But it was worse for the poor Herr Lieutenant next morning, when David entered the room. David was never handsome,--nobody could say that, not even his own mother, but he had not improved since the lieutenant first made his acquaintance. Then, when he got the money for him at the notary's, there was something quite friendly in his appearance; but now, when he wanted the money again, he looked so tough and sour, that the lieutenant, without thinking what he was doing, drew on his gloves before speaking to him.
Speak with him he must, however, though David's face seemed to him as if Moses and all the prophets were looking out from behind it; and when David said, "Take off your gloves, Herr Lieutenant, and write," he took off his gloves, and wrote across the note, and David's face became as friendly as at their first interview.
"Thank God!" said the Herr Lieutenant, "that is done with."
But a few days later a wagon drove into the yard, and in the wagon sat the notary Slusuhr, and Habermann shook his head, and said, "God preserve me, withhimtoo?"
And as the notary entered the room, the Herr Lieutenant said also, "God preserve me, him too?"
But he got on with him a little better than with David; the notary looked like a man of some cultivation, he always dressed well, and appeared outwardly like a gentleman, he understood also how to preserve such an appearance in his language,--that is to say, as long as he liked. This was the case at present; the lieutenant invited him to a seat on the sofa, and ordered coffee, and there followed what seemed a very friendly chat about the weather and the neighborhood and the bad conduct of people in general, for in the latter topic the Herr Notary was well posted, because he had cultivated the habit of looking around him, and never acquired that of looking within. "Yes," said he, telling about a merchant in Rahnstadt, "Just think, Herr von Rambow, how wicked men are! There, out of pure kindness,--that is, on account of the interest which I must pay, for I hadn't so much money lying idle, I had to borrow it myself,--I lent him the money, and helped him out of his difficulties, and he was so thankful,--and now--now that I want it again, must have it, he is rough, he threatens to complain of me for charging illegal interest."
Of course there was not a word of truth in this story, the notary only told it to frighten the Herr Lieutenant, and it answered the purpose. In order to turn the conversation, he asked what sort of business the merchant was engaged in.
But the notary was not to be diverted; he did not answer the question, but went on with his story.
"But I have entered a complaint against him, and now let him look out! His credit is good for nothing,--and then the disgrace! It is not exactly entered yet, to be sure, but I have written it myself. What do you say to that?" The poor lieutenant was terribly distressed, the prospect looked as dark as if this was but the few drops before a heavy storm. He coughed, and cleared his throat, but said nothing, for he could think of nothing to say. It made no difference to the notary, he went on:
"But, thank God! I don't often have to deal with such idiots, this fellow is an exception. And since we are talking of money business,"--here he drew out his pocket-book,--"will you allow me to give you back your note?"
He held out the note for eight hundred and thirty dollars, and the rat-like ears seemed to erect themselves, and the grey eyes to protrude from the grayish yellow face, and the dry lips to moisten, like a rat when he smells bacon. The poor lieutenant took the note, and attempted to put aside the matter with a semblance of indifference.
Yes, he said, he would send him the money; he had started so suddenly, and the occasion of his journey had been so sad, that he had not thought of the matter.
Yes, replied the notary, he believed him, he knew how it was when his own father died; at such a time, a man thinks of nothing but his loss,--and he put on such a melancholy face, that the lieutenant took fresh courage,--but, said the notary, he had thought a great deal of this note lately, he depended on it, for he was under engagements, and to meet them,--he must have money.
"But this is such a trifling matter," interrupted Axel.
"Well, yes," said the notary, taking other papers from his pocket-book; "but then these little matters too!" and he laid on the table the notes for over two thousand dollars, which David had bought up at the lieutenant's garrison town.
The lieutenant was startled out of his show of indifference.
"How did you come by these papers?" he exclaimed.
"Herr von Rambow, I believe the name 'exchange' is applied to such bills because they are transferable by their possessors; you cannot be surprised that I should take them instead of cash payment, all the more since I was saved a good deal of writing and postage money."
The lieutenant became more and more perplexed, but the idea that all this was a concerted game did not yet occur to him.
"But, my dear Herr Notary, I have for the moment no money on hand."
"No?" cried the notary, shrugging his shoulders with an expression which let one look straight into the black depths of his soul, and revealed the compact that he had made with the devil. "No?" he repeated; "I don't believe it." And, in spite of all the lieutenant's assurances the notary stood before him, hard and cold, saying insolently, to his face, that he did not believe him; it was only that hewouldnot pay. Finally, the good old means of prolongation came upon the carpet, to which Axel would gladly have agreed at the first, if it had been proposed to him; but that would not have suited the notary. He wanted more commission than David, and he meant to take his satisfaction in the business, for he was a man who enjoyed a joke, and the best of all jokes to him was when he could say to himself, "No one can match you in craftiness; you set your foot on the necks of high and low, and it is good sport to watch their struggles."
These were the troubles and distresses in which Axel von Rambow sat, up to the neck, and they distracted him from his grief about his father. From a deep sorrow, of God's sending, a soul works itself out fresh and pure, like a man over whom the waves of the sea have rolled; he may have had a hard struggle, but when he comes forth he stands on the beach clean and cool, and ready for new work. But he who has fallen into trouble through his own temerity, is like one who, having fallen into a slough, is covered with filth, and is ashamed to meet the eyes of others. So it was with the young Herr, he was ashamed that he had lived so thoughtlessly, he was ashamed of having involved himself with black and with white Jews, he was ashamed that he could not help himself out of the slough, and that the help which others had given could only sink him deeper. How easily he might have escaped all this, if he had but confided in Habermann! How gladly he would assist him even now, since the reason was gone that had hindered him before, the Kammerrath! But the human heart is a stubborn and also a perverse thing, and this perverse thing believes it will find more rest if miles lie between it and its disgrace; so Axel left his estate much sooner than his sisters had hoped.
At his garrison he found everything as he had left it, only he himself was changed; at least he said so to himself, daily; but if one had asked his comrades they would have said they observed nothing peculiar about him, and quite naturally, for his good resolutions, which were the only respect in which he had altered, had not yet come to light. He meant to be economical, he meant to follow his father's advice, and study agriculture as well as he could from books, he meant to do well in all respects. His economy began the first morning; for a week he drank no sugar in his coffee,--"For," said he, "if a man despises little things, he will not prosper in great ones,"--and he smoked cigars at nineteen instead of twenty dollars the box. His servant got a serious lecture, when he brought the bread and butter for his breakfast, and received orders to give his two horses each half a measure of oats less than usual, "For," he said, "times are hard."
The latter was the only enduring retrenchment--probably because he was not fed at the same crib with his mares; all the others stopped after a week or so; it was of no use, he said, to begin things that one couldn't carry through. It was much in the same way with his agricultural studies. The first three pages of every book, he knew almost by heart, he had read them so often; for he always began at the beginning, because, when he had got so far, some thing would divert his attention from the text. Then, as he felt so sure of these, he would reward himself for his industry by looking up something interesting in the books, and as he read a chapter on the breeding of horses, he would say to himself he knew all that, and more too; there had been great progress in those matters. After all, what good would it do for him to read these books, if he could not take hold of the business practically? he knew very well a farmer should be practical,--nothing if not practical! So he made the acquaintance of a Herr von So-and-So, who owned an estate in the neighborhood; he rode with him over the fields, and asked the inspector what he was doing that day, and when they returned to the house, he knew as well as the Herr von So-and-So that in Seelsdorp on the 15th of June, they were carting manure, and that his gray Wallach was foaled in Basedow from the gray Momus; or he went with Herr von So and So, with a gun over his shoulder, through the barley stubble, and got the information by the way that the barley had been harvested on the 27th of August, shot a brace of partridges, and when he went to bed at night he knew as well as Herr von So and So how the partridges tasted.
He found this sort of practical apiculture very agreeable, and as a man is apt to talk about the things that please him, Axel did not fail to exhibit his attainments, and was soon known among his comrades as a shining light, quite an agricultural tallow candle, four to the pound. Since most of them were the sons of noble landed proprietors, and destined to the same life, and looking forward with horror to the time when they must leave their jolly soldier-life, for the hard work of gentlemen farmers, Axel seemed to them an unusual example of diligence, and they looked upon him as upon some wonderful animal who out of pure love for labor had put his head into the yoke. Most of them admired him accordingly, though a few blockheads turned up their noses, and insinuated that for a lieutenant his conversation savored too strongly of the farm-yard.
Having set himself up as an authority in agricultural matters, it was necessary to sustain his reputation, and to make progress with time. And that was a period of wonderful progress in agricultural science, for Professor Liebig had written a famous book for the farmers, which was brimful and running over of carbon and saltpetre, and sulphur, and gypsum, and lime, and sal-ammoniac, and hydrates and hydropathy, enough to drive one crazy. People who wished to dip their fingers in science procured this book, and sat down to it, and read and read, until their heads were dizzy; and if they tried to recollect, they could not tell whether gypsum were a stimulant or a nutriment,--that is to say, for clover, not for human beings.
Axel bought this book, and it fared with him as with the rest, he read and read, but kept growing dizzier, and his head turned round as if there were screws getting loose in it, and he shut the book. It would probably have stopped here, with him, as with the others, he would have forgotten the whole concern, if he had not had the fortune to know a good-natured apothecary, who could let him take all the drugs, of which the book treated, into his own hands, and smell them with his own nose. This was the practical way, and from that moment he understood the business, yes, as well as Liebig himself, so that he had no occasion to read farther in the book.
The branch of agriculture which gave him particular pleasure was farming-implements and machinery. He had from a child taken great delight in all sorts of inventions; as a boy he had made little mills, he had pasted, and, although his mother had a great dislike to anything that smacked of handicraft, he had, during his school-days, taken private lessons in book-binding. These tastes came into exercise now; he was uncommonly pleased to see a design of a new-fashioned American rake, or a Scotch harrow, and it was not long before he indulged in the innocent amusement of cutting little rakes and harrows and rollers himself.
He did not stop here, however, but went on to design rape-clappers, flax-bruisers, and corn-shellers. He might possibly have rested in these achievements,--and it was surely worthy of honor in a lieutenant to lay aside his uniform and go to work with drawing-knife, auger and glue-pot,--if he had not made the acquaintance of an old half-crazy watchmaker, who had wasted his life and his small property in endeavoring to discover, for an ungrateful world, the secret of perpetual motion. This old benefactor of humanity led him into his workshop, and showed him how one wheel must be made to turn upon another, and this upon a cylinder, and that upon a screw, and the screw upon a winch, and that upon a wheel again, and so on, over and over; he showed him machines that wouldn't go, and others that would go, and yet others which wouldn't go as they should; he exhibited machines which Axel could comprehend, and some which he couldn't comprehend, and some which he didn't comprehend himself; but it was all very interesting to Axel, and he became inspired in his turn with the desire of being a benefactor to mankind. His idea was to invent a machine, which would do all sorts of field labor, which should rake, harrow, roll, and pull up weeds. It was really touching to see the fresh, young lieutenant of cavalry and the withered, wrinkled old watchmaker, sitting together and planning with the lever and screws to elevate mankind.
And so it might have gone on, for all me, and for all him, and he might possibly have elevated mankind, though the constant tugging of securities and discounts and such matters had a tendency to bring him down, for he thought nothing about the payment of his debts, and although there was a good income from Pumpelhagen, according to his father's will it was I to be applied first to the payment of his own debts, and the sisters must be supported out of it; and, as for the rest, he lived without anxiety when his first needs were supplied.
But there are a pair--brother and sister--who shake the most indifferent person out of his dreams, and drive him, without, ceremony, out from the warm chimney-corner, into the storm and rain,--these are hate and love. Hate thrusts one head-foremost out of the door, saying, "There, scoundrel, away with you!" Love takes one gently by the hand, leads one to the door, and says, "Come, with me, I will show you a better place." But it comes to the same thing; one must leave his nice, warm chimney-corner. Axel made the acquaintance of both; and it happened quite accidentally, it was none of his doing.
I don't know whether it is so still; but at that time it was the custom, among the Prussians, for the regimental commanders to send regular deportment lists of the officers to Berlin, and King Frederic William was in the habit of looking into the papers himself, in order to see what his officers were fit for.
Now Axel's good old colonel liked the Herr Lieutenant very much, because he had once owned an estate himself, alongside Bütow and Lauenburg, which he had got rid of through his singular methods of farming; and because he still owned one, on which he could carry out these methods, one of them being never to enrich the soil, because he thought it not good for the land. He had a great opinion of his own methods, and as he was like the old carrier who, when they can no longer drive, still like to crack the whip, he enjoyed talking about them, and as Axel listened attentively, and was too polite to contradict him, the old colonel conceived a high opinion of his wisdom. For this reason Axel's testimonials were always very good; but unfortunately the old Colonel paid little attention to orthography, and so he wrote once, "Lieutenant von Rambow is a thoroughly 'feiger' officer," when he meant to say "fähiger" (capable). The king himself saw it, and wrote on the margin, "I have no occasion for a 'feiger' (cowardly) officer; let him be dismissed at once." It was a stupid thing in the old colonel; the mistake must be corrected; but he did not know how to do it without taking his adjutant into counsel. With his assistance, the orthography and the business were made right; but the rogue could not hold his tongue, and before long the whole set were aiming their poor jokes at our innocent Axel. Especially one thick-headed fellow, of "very old family," who had all along poked fun at him on account of his agricultural pursuits, not because he managed them foolishly, but because he took to them at all,--now applied the screw so insolently that all his comrades observed it; Axel alone took no notice, because he had not the slightest suspicion of the cause.
There was another matter, in addition. The Herr von So and So, with whom Axel took practical lessons in farming on horseback and with a shot-gun, had a wonderfully pretty daughter,--nobody need laugh! she was really a fine girl,--by whom the Herr Lieutenant of the "old family" was strongly attracted. She, however, treated him quite coolly, and was much more gracious to Axel, who also turned his best side out in her presence. Whether it was that the young lady took no pleasure in the stupidly forward behavior of the Herr Lieutenant of "old family," and if she were going to marry preferred a man gifted with more brains, or that she was pleased with Axel's good-temper and modesty, it was not long before Axel was evidently "cock of the walk," and the Herr Lieutenant of "old family," sat upon the nettles of jealousy.
It happened, about this time, that the officers of the corps gave a ball, and the Herr Lieutenant of "old family" adorned himself for this festivity with a pair of false calves. Looking at his legs, his own comrades scarcely knew him, and as there is always a mischief-maker among so many frolicsome young people, who in this case happened to be the adjutant, he converted the cotton-wool calves of Axel's rival into a pincushion, and stuck them full of butterflies, with which the unconscious lieutenant hopped about quite merrily. People could not help looking and laughing, and the Herr Lieutenant, discovering how his calves were ornamented, became fearfully angry, as he had reason to be, and his wrath broke loose upon the first laughing face he chanced to meet, which happened to be Axel's. "If you were not already designated upon the colonel's conduct list, I should have the satisfaction of applying the epithet myself!" exclaimed he, in his rage. Axel did not hear the words distinctly, the insolent tone, however, was not to be misunderstood; and as he was really no poltroon, and very easily excited, he turned with equal anger to his rival, saying that "he did not understand what he said, but the tone he had used made an explanation necessary;" and with that he went to his captain, with whom he stood on good terms, and asked an account of the matter, and what he heard from him did not tend to diminish his anger. He fell into a terrible passion, and challenged the lieutenant of "old family," and also the adjutant, because he had brought the matter about, and the lieutenant challenged the adjutant, an account of the butterflies, and so the three rode out one fine Sunday afternoon, with a crowd of seconds and witnesses and impartial observers and doctors and surgeons, and they cut each other's faces, and shot at each other's limbs, and then there was peace again. Axel got a scar on his nose, because he was stupid enough to parry a thrust with his face instead of his sword. If this did not exactly beautify him, it certainly did him no harm. Herr von So and So's pretty daughter heard of the matter, she put together many little pleasantries which she had noted between the rivals, and who can blame this intelligent girl if she believed herself the innocent cause of such heroic deeds, and liked Axel afterward better than before?
Here I might relate the entire love-story of Axel and Frida, and I leave it to any unprejudiced person if I should not have a pair of characters for a love-story, such as cannot be found even in the Bible, a lieutenant of cuirassiers, and a young lady of the nobility; but no, I will have nothing to do with it. For, in the first place, I never do more than I am obliged, and who can compel me to give private instructions to the burghers' daughters, who may possibly read this, about falling in love with a lieutenant of cuirassiers, or to teach young mechanics how they may ingratiate themselves with noble young ladies? Who would give me anything for that? And, secondly, I may as well say, once for all, I do not write with any regard to young people, I write merely for the old folks, who lie down of an afternoon on the sofa, and take a book to drive the flies from their faces, and the cares out of their heads. Thirdly, I have already three young maidens to dispose of, and any one who wants to know what a task that is may inquire of any mother of three unmarried daughters. Louise Habermann must have a husband, and would it not be a shame to leave the two little twin-apples to trundle through the world as old maids? Fourthly and lastly, I am not fitted to describe correctly the love of a lieutenant of cuirassiers, it is a touch beyond me, it requires the pen of a Shakespeare or a Mühlbach, and who knows whether Shakespeare himself were adequate to the task, for so far as I am informed he never ventured upon it.
In short, they were betrothed, and the wedding was held at Whitsuntide, 1843, and the Herr von So and So gave his blessing as a dowry, because it was all he had to give. Well, we will treat him like a Christian, and give him something, to wit a name,--for since he is become our father-in-law he must have a name,--so he shall be called Herr von Satrup of Seelsdorp, of which estate he owned still less than Axel of Pumpelhagen.
Frida von Satrup was an intelligent girl, and understood before her marriage that a "Herr Lieutenant" was only a large piece of a small apple, and that a "Frau Lieutenant" would be a small piece of a large apple; she stipulated, therefore, that Axel should leave the army. Axel was not unwilling, for the foolery about the "feiger" officer was not by any means over, although he bore the mark of the old colonel's blunder in red ink on his face, and he had also a great desire and purpose to turn his agricultural science into ready money, at Pumpelhagen, and therewith to pay his debts.
He took his discharge, therefore, packed his uniform, sash and epaulettes in a box, delivered, with tears in his eyes, a touching farewell address to his brave sword, laid that also in the box, nailed and sealed the box, and wrote on the top, "In case of sudden death, to be opened by my heirs," sent the whole to Pumpelhagen, was married in a black dress-suit, and started with his young bride for a journey up the Rhine.
How he made his entrance into Pumpelhagen, in the midsummer of 1843, shall be told in another place.
The three years which, since his father's death, Axel had spent in garrison, occupied with agriculture, heroic deeds and love-affairs, had been passed by the dwellers in Pumpelhagen and the vicinity in much the same occupations. The agriculture was a matter of course; but the heroic deeds and the love affairs would have been wanting, if Fritz Triddelsitz, in his hours of leisure, had not turned his attention that way. His relations with Marie Möller had slipped gradually out of the motherly into the brother-and-sisterly, and from thence, on her part at least, into the tenderly affectionate, and although they were still based on a foundation of ham and sausage, Marie Möller indulged in all sorts of uncertain heavenly hopes touching priest and sexton, bridal wreath, and farming and house keeping for herself, if in process of time the business should take a serious turn, while Fritz lived in fear of being discovered by Habermann at some of these private repasts, and suspected that, if his aunt and is father and mother knew of his foolish behavior, the business might take a disagreeable turn for himself. In short, his love-affairs were not altogether satisfactory, and though he thought no harm of throwing his hook here and there, for example, to the little twin-apples, and, when his aunt was off duty, to Louise Habermann, yet he was forced to confess, when he dealt honestly with himself, that his only success was with Marie Möller.
The heroic deeds of Pumpelhagen were also confined to his department. He had at first attempted them merely against the farm-boys, and that in a quiet way, for if Habermann had known of it, the renown which he achieved upon their shoulders would have been sadly interfered with; now, however, as all went well, he grew bolder, and in an evil hour ventured to strike a stable-boy, and the rascal was so insolent as to forget all the respect due to his station, and gave him such a thrashing, in broad day-light, and Palm Sunday at that, that Marie Möller must spend the whole Sunday afternoon cooling his shoulder-blades. And the most disagreeable of all was that with every cold bandage that Marie Möller laid on his shoulders she sent a sting to his conscience, while she reminded him of all her kind deeds, and inquired about his plans and prospects, trustfully assuring him that she believed in his affection and would faithfully share his future. It was very annoying, because, for his part, he believed more in his appetite for ham and sausage than in his affection, and he preferred keeping his prospects to himself. He stammered out something which she did not or would not fully comprehend, and the cooler his blisters became the cooler became their relations; he tried to change the subject, she was not disposed to do so; she still applied the wet cloths, but with a less and less gentle hand.
"Triddelsitz," said she finally, "what am I to think of you?"
With that, she came round from her position behind him, and placed herself before his face, with arms akimbo.
"Mariken," said he, alarmed and confused, "what do you mean?"
"What do I mean? shall I, speak out more clearly?" exclaimed she, and the sweet, tender expression was quite gone from her eyes. "Am I a person to be made a fool of?"
Then she went back again, and slapped a cold bandage on his shoulders, with emphasis.
"Oh! Thunder!" cried Fritz, "that hurts!"
"So? It hurts, does it? Do you think it doesn't hurt me, to find that a man for whom I have done so much means to betray me?"
"Mariken, I ask you, what do you mean?"
"What do I mean? I mean"--with another emphatic bandage--"will you tell me what to think of you?"
"Thunder and lightning! That burns like fire!"
"I hope it does! I should think your conscience would burn you, deceiving a poor girl with all sorts of promises and prospects and then backing out in this way!"
"Good heavens, Marie, I am only nineteen years old."
"Well, what then?"
"I must serve somewhere else for a time, and then----"
"Well, and then?" with another wet cloth on his shoulders.
"Good heavens! You might be a little more careful, Marie."
"Youmight be a little more careful! Well, what then?"
"Then, I must get me a farm; and all that will take ten years or more."
"Well, and then?" pursued Marie Möller, with truly infamous persistency.
"And then," stammered Fritz finally, in his distress, "by that time, you will be too old for me."
Marie Möller stood at first as if thunder-struck; poisonous glances shot from her eyes; then she bent round and threw the cloth that was in her hand right in his face, so that the water spattered over his ears.
"Too old? Impertinence! Too old, do you say?" and grasping the washbowl full of water she threw it over his head, and ran out of the room. And as Fritz stood there, gasping and snuffling, she opened the door again, and putting her head in, said,--
"Don't let me see you in my pantry again!"
Love had now received its death-blow; there was an end also of the pantry indulgences; and as Fritz stood there dripping, it seemed to him, among his confused thoughts, that the whole story did not exactly harmonize with his ideas of love, still less with the romances he had read, and he uttered in his vexation the selfsame words he had spoken at the beginning of his apprenticeship, when he was working on the road in the November rain: "It is quite different from what I thought! A good, thing, though, that the old man is not at home," added he, "or he might have heard the uproar."
Habermann had gone with Franz this morning to the Gurlitz church. He always took this walk, with still, pious thoughts, but to-day his heart was brimful of thankfulness to God, whose fatherly hand had led his child so far on her life journey, for, on this Palm Sunday morning, Louise was to be confirmed. He walked, silent and absorbed in thought, along the foot-path, his eye resting on the pleasant landscape, where the snow still lay in white streaks along side the ditches and under the shade of the dark fir-trees, and where the green, springing rye in the bright sunshine told of Easter, and preached the Resurrection. The chimney-smoke lay over the little villages, and the sun seemed to press it down, as though this token of human care and labor ought not to darken the bright world, as if there would not be room enough else for the joyous sound of the church bells, which echoed, far and wide, over field and forest.
"Ah, if she had only lived to see this day!" said the old man aloud, and as if he thought himself alone.
"Who?" asked Franz, a little shyly, as if he feared to be too inquisitive.
"My poor wife, the mother of my dear child," said the old man, softly, and looked at the young man with such friendly, honest eyes, that seemed to say, "Look into our depths and read this simple, true heart! We will answer all thy questions, and it shall echo long in thy memory." "Yes," said he, "my good wife! But what do I say? She sees more, to-day, than I can of her child, and she does more than I can for her child; for her thoughts are higher than the blue heavens, and her joys brighter than the golden sun."
Franz walked silent by his side, he was careful not to disturb the Inspector; this old man, whom he loved, to-day seemed to him so worthy of reverence,--his white hair lay across his broad forehead, as pure as the white snow on the earth, his fresh countenance and bright eyes spoke as trustfully of the resurrection as did the springing rye, and the whole face shone with such a sunlight of love, that the young man, after a while, could no longer restrain himself, he grasped his friend's hand:
"Habermann, my dear Habermann, you have certainly lived through much sorrow."
"Not more than other people," was the reply, "and yet enough to think of, all one's life."
"Will you tell me about it? I do not ask from curiosity."
"Why not?" and he told his story; but he did not mention Pomuchelskopp's name, and he closed his narration with this remark about his child: "Yes, she was then my only comfort, and she is now my only joy!"
They came to the parsonage. The little Frau Pastorin had become a little older, and a little fuller, with time, and could not fly round quite so quickly as before; and to-day she was unusually quiet, running in nobody's way, and the duster lay unnoticed in its corner, as lonely as a dog under the table, for to-day the approaching solemn ceremony forbade her usual bustling about, for, as the Pastor's wife, she was the nearest.
But it was impossible for her to keep quite still, if she did not buzz about, she must at least run a little, now to fasten her Pastor's bands and bring him a glass of wine, now to Louise, to set her ruffle straight, and whisper a loving word in her ear; and when young Jochen and Frau Nüssler and the little twins and Bräsig all arrived together, she would certainly have forgotten herself, if the sexton had not exercised his judgment, and commenced ringing for the last time. The twins were also to be confirmed to-day, and as the company were going to the church, and the Frau Pastorin looked at the three lovely children walking together across the church-yard, Louise in the middle, half a head taller than her little cousins, she said to Habermann, while tears stood in her friendly eyes, "Habermann, our child has no gold chain and brooch to wear, as is the foolish custom now-a-days; and that black silk dress, dear Habermann, is all of thirty years old. I wore it last the first time I went to church here after I was married, and a happy heart beat under it, for in that heart dwelt my Pastor; it was too small for me afterwards, for, you see, I was already growing rather stout, but it is as good as new, and nobody would know that it was pieced down. And, Habermann, I put the money that you gave me for a dress into Louise's money-box. You won't take it ill of me? I was so glad to see my old dress in use again."
Just before the church door Bräsig pulled Habermann by the coat, and as he turned round he said, quite moved with emotion, "Karl, it is remarkable, it is really remarkable, such a confirmation! See, when I look at those three little girls walking along it reminds me of my own, and how I had got through the infamous sheep-keeping for my sainted father, and was going to begin farming. We went along just like the three little girls, Karl Brandt and Christian Guhl and I, to the church, only we didn't have black silk dresses on; no, Christian had a green, Karl a brown, and I a gray coat; and instead of the bouquets of flowers, that the little girls carry in their hands, we had little sprigs of green stuck in our buttonholes; and instead of walking three abreast we went one behind the other, like geese in the barley. Yes, it was just so."
After a hymn had been sung by the congregation, Pastor Behrens preached his sermon. He had grown older in his appearance, but his voice was strong, and his thoughts clear as ever, and a mild and gentle spirit breathed in every word. It is certain there is no profession in which age is less of a drawback than in the ministry, when the man who holds this office has discharged it faithfully. The people do not listen to his words merely, they look at his long, upright, honorable life, and he stands before them a living example of the truth which he utters. So it was with this Pastor.
Then came the examination. The young maidens laid aside their outside wrappings, Louise embraced, with tearful eyes, her father and her foster-mother, Frau Nüssler affectionately kissed her little twins, young Jochen tried to say something, but did not succeed, and the three children stepped out from the Pastor's seat, up to the altar. "I wonder if the rogues know their lessons," said Bräsig to Franz, who was next him; "I believe my godchild--that is Mining--will stumble." And with that, he blew his nose, and wiped, not his eyes, but his eyebrows.
Franz did not answer; everything around him had disappeared for the time, he saw only one face, a familiar face, and yet he saw it as for the first time; he saw but one form, a form which he had seen springing joyously about, but now a wonderful, solemn thrill trembled through it; he saw a pair of hands which had been joyfully extended to him, now reached up to the Most High; and it seemed to him as if the Lord looked down, and upheld this trembling form, in the simple black dress, in which a happy heart had once throbbed, and showed him this pure virgin heart, and said, "Watch thine own, that it may be worthy to unite with this." He was like a man who had long ago seen a beautiful region, in bright sunshine, and who had rambled about therein, thinking of nothing but his own enjoyment, and coming again after a long time saw the same region under the silent moon, and could scarcely recognize it, because over hill and forest, over thatched roof and church-tower, lay the thick veil of the evening mist, upon which rested the silver moonlight, so that he saw only this, and not the pleasant region that he knew. It seemed to him as if his soul was stretching out imploring hands, from a deep abyss, and a profound self-pity came over him, because is own heart was so poor a gift to bestow. And this deep self-pity, this secret longing for a better heart, that falls upon us, like a moonbeam woven out of mist and light, we children of men call "Love."
Bräsig stood near him, and whispered now and then a couple of words, which Franz did not hear and which, if he had heard, he would probably have considered very stupid, and might have been annoyed by them; and yet the old Inspector's remarks had their origin in the same feeling which had come over himself, only that it was not so heavenly blue and rosy red as in his case, but old age had given it a tinge of gray.
Bräsig was in the greatest distress lest his godchild, Mining, should fail; and with every question that she answered properly, such a great sigh was heard that Pastor Behrens, if he had been of the new-fashioned style of preachers, must have thought he had brought a great sinner to repentance in sackcloth and ashes. "God be praised!" said this sinner, half aloud, "Mining knows it;" and after a while he touched Franz: "Now it is coming, just listen, now it is coming;" and he punched Habermann on the other side: "Karl, you will see Mining has got it. Mining has the great water-question. I knew it, Christian Guhl couldn't say it, and it came to me; but I have forgotten it all now, except just the beginning: 'Water indeed avails nothing of itself, but the Spirit of God'"--and as Mining repeated the answer, without faltering, the old man whispered after her the whole "water-question," and when the sexton came round with the poor-box, he put in a silver thaler, as if it were a relief to his feelings; and he turned round, and pressed Frau Nüssler's hand, and said almost aloud, "Frau Nüssler, did you hear our little rogue?" and blew his nose with so much emphasis, that Frau Pastorin secretly pronounced him an irreverent sinner, for disturbing the holy ordinance.
If one should follow up the cord which bound Bräsig to little Mining, and go a little way beyond Mining, he would find the end made fast, in Frau Nüssler's heart, where it was tied in a great double knot, which could never be parted. It seemed to be sure, quite another thing, and much rougher than the delicate, silken, rosy noose, which Franz would fain have knotted about Louise Habermann's little heart and which seemed to him too rough and hard for that tender heart. Love is everywhere, the world over, but she takes strange forms; she flies like an angel upon rosy pinions, and she shuffles about on wooden shoes; she speaks with tongues, like the apostles on the day of Pentecost, and she sits in the corner like a sulky child, whom the schoolmaster has struck on the mouth with the primer; she gives diamonds and coronets, and old Inspector Schecker sought to win the hand of my Aunt Schöning, with a fat turkey.
When the confirmation was over, and the Lord's Supper had been administered to the young communicants, Pastor Behrens went into his vestry. Samuel Pomuchelskopp, in his blue dress-coat, followed after him, for his Gustaving had also been confirmed, and opening the door of the vestry stood before it, instead of going in,--"so that all the people may see what a blockhead he is," said Bräsig to Habermann,--and invited the Pastor to "a spoonful of soup, and a morsel of roast meat, and a bottle of red wine," in as loud a tone, as if they were at a fair,--"that everybody may know what a confounded hypocrite he is," said Bräsig,--but the Pastor thanked him, and said he was too much fatigued to-day, and besides he had company at home.
Pomuchelskopp went back, and threw over his left shoulder a glance into the parsonage-pew, making most elaborate attempts at distinguished behavior, but they were quite discomfited as he met Bräsig's venomous face, for Bräsig was such a bad Christian--as the Frau Pastorin would have said had she seen it--that even in the Lord's own house he could not keep his wicked feelings from showing in his face. But how quickly was his old face changed when the three little girls came back, with happy tearful faces, to give him also their hands, and offer their lips to be kissed, as they had done to their parents and foster-parents! How he lifted his eyebrows, and wrinkled his forehead, giving himself a really paternal expression! This was his manner to Louise and Lining, but when his little pet Mining came, he looked as comical as if he were a child himself, he put his arms round her and whispered in her ear, "You shall see, Mining, you shall see, I will give you something!" And since he did not know what, at the moment, and chanced to have his handkerchief in his hand, he said, "I will give you a dozen handkerchiefs, bright ones!" for he wanted to do the business thoroughly.
Each of the company had now offered his kind wishes, and each had taken his thanks in kisses from the fresh, red lips, two only excepted,--young Jochen never got more than half a kiss, and Franz got none at all. Young Jochen could, of course, blame no one but himself, for he need not have squeezed himself into the farthest corner of the pew, so that the long left side of his mouth was quite out of their reach, and the little girls must content themselves with the short right side, which was not quite half of it. And Franz? He never thought of the matter, he had not yet returned to earth, but was still in heaven, and it did not occur to him, till they were leaving the church, and he found himself near Louise at the door, to take her hand and say something, which he could not recollect a moment after. He was certainly in love! That beautiful face in deep devotion was imprinted upon his heart and imprinted for ever-more!
I may be interrupted here, possibly, by some pious lady, or some experienced maiden,--I do not mean old people here, but also middle-aged,--who will inquire, "Could not this young man find some other place to concern himself with such worldly matters as falling in love?" And I reply, "Honored madame, and especially honored mademoiselle, this young man was as yet so stupid in a business with which you are quite familiar from early experience, that he had never thought of love as belonging to worldly matters. And pray, where should a young man fall in love? Only in an arbor, in the summer twilight, or in a cotillion at a ball in winter? Many roads lead to Rome, but many more to marriage, and he who starts on his bridal journey does better to begin it in a church than in a ball-room; for he finds the marriage altar close by, and the path is straight and clean; but between the ball-room and the altar stretches the long, dusty, dirty street, and many enter with soiled boots and shoes upon the holy path of marriage. Is it not true, honored madame? Do you not agree with me, respected mademoiselle?"
A simple dinner was waiting at the parsonage. Bräsig was very lively, and smiled like sunshine after rain; the old Pastor was also very cheerful, for he knew with Solomon that everything has its time, there is "a time to gather stones, and a time to cast them away;" but they were all quiet, the church bells still chimed in their hearts, and only with the hot coffee did Frau Pastorin and Frau Nüssler find their tongues unlocked.
Immediately after dinner, the old Herr Pastor took a little nap on the sofa in his study, to rest from the fatigue of the morning. Habermann had gone out into the fresh air, with his daughter and his two nieces, that the sweet influences of the secretly awakening spring might compose these young agitated souls, and Franz had gone with them, also to enjoy the secretly awakening spring, but the one which was budding and blooming in his own breast. Jochen Nüssler had found a corner, which was almost as convenient as his own particular corner, by the stove, at home. Bräsig went up and down the room, with his short legs and his long pipe, his feet turned out in an extraordinary manner, for since he had received his pension his gait had acquired a peculiar, swing, and he used his little feet broad side out, so that people might see that no man was his master, and he stood in his own shoes, and that his long years of farming had not prevented him from appearing what he was, an elderly gentleman, living on his own income. Frau Pastorin and Frau Nüssler sat under the picture gallery, upon the sofa.
"Yes, dear Frau Nüssler," said the Frau Pastorin, "thank God! we have got on so far with our children. Louise is seventeen years old, and your twins are six mouths older. My Pastor says, and I know it too, they have learned much; and with a little more help here and there, they could earn their bread as governesses, any day."
Bräsig stopped, lifted his eyebrows, and blew a cloud of smoke toward the sofa, and young Jochen also turned himself about, in that direction.
"Yes, indeed," exclaimed Frau Nüssler, "and the little girls owe it all to you and the Herr Pastor!" and she grasped the Frau Pastorin's hand, "my brother Karl said, and I say too, we could do well enough for them in some respects, we could get them their daily bread and see that they were neatly dressed, and teach them to tell the truth, and how to take care of themselves, and keep house; but for all which makes a human being of real worth, we were not capable. Isn't it so, Jochen?"
From behind the stove came a low, comfortable, assenting growl, such as a faithful old watch-dog gives, when he has his head scratched.
"You hear, Frau Pastorin, Jochen says so too."
"Oh, I have done nothing," said the little Frau Pastorin, turning off the compliment, "that is to say, for your two; of course it was different with Louise, for I was the nearest to her. But--what I was going to say,--we have never spoken about it,--had you thought of having your children, or one of them, perhaps Mining, become a governess?"
"What?" said Frau Nüssler, looking at the Frau Pastorin, as if she had told her Mining had a prospect of becoming a Papist; and as the Frau Pastorin was about to explain her project, she was interrupted by a singular burst of laughter: "Ha, ha, ha! A good joke! Did you hear that, young Jochen? Our little Mining to teach children! Ha, ha, ha!"
That was Bräsig; but he made a great mistake. The Frau Pastorin sat there, like a puppet on a wire, her red face grew pale with anger, and under her little chin the little cap-ribbons fluttered quite indignantly:
"What are you laughing at, Bräsig? You are laughing at me, perhaps? You laugh because I thought Mining might be a governess? Oh, Herr Inspector," and she drew herself up, stiffly, "I have been a governess myself, and it is quite a different thing to teach children, from what it is to cudgel farm-boys."
"To be sure! You mustn't mind me, Frau Pastorin, but our little Mining a school-mistress! Ha, ha, ha!"
But the Frau Pastorin was carried away by her feelings, and went on to say: "And it makes a great difference whether one has learned something, or whether one knows nothing at all; a man like you could never be a governess!"
As she uttered these words, her Pastor entered the room, having been awaked by Bräsig's laughter, and it struck him as so ludicrous that they were talking about Bräsig's qualifications as a governess--and, being short-sighted, he did not notice his wife's anger--that he joined in the laugh: "Ha, ha! Bräsig a governess!"
The entrance of her Pastor made a singular impression upon the Frau Pastorin, at first the waves of passion rose higher than ever, but then it seemed as if oil were poured on the troubled waters; she had indeed often allowed herself a momentary ebullition of anger in his presence; but to break out into flaming wrath! that was quite contrary to her principles, and a droll conflict began in her spirit and gleamed through her round honest face, like the light through a basket lantern; the flame of anger blazed up once more, and then sank down into the deep red glow of shame, that she, a Pastor's wife, and on such a day as this, had so far forgotten herself, and the glow died out in the gray ashes of a wholesome anger with herself, and as her own last words, that Bräsig could never be a governess, recurred to her, and she saw her Pastor laughing, the ashes were blown away by a little gust of merriment, but she held her handkerchief before her face, that the others might not see it.
Frau Nüssler had meanwhile been sitting on thorns, and, as the Pastor came in, she sprang up and said, quite distressed, "Herr Pastor, I am the innocent cause of all this trouble. Bräsig, stop your stupid laughing! Frau Pastorin thinks our Mining should be a governess. Dear heart, yes! If you and the Frau Pastorin think it best, it shall be so; you have always advised us for the best. Isn't it so, Jochen, it shall be so?"
Jochen slowly emerged from behind the stove. "Yes, it is as true as leather; if she must, she must," and with that, he went out of the room, probably to get the business through his head, in solitude.
"But what is all this?" asked the Pastor. "Regina, are you really in earnest?" And Frau Nüssler went up to the little Frau Pastorin. "It shall be just as you say, Frau Pastorin. Bräsig, for shame! Frau Pastorin, don't cry any longer!" and she drew away the handkerchief, and started back in surprise as she met the laughing face. "What does it mean?" she exclaimed.
"Only a misunderstanding, dear neighbor," said the old gentleman. "Nobody has thought of Mining being a governess. No! our children shall not swell the number of poor, unhappy maidens thrust out into the world, to earn their bitter bread in this hard calling, with weariness of mind and sickness of body. No, our children shall, with God's blessing, first become fresh, healthy and skilful housewives, and after that they may be governesses, if they like,--that is, to their own children."
"Herr Pastor, dear Herr Pastor," cried Frau Nüssler, as if a stone had been lifted from her heart, "God bless you for these words! Our Mining shall not be a governess. Jochen--where are you, Jochen? Ah, he has gone out in his grief! Yes, Herr Pastor, and they shall learn housekeeping! You shall see, I will do my best for them."
"Yes," interrupted Bräsig, "and they must learn to cook a good dinner."
"Of course, Bräsig. Ah, Herr Pastor, I have had so much trouble with governesses, myself; and only last week, I went to see the new Frau Amtmann,--she was a governess,--you see she totters and staggers, and sighs and gasps around the house, and looks as pale as a corpse--what you callinteresting."
"Interesting people always look as if they needed tying up to a stake," said Bräsig.
"But you Bee, Frau Pastorin, she cooks her eggs too hard, and burns her roast meat. I have nothing to say against learning, a great deal of learning if one likes--it is very nice to read the papers, and to know something about old Fritz and such people, and to know where the oranges and the spices grow; but even if one doesn't know such things, one can wait till one meets learned people, and then ask them; but about cooking, Frau Pastorin, you can't wait for that, for you must have your dinner, and who can you ask about that,--in the country? the stupid maid-servants? That would be a fine story!"
"You are right, neighbor," said the Pastor, "it is very important that girls should be well trained in housekeeping."
"So I say, Herr Pastor. To think of that poor little Frau Amtmann! She has the best will in the world, but knows nothing at all. She asked questions that my children could answer at seven years of age, whether the swine were milked, and how the little chickens cut open the shell. And Louise will not be a governess either, Herr Pastor?"
"No, not with our consent, and Habermann is of the same opinion; she shall learn housekeeping. Regina is getting a little too lazy, and--isn't it so?" sitting down by his wife on the sofa, and putting his arm about her,--"a little too old also, she will be glad of a young assistant, and could not bear to be parted from her Louise."
"You mean you could not bear it, Pastor! Really, I feel myself quite set aside; from morning to night, it is, 'Louise, get this!' and 'Louise, bring me that!'"
"Well, we will not quarrel, I should miss the child sorely, if she were away."
Meanwhile, Habermann had returned, with Franz and the children, and had met young Jochen wandering about in a state of unusual agitation. He ran to Mining, took her in his arms and kissed her, saying, "Mining, I can do nothing to prevent it;" and when Habermann asked what was the matter, he said only: "Brother-in-law, what must be, must." And as they took their departure from the parsonage, and he sat in the carriage, he felt as if he were carrying a lamb to the slaughter, and although his wife explained the whole matter fully, and told him Mining should never be a governess, the whole thing had made such a deep impression upon him, that he ever afterward looked upon Mining as an unhappy maiden, and treated her accordingly. She must always sit next him at the table, and, he gave her the best of everything, as if every meal were her last.