on the margin of some splendid lake, the noble stag was quenching his thirst, or a mighty boar whetting his tusks on the trunk of some old forest tree. Above, on the ceiling, the gallant falcon and the heron seemed to be floating under masses of well-painted clouds. The dishes and drinking vessels of the table, which were exhibited in a large antique glass cupboard, were all formed from stags' horn, or were ornamented therewith; splendid and immensely large deers' antlers were fastened upon the walls, and under each pair was an inscription stating that the noble animal which had worn these antlers had been killed by this or that royal prince, now long deceased. To this hall succeeded small apartments, the one more beautiful than the other, the favourite suite of rooms of the late princess, furnished with sky-blue silk; a dancing hall, with splendidly painted walls, representing ladies and gentlemen in antiquated costume, who were making stately bows and curtseys to each other, and a gloomy chamber furnished with dark red silk damask, containing an immense richly gilded bed, in which a persecuted emperor had once slept. Mina felt frightened in this room, and pressed still closer to Mrs. Walter.
"There, sit down," said the old lady, "you are tired, poor child;" and she pointed to a handsome arm-chair, covered with blue silk, which stood beside the bed. Mina timidly seated herself, but she started up again terrified, for that very moment, from the seat of the chair, was heard in the sweetest, flute-like notes, the melody, "Rejoice ye in life!" which her father, when he was not too weary, played so often to them on the old spinnet at home. That was the most wonderful thing of all—a chair which could play music more beautifully even than her father himself! After this they walked on more quietly still, looking continually round, in the expectation of some other wonderful surprise.
Mrs. Walter, through her late husband, the son of a yet older house-steward, who had been brought up in the castle, had herself so completely entered into the spirit of the place as almost to regard it as her own property, and she was therefore as much gratified by the delight and astonishment of the children as if it had been a personal compliment to herself.
"Now, is it not beautiful?" asked she of Mina, as she turned the key in the last door.
"Very beautiful to look at," replied Mina, "but I don't know whether I should quite like to live in it. I don't know a single little nook where I could sit with my knitting."
But such little nooks abounded all the more beautifully and sweeter in the garden, where the children found a new world of wonder. According to their ideas, derived from the garden at home, which was celebrated, not only in the village itself, but through the whole neighbourhood, they imagined, under the name of a garden, a beautiful smooth piece of ground, divided into accurately-formed vegetable-beds, which wore bordered and adorned with lovely flowers, and in the very middle of all a green painted garden-house covered with creepers. Here, however, it was quite different.
Adjoining the castle was "the garden in the pig-tail style," as Mrs. Walter said, with ornamental twisted borders, the paths strewn with bright gravel, and planted all about with box-trees clipped into the strangest shapes, balls, pyramids, and even the human form, and, in the middle of all, a fountain which threw up water almost higher than the one in the front. For a great distance also beyond the castle extended, too, what was called "the park," with shrubberies, in which stood wonderful statues; where, amidst lawns of fine turf, shone forth the most gloriously brilliant beds of flowers, where was a little lake, with its red and white painted little vessel, and a cottage built of tree-stems, in which sat an old hermit in a brown gown, with a white beard, and a large open book before him, who turned his head and lifted his spectacles when any one opened the door.
Mina, and even the courageous Fritz, ran away screaming at first, until at length, accustomed by degrees to the miracle, and assured by Mrs. Walter that the old man was only a painted figure, they took heart, though the machinery remained a great wonder to them.
There was many a charming little nook amongst the shrubs on the soft green sward in front of the lake, on which two old swans belonging to former times swam about, where the children could sit side by side and tell each other stories and fairy tales. Nor yet had they come to an end of the discoveries in the garden, nor yet had Fritz wholly completed the accurate description of the journey which he had promised to send his father.
The children had been accustomed to a simple, laborious life, therefore their holidays appeared to them a season of the purest enjoyment. Mina, brought up to very early rising, was every morning ready dressed, and put her head within her brother's little chamber to summon him, whilst he was yet generally asleep; and every morning Fritz asked her, "But, I say, Mina, isn't it a dream?" and she replied laughing, "No, it isn't a dream."
Amidst all the pleasure and the delight of their beautiful surroundings, they also endeavoured to do all they possibly could to be of use to Mrs. Dote. Fritz cut small firewood for her, and piled it up neatly in the kitchen; they both helped her to look after the little garden which she had for her own especial pleasure. Mina threaded her needle, which was not always easy for her old eyes to accomplish; and Mrs. Dote, on her part, taught her all kinds of beautiful stitches in needlework, and described to her the magnificent dresses which she made, and of which she had the care when she was lady's-maid.
"Ah! what good times the gentlefolks have!" sighed Mina; "when I think how my mother has to consider before she buys a cotton gown, and countesses have satin and velvet and silk gauze."
"Never trouble yourself about that, child," said Mrs. Walter, "there are often heavy hearts under the light gauzes and the shining silks. I was right glad over my lowly condition, when I came to understand thoroughly this high life."
"Yes, I must say," remarked Fritz, who was sitting at a side-table engaged over the history of his travels, "the porter below there seemed to me at first very high-bred and elegant; but if I had every day of my life to walk up and down in front of this beautiful castle——"
Here he was interrupted, for at that moment a knock was heard at the door, and in came, to Fritz's great surprise and embarrassment, the very porter, the burden of whose life he had been compassionating. It was very seldom that he quitted his post, although there was now nothing to attend to at the castle door, where, frequently for months together, not a soul approached the place excepting the few servants who now were kept there. Mrs. Walter therefore looked with inquisitive wonder at the large letter which he held in his hand.
"There, read, Mrs. Housekeeper," he said, "it is just come; there will now be work enough for us."
"Really!" exclaimed Mrs. Walter, "the Princess Clotilde, with her children! Now, that is charming! It has always grieved me so that the beautiful castle should stand unoccupied, and I am glad that it is precisely that excellent lady who is coming. To-morrow? Well, I must look about me. Everything is in order, however; nothing but the beds want getting ready. Good, very good, Mr. Schnallenberger."
Mr. Schnallenberger retired with a dignified mien. Mrs. Walter rose up with an air of business, and took up the important bunch of keys, saying, "Come, Mina, you shall go with me; you can be of some use."
"Ah! a real, living princess," said Mina, "I shall be frightened if I meet her."
"I shall not," said Fritz boldly, "all men are equal before God, prince or peasant or nobleman; it makes no difference."
"You talk as you know, foolish boy," said Mrs. Dote, now for the first time really angry; "it is true that God created all men equal, but the Lord himself has appointed to each one his particular place; one in a lofty position, another humbler, and the humble must never fail in respect; and the lofty will one day be called to answer before the Lord for his stewardship, whether he have done well or evil, with that which was intrusted to him."
"But in that world," persisted Fritz in a somewhat low voice, "there will be no distinctions of rank."
"In that world," returned Mrs. Walter warmly, "our Lord, it is true, will not judge according to rank and station, but according to every one's work, according to the obedience of faith with which the will of the Father has been done. And the will of the Father is, that every one abide submissively in his own place without envy and without pride; remember that, you conceited boy, with your equality!"
Fritz thought it wisest to remain silent, after this reproof, although really what he meant was not so bad, after all.
Mina accompanied the old lady to the large press which contained the delicate, though somewhat yellow, bed-linen trimmed with fine lace; and that which was necessary was given out for the beds, and the chambers were made ready for their new inhabitants.
The princess arrived at Barenburg Castle on the evening of the following day. The housekeeper, in her most splendid attire, a violet silk dress and a splendid lace cap, together with the rest of the household, solemnly received her at the foot of the flight of steps leading into the castle. The children witnessed the arrival from the little window of the porter's room, and even the free-minded Fritz felt a reverential throbbing of the heart, as he saw the carriage-step let down, and the princess alight, wholly different in appearance to what he had expected; not a lofty, magnificent lady in a crimson silk dress and a little crown on her head, like Queen Esther or Pharaoh's daughter in the picture Bible, but a somewhat small, slender lady, in a grey silk dress and simple white bonnet, which she took off, as she stood on the castle-steps, gazing with agreeable surprise, as it seemed, on the beautiful ancient structure and its charming surroundings. Her brown hair was simply parted under a small blond cap, and her blue eyes glanced so mildly from the delicate, pale countenance, that the children, seeming to forget that they had expected anything different, Mina whispered softly to Fritz, "But she must be very, very good, though."
Whilst they were watching the princess, the servants assisted two beautiful children from the carriage, who now joyously, and with an exclamation of astonishment, sprang up the castle steps; a boy and a girl, somewhat younger than Fritz and Mina, so richly and so elegantly dressed, that they could not have been mistaken for other than princely children.
"But, mamma, is it not lovely? And shall we live here?" exclaimed the little girl.
"Yes, my child," said the princess, and kissed her on the forehead.
"Are there yet stags in the park," demanded the boy with a princely air from the respectful porter; "and can I have a gun here to shoot them?"
The mother smiled, and seemed half-embarrassed by the commanding tone which her young son assumed.
"There are the park-grounds belonging to the garden," said the revenue-warden of the district, who had come to the castle to receive the princess, "and beyond lies the deer-park; the keeper who lives there will be able to assist the young prince in the shooting of game."
"That must be an arrogant young fellow," thought Fritz; yet he felt, as it were, attracted to him as he saw the handsome, frank countenance of the young Hugo, as, with his hand in his mother's, he entered the castle.
It was late before Mrs. Walter, who had been in attendance on the princely guests in the suite of rooms prepared for their reception, returned to her own parlour.
"The gracious lady," said she, in a business-like tone, "has only brought with her a single waiting-woman for herself and a maid for the children; there was everything to do, therefore, and I was needed to help."
"No ladies of the court, and no servants?" asked Mina, astonished.
"What sort of a princess is she, then, Mrs. Dote?" asked Fritz, who had been studying in the calendar the geneology of the princely house. "She is not, after all, then, the wife of the reigning prince; and there is no wife mentioned as belonging to the late prince."
"Well, children," said Mrs. Walter, after a moment's silent consideration, "you have sense enough for me to explain to you exactly how it is with the princess. She is really the wife of the crown-prince, now deceased, and is herself of a noble house, though not noble enough to please the old prince, and therefore he would never acknowledge the marriage. His son, however, always believed he would do so. He thought his papa would yield his prejudices, because the lady was so lovely and a very angel for goodness. But it was not, and never will be right, when children go counter to the will of their parents, and when young people think they know what is best;—you remember that as long as you live! However, they were married whilst the old prince was on a long journey abroad; when he returned, therefore, he was dreadfully angry, and would not acknowledge the marriage. The noble young crown-prince would not leave his wife; so, for the sake of peace and quietness, they lived abroad, where he died of nervous fever two years ago, without being reconciled with his father, from which misfortune our Lord preserve all young people! The princess returned to this country and lived very retired, and I have heard that the old prince would not even hear the children spoken of. However, as this old castle is now appointed for their residence, I think it a good sign."
That which Mrs. Walter thus related made the princess very interesting to the children.
"Do you know, Mina," said Fritz to his sister that same evening, "I shall never be envious of anybody in this world again."
"Were you envious, then?" asked she.
"Well, it was in this way," returned he. "When I saw those handsome children, in their beautiful dresses, bounding up the castle-steps, I thought to myself, 'They are quite at home now, where we dare only take a little peep; they have everything so nice, yet I don't know that they are any better than we.'"
"Did you really think so!" said Mina amazed.
"Now, however, I think," returned he, "how well off we are. Father and mother are happy together, grand-parents, and everybody love one another, but those poor things have lost their father, and they dare not see their grandfather."
"Perhaps it will all come right," said Mina consolingly "I should like to see that lovely princess again."
"But she must be only addressed as—most gracious lady," said Mrs. Dote.
Spite of his views of freedom and equality, Fritz walked somewhat more timidly with Mina in the garden the following day.
"You may go without any fear," Mrs. Dote had said encouragingly; "only you must keep rather in the side walks than in the broad alleys. You can go and gather me a beautiful nosegay and fresh green for the little hall where the family will dine. And if you should meet the young grandees and they should speak, you must answer prettily and politely; only mind, don't you speak first."
"He is, however, nothing but a boy, like me, only somewhat younger," Fritz was again ready to reply, but he checked himself and remained silent.
They had not been long in the garden before they saw the two handsome children coming hand in hand down the broad alley.
"Oh, how charming it is!" exclaimed the little girl, delighted. "I never saw anything so charming!"
"And is it not charming," said the boy, "that your governess is still poorly, and that my tutor is gone a journey, and so we have a holiday?"
At this moment they saw Fritz and Mina, who stepped somewhat embarrassed aside.
"Do you live in the garden?" inquired the little girl.
"No, young gentry," returned Mina, to whom no other title suggested itself, and she curtseyed.
"My name is Meta," said the little girl with frank simplicity; "and his name is Hugo," added she, pointing to her brother, "but where, then, do you live?"
"At Steinheim, fifteen miles from here," said Fritz, in his straightforward manner, and perfectly self-possessed. "We are now on a visit to my godmother, Mrs. Dote, the castle housekeeper, during our holidays."
"Indeed! we also have holiday," said Hugo. "Do you know of any bird nests? I have never seen a bird's nest."
"I know of one," returned Fritz, somewhat hesitatingly, "but——"
"Well, where is it?" inquired Hugo, with a little impetuosity.
I'll show it you, but—you must promise——
"What must I promise?" interrupted the young prince, reddening with anger and impatience.
"That you will only look at it, and not touch it, even with your little finger," returned Fritz, now speaking firmly, "else the old birds will never come back again, and the young ones will die."
"Yes, I know that," said the fair-haired Meta. "Mamma once told me that the young birds would die if the old ones did not attend to them," and she looked very sorrowful; "but you will not touch it, will you, Hugo?"
"Upon my honour. I will not!" declared the young cavalier so earnestly that Fritz was ready to venture, and led him to a low fir-tree which stood in some thick plantations, where lay between the boughs a little nest, in which were five lovely greenish-speckled eggs. He lifted up Meta, so that she could peep in, and both children were delighted at the sight.
"But the next time we must not come so near," said Fritz, "the little hen-bird is sitting; but we may come every day and see it from a distance, till the young birds are hatched."
In this joyful hope the four children became good friends, although Hugo had a something of princely pride in his bearing which did not quite harmonize with the liberal turn of Fritz's mind. The boys rambled together from the garden into the deer-park, visited the old keeper who lived there, and learned to shoot under his instructions; nay, they even one day brought home a hare which had been shot, though it could not exactly be ascertained by whom. Still more delightful was the entertainment which the two girls found together. Meta had a very wonderful doll, beautiful beyond anything which Mina had conceived possible. It had a lovely waxen face, and could shut its eyes; it slept upon a cushion trimmed with lace, and had a little bassinet lined with blue silk; it wore the daintiest little cap and a little knitted jacket. Mina, it is true, had quite grown out of dolls, and at home only brought out hers, which had a shining face of papier-maché, and wore a plain pink cotton frock, when her little friend Matilda came to see her; but she would not have been a girl if she had not been delighted with this miracle of a baby. It had, however, no name, and Mina assisted in the choice of one, which, after long deliberation, it was decided should be Rosalinde, because it was so beautiful. Meta was regarded as the mother of the little Rosalinde, and Mina acted as nurse-maid, but was called the Bonne, and she fondled, and carried, and rocked, and fed the darling baby to her heart's delight. The little Rosalinde was a very quick-growing child, however, and already on the second day wore her short frocks, and on the fourth a little dress and socks of Mina's making from some splendid material which Mrs. Dote produced from her wonderful old stores, and which had, once upon a time, been a part of a grand court dress. Now and then, however, again the little one became a baby, and was laid upon its cushion, and as such carried about. Many lovely little nooks, too, there were in the garden, on the green sward, and amongst the bushes, which were exactly suitable for nurseries; then, too, Meta took many great journeys with her little daughter through the gardens, Mina, in the meantime, decorating the green nursery with flowers, and setting out a pretty little feast of summer fruit in little baskets which she wove of rushes; whilst Meta, on her return, brought, from her mother, in fact, a pretty ribbon or a nice little bag as a present to her faithful Bonne.
Lightly and softly, as a sunbeam, the Princess Clotilde glided in her grey silk dresses here and there through the garden, appearing to the country children almost like a being from some higher world. She had kept a much stricter supervision over them than they had any idea of, in order that she might ascertain whether they were fitting companions for her children. Her children had hitherto lived in such deep retirement and seclusion, that now, finding these young strangers so admirable in every respect, she rejoiced that her children should become acquainted through them with other relationships and other classes in life, and happy in the thought that they could thus thoroughly enjoy their golden freedom before the return of the governess and tutor. The castle housekeeper, Mrs. Dote, was therefore on the very pinnacle of bliss because of the honour which was done to her young guests.
Mrs. Dote had already twice obtained a prolongation of the holiday term, but now the father wrote that it could be no further extended; it was high time, he said, for Fritz to recommence his studies. Mina, also, was not only required in the school, but was indispensable to her mother. Therefore a definite day was fixed by him for their return home.
The children, who knew perfectly well that such a time of festal enjoyment could not last for ever, prepared themselves without opposition for their departure. And then, what a great deal they would have to tell at home; how their father and mother would be astonished, and the clergyman's Carl, and the bailiff's Matilda! And then, it sounded so very nice in the diary which Fritz had kept, "I and the prince."
Meta and Hugo were almost more cast down about the parting than their friends, and the tutor and the governess seemed to them anything but a compensation for the loss of such pleasant companions.
On the day before they left, Hugo wished to perform an especial deed of heroism. The old keeper had betrayed to him that in a cleft of a tolerably lofty rock in the deer-park a screech-owl had built a nest.
"Oh, a living owl!" exclaimed Hugo; "we must have him!"
"Don't you trouble yourself about that, noble sir," said the keeper; "besides, it is more dangerous than it seems; the rock is steep and crumbly, and just below is a stony hollow, where, in ancient times, they got stone. Wait, sir, till I've got rid of the rheumatism in my feet, and then I myself will try to catch the creature for you. You must not run such a risk."
"Listen, Fritz," said Hugo to him after this conversation, "we'll get the beast ourselves, spite of everything!"
"No," returned Fritz thoughtfully, "we'd better not; think how distressed your mother would be if anything happened to you, and my godmother would be shockingly angry with me if I should let you go."
"I don't care for your godmother, not I!" exclaimed Hugo in a tone of defiance, for he could very ill brook contradiction, and without another word he walked down towards the castle.
Early the next morning, Hugo stole away quietly by himself towards the cliff in the park; he did not find it very difficult to clamber up so as to bring himself near to the cleft in the rock, which contained the coveted nest; when, all at once, away went a piece of rock from under his foot; he held himself fast, however, by a small bush, but there he hung, like the Emperor Maximilian of old, on the Martinswand, below him the deep stony hollow, and feeling it impossible to advance a single step forward. There was an end now of all his defiant courage and princely pride, and he uttered a loud piercing cry for help; but, ah! he then remembered with horror that the old keeper, the only person who lived near, was a most totally deaf.
The next moment the cry of "Hugo!" sounded from the wood.
"Fritz, Fritz!" shouted he, overjoyed; "make haste, Fritz, and help me!"
And Fritz, who had been for some time seeking for the prince in vain, rushed forth out of the wood, and though he was naturally of a deliberative character, and one which did not inconsiderately rush into danger, yet he now climbed up, and with all that courage and agility which a sudden sense of danger often gives birth to, seized hold of Hugo, and half-scrambling and half-tumbling, down they both came to the ground, with torn hands and trousers, yet holding still firmly together.
Hugo, whose haughty bravery was considerably damped by the terror he had felt, and the danger he had been exposed to, lay half-fainting on the ground and gazed with emotion at Fritz, who, well pleased with the result of his intervention, yet seemed to regard it as nothing very remarkable.
"Fritz," said he at length, "I should not much like to tell my mother, because she is often so sorrowful, and she will weep so bitterly over a misfortune which might have happened, just as if it had happened; but I shall not forget you!" and with a princely bearing he drew a beautiful ring, in which was set a red stone, from his finger, saying, "There, take this ring from me, it belonged to my father; and if you show me again this ring, whether it be soon or in years to come, it will remind me how you have helped me to-day."
Fritz, who, as I said, did not regard the affair as one of such grave importance, nevertheless was delighted with the gift, until an idea suddenly occurring to him, he said, "But if your mother should make inquiries after the ring?"
"Then I will tell her what you have done for me," replied Hugo, who had now recovered his self-possession, "and she will say it was right."
The gentle, warm-hearted Meta took a tearful leave of Mina; she wished very much to give her, as a parting present, her beloved Rosalinde, but Mina would, on no account, allow of so great a sacrifice, and the Princess Clotilde gave her instead a pretty silk apron and a beautiful book. Fritz also received presents of books and handsome writing-apparatus from Hugo. Mrs. Dote, who had conceived a cordial affection for the children, did not know how to give them enough for themselves and as presents to carry home to their parents. She was, however, raised to the very summit of felicity, when the princess ordered the carriage to be got ready, in order that her children might accompany their young friends at least half-way home. Fritz and Mina had not the slightest objection to be driven back in so stately and agreeable a manner, in a comfortable carriage, along the very road which they had traversed thither so timidly and humbly with their knapsack and basket.
Of course, these glories also came to an end, although the kind coachman drove much farther than the half-way, so that they could now see the hospitable farm-house in the fields below them. Then came the leave-taking, which, as a rule with children, consists of not many words. Hugo pressed significantly the hand upon which Fritz wore the ring, and Meta kissed Mina with tears in her eyes. The princely children drove back to the castle, and the schoolmaster's children went on foot to their modest home, but warm hearts and kind greetings they knew awaited them there, and they walked forward with cheerful steps, without lamenting over the glories which were departed.
Cassell & Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage Works, London, E. C. 50,288.