"Now is the time!" whispered Master Flea, and in the same moment Peregrine felt a slight passing pain in the pupil of his left eye. He knew that Master Flea had placed the microscopic glass in his eye, but he had not before had the slightest idea of its effects. Behind the tunicle of Swammer's eyes he perceived strange nerves and branches, the perplexed course of which he traced deep into the forehead, and could perceive that they were Swammer's thoughts. They ran much in this way;--"I did not expect to get off so easily here, without being better questioned. If papa was an ignoramus, of whom I never thought any thing, the son is still worse, with a greater infusion of childishness. With the simplicity of an idiot, he tells me the whole adventure with the Princess, not seeing that she must have already told me all, as my behaviour to her of necessity presupposes an earlier intimacy. But there is no help for it; I must speak him fair, because I want his help. He is simple enough to believe all I say, and, in his stupid good-nature, to make many a sacrifice to my interest, for which he will reap no other thanks than that, when all is over, and Gamaheh mine again, I shall laugh soundly at him behind his back."
"It seemed to me," said Swammer, coming close to Peregrine, "it seemed to me, my dear Mr. Tyss, as if a flea were on your collar."
The thoughts ran thus:--"The deuce! that was, indeed, Master Flea! It would be a queer piece of business if Gamaheh should be right after all."
Peregrine stepped nimbly back, protesting that he had no dislike to fleas.
"Then," replied Swammer, with a profound bow, "then for the present I most respectfully take my leave, my dear Mr. Tyss."
The thoughts ran thus:--"I wish the blackwinged devil had you, idiot!"
Master Flea took the microscopic glass out of the eye of the astonished Peregrine, and then said, "You have now, my dear sir, experienced the wonderful effects of the glass, which has not its equal in the world, and must perceive what a superiority it gives you over men, by laying open before your eyes their inmost thoughts. But, if you were to use it constantly, the perpetual knowledge of their real sentiments would overwhelm you, for the bitter vexation, which you have just now experienced, would be too often repeated. I will always be with you when you leave your house, sitting either in your collar, or in some convenient place, and if you wish to learn the thoughts of him who is conversing with you, you have only to snap your fingers, and the glass will be in your eye immediately."
Peregrine, seeing the manifest advantages of such a gift, was about to pour out the warmest thanks, when two deputies from the council entered, and announced to him that he was accused of a deep offence, the consequence of which must be preliminary imprisonment and the seizure of his papers.
Mr. Peregrine swore high and low that he was not conscious of the slightest offence; but one of the deputies replied with a smile, that perhaps in a few hours his innocence might be proved, till when, however, he must submit to the orders of the magistrate. After this, what was left to Mr. Tyss but to get into the coach, and suffer himself to be carried off to prison? It may be supposed with what feelings he passed Mr. Swammer's chamber.
Master Flea sate in the collar of the prisoner.
Unexpected meeting of two friends.--Love-despair of the Thistle, Zeherit.--Optical duel of two magi.--Somnambulant condition of the Princess Gamaheh.--The thoughts of the dream.--How Dörtje Elverdink almost speaks the truth, and the Thistle, Zeherit, runs off with the Princess Gamaheh.
The mistake of the watchman in arresting Mr. George Pepusch for a thief was soon explained. In the mean time, however, some informalities had been discovered in his passport, and for this reason they required that he should produce some resident citizen of Frankfort as his bail, till when he must be contented with his present place in prison.
Here then sate Mr. George Pepusch in a very neat room, meditating on whom he could find in Frankfort to be his bail. He had been away so long that he feared he must be forgotten by those who had formerly known him well; and, as to foreign recommendations, he possessed none whatever. He began to look out of the window in a very melancholy mood, and cursed his fate aloud, when a window was opened close by him, and a voice exclaimed,--"What! do I see right? Is it you, George?" Mr. Pepusch was not a little astonished on perceiving the friend, with whom he had been most intimate during his residence at Madras. "The deuce!" he exclaimed, "that I should be so forgetful, so utterly stupid! I knew that you had got safely into harbour, and in Hamburg heard strange things of your way of living, and, when I had got here, never thought of paying you a visit. But he who has such wonderful things in his head as I have--Well, it is lucky that accident brought you to me! You see I am under arrest, but you can immediately set me free, by answering for my being really the George Pepusch, whom you knew years ago, and not a thief nor a robber."
"Why," replied Peregrine, "I should be an excellent bail, being myself under arrest!"
He now related at large to his friend, how since his return to Frankfort he had found himself deprived of both his parents, and had from that time led, amidst all the bustle of a city, a lonely joyless life, devoted to the memory of other days. To this George replied morosely, "Oh yes, I have heard of it, I have heard of the fools'-tricks you play, that you may waste life in a childish dream. You would be a hero of innocence, of childishness; and for this despise the just claims which society has upon you. You give imaginary family feasts, and bestow upon the poor the costly viands, the dear wines, which you have before served up to the dead. You give yourself Christmas-boxes, and act as if you were a child, and then present to poor children these gifts, which are of the sort usually wasted in rich houses upon spoiled young ones. But you do not reflect that you are doing a scurvy benefit to the poor in tickling their gums with delicacies, that they may doubly feel their wretchedness, when afterwards they are compelled, by pressing hunger, to eat the vile bits that would be rejected by many a petted lap-dog. Ha! how this alms-giving disgusts me, when I think that what you thus waste in a day would be sufficient to support them for months in a moderate manner. Then too you overload them with glittering gew-gaws, when a common toy, presented by their fathers or mothers, gives them infinitely more pleasure. They eat themselves sick with your infernal marchpane; and with the knowledge of your splendid gifts, which in the end must be denied to them, you sow in their young minds the seeds of discontent and uneasiness. You are rich, full of youth, and yet withdraw yourself from all society, and thus frustrate the approaches of well-meaning minds. I will believe that the death of your parents may have shaken you, but if every one, who has suffered a real loss, were to creep into his shell, by heavens! the whole world would be like a house of mourning, and I would not live in it. But, my friend! do you know that you are under the influence of the most determined egotism that ever lurked beneath a silly misanthropy?--Go, go, Peregrine, I can no longer esteem you, no longer be your friend, if you do not change this way of life, and give up your abominable system of house-keeping."
Peregrine snapped his fingers, and Master Flea instantly placed the microscopic glass in his eye. The thoughts of the angry Pepusch ran thus,--"Is it not a pity that such a kind, understanding man should fall into these dangerous fancies, which at last will completely unnerve him, and deprive him of his best powers? But it is evident that his delicate mind, which is besides inclined to melancholy, could not endure the blow inflicted on him by the death of his parents, and he seeks for consolation in a mode of life which borders upon madness. He is lost if I do not save him. The more I esteem him, the harder I will attack him, and the stronger I will paint his folly."
In these thoughts Peregrine saw that he had found his old friend unaltered; and, after Master Flea had taken the microscopic glass out of his eye, he said, "George, I will not contend with you as to what you say of my mode of life, for I know you mean it well with me; but I must tell you that it gives me real delight when I can make a day of festival to the poor, although in this I do not think of myself, a detestable egotism, of which at least I feel unconscious. They are the flowers in my life, which else seems to me like a wild melancholy field of thistles."
"What do you say of thistles?" interrupted George Pepusch hastily; "why do you despise thistles, and place them in opposition to flowers? Are you so little versed in natural history as not to know that the most wonderful blossom in the world is that of the thistle, I mean theCactus grandiflorus. And again, is not the thistle, Zeherit, the most beautiful Cactus under the sun? Peregrine, I have so long kept it from you, or rather was forced to keep it from you, because I myself had not the full conviction of it; but now learn, that I myself am the thistle, Zeherit, and will never give up my claims to the hand of the daughter of the worthy king, Sekakis, the heavenly Princess Gamaheh. I had found her, but in the same moment the diabolical watchmen seized me, and dragged me to prison."
"How!" cried Peregrine, half petrified with astonishment, "are you too involved in the strangest of all histories?"
"What history?" asked Pepusch.
Peregrine did not hesitate to tell his friend, as he had before told Mr. Swammer, all that had happened at the bookbinder's, and afterwards at his own house. He did not even conceal the appearance of Master Flea, although, as may be easily supposed, he kept to himself the secret of his possessing the microscopic glass.
George's eyes burnt, he bit his lips, struck his forehead, and, when Peregrine had ended, cried out like a maniac, "The false one! the traitress!" Greedy, in the self-pangs of despairing love, to drain the last drop from the poison-cup, which Peregrine had unconsciously proffered him, he made him repeat every little trait of Dörtje's behaviour, interrupting him with murmurs of--"In the arms! on the breast! glowing kisses!" Then again he started away from the window, and ran about the room with the gestures of a madman. In vain Peregrine cried out to him to hear the rest, exclaiming that he had much that was consolatory to say--Pepusch did not the more leave off his raving.
The door was opened, and an officer of the council announced to Peregrine that no sufficient cause had been found for his longer imprisonment, and he might return home.
The first use Peregrine made of his regained freedom was to offer himself as bail for George Pepusch, testifying that he was really George Pepusch, with whom he had lived in intimacy at Madras, and who was known to him for a man of fortune and respectability.
Master Flea exhausted himself in very philosophic and instructive reflections, which amounted to this, that the Thistle, Zeherit, in spite of his rough exterior, was very kind and reasonable, but a little too overbearing, and, fairly considered, was quite correct in his censure of Mr. Peregrine's way of life, though somewhat too harsh perhaps in his expressions. He too,--that is, Master Flea,--would really advise Mr. Peregrine henceforth to go abroad in the world.
"Believe me," he said, "it will bring you many advantages to leave your solitude. You need no longer fear seeming shy and confused, as, with the mysterious glass in your eye, you command the thoughts of men, and it is, therefore, impossible that you should not always maintain the right tact. How firmly and calmly may you stand before the highest, while their inward souls lie open to your eyes. Therefore, move freely in the world; your blood will circulate more lightly, all melancholy brooding will cease, and, which is the best of all, motley ideas and thoughts will arise in your brain, the image of the fair Gamaheh will lose its brightness, and you will soon be better able to keep your word with me."
Peregrine felt that both George Pepusch and Master Flea meant him well, and he resolved to follow their wise advice. But when he heard the sweet voice of his beautiful beloved, he could not think how it was possible for him to leave the house, which had become a paradise to him.
At length he brought himself to visit a public promenade. Master Flea had fixed the glass in his eye, and taken up a place in his collar, where he gently rocked himself to and fro at his ease.
"Have I at last the pleasure of seeing my good friend Mr. Tyss again? You make yourself scarce, my dear sir, and we have all been longing for you. Let us go into a coffeehouse, and take a glass of wine together. I am truly rejoiced to see you."
It was thus that he was addressed by a young man, whom he had seen scarcely two or three times. The thoughts ran thus;--"Is the stupid misanthrope visible again? But I must flatter him, that I may soon borrow money of him. He'll not surely be possessed by the devil, and accept my invitation; I have not a halfpenny in my pocket, and no innkeeper will trust me any longer."
Two well-dressed girls now crossed him. They were sisters, distantly related to him.
"Ah, cousin!" cried one of them, laughing, "do we meet you at last? It is not well done to lock yourself up so that one can never get a sight of you. You do not know how fond mamma is of you, because you are such a sensible man. Promise me to come soon. There, kiss my hand." The thoughts ran thus;--"How! what is this? what has come to our cousin? I wanted to make him blush and stammer, and formerly he used to run away from every girl; but now he stands and eyes me so strangely, and kisses my hand without the least shyness. If he should be in love with me? That would be a fine thing! My mother says that he is somewhat stupid, but what does that signify? I will have him: a stupid man, when he is rich, as my cousin is, is the very best." The sister had merely lisped, with downcast eyes and blushing cheeks, "Come to us shortly, dear cousin." The thoughts ran thus:--"Our cousin is a very handsome man, and I do not understand why mamma calls him silly, and can't endure him. If he should come to our house, he will fall in love with me, for I am the prettiest girl in all Frankfort. I will have him, because I want a rich man, that I may sleep till twelve o'clock in the day, and wear dearer shawls than my sister."
A physician, in passing, perceived Peregrine, stopped his carriage, and called out, "Good morning, my dear sir; you look uncommonly well; heaven keep you so! But, if any thing should happen, think of me, the old friend of your late father: such sound constitutions as yours I can soon set to rights. Adieu." The thoughts ran thus:--"I believe the fellow is constantly well out of pure avarice; but he looks tolerably pale now, and seems at last to have something the matter with him. Well; only let him once come under my hands, and he shall not soon get up from his bed again; he shall undergo a sound penance for his obstinate health."
Immediately after this, an old merchant cried out to him, "My best greetings to you, worthy Mr. Tyss; see how I am forced to run and bustle, and plague myself with business. You have done wisely in withdrawing from it, though with your quicksightedness you could not fail of doubling your father's fortune." The thoughts were thus:--"If the fool would only meddle with business, he would speculate away his whole fortune in a short time, and that would be a real delight. His old papa, whose joy was in ruining other people that wished to help themselves by a little bankruptcy, would turn himself about in his grave."
Many more such cutting contrasts between words and thoughts occurred to Peregrine. He always directed his answers rather by what people meant than by what they said, and, as he penetrated into their inmost intents, they themselves were puzzled what to think of him. At last he felt wearied, snapped his fingers, and immediately the glass vanished from the pupil of his left eye.
On returning to his house he was surprised by a strange spectacle. A man stood in the middle of the passage, looking steadfastly through a strangely-formed glass at Mr. Swammer's door. Upon this door sun-bright circles played in rainbow colours, and then met in one fiery point, that seemed to pierce through the wood. As this took place a deep sighing was heard, broken by cries of pain, which came, as it appeared, from the room. To his horror, Peregrine fancied that he distinguished Gamaheh's voice.
"What do you want? what are you doing here?" he exclaimed to the man, who really seemed to be practising diabolic arts, the rainbow circles growing with every moment quicker and brighter, the centre-point piercing more keenly, and the cries sounding more painfully from the chamber.
"Oh!" exclaimed the stranger, closing his glass, and hastily putting it into his pocket,--"Oh! the landlord. Your pardon, my dear sir, that I am operating here without your permission; I did indeed pay you a visit to request it, but Alina told me you had gone out, and the business here would admit of no delay."
"What business?" said Peregrine, pretty harshly; "what business is it that will admit of no delay?"
"Don't you know," replied the stranger with an odious grin, "don't you know that my ill-advised niece, Dörtje Elverdink, has run away? You were arrested, though with great injustice, as her seducer, on which score I will with great pleasure testify your perfect innocence, if it should be requisite. It is not to you, but to Swammerdamm, once my friend, and now my enemy, that the faithless Dörtje has fled. She is in that chamber--I know it--and alone, since Swammerdamm has gone out. I cannot get in, as the door is barred and bolted, and I am too mild to employ force; but I have taken the liberty to torment her a little with my optical glass, that she may know I am her lord and master in spite of her imaginary princess-ship."
"You are the devil!" exclaimed Peregrine, in the highest indignation,--"you are the devil! but not lord and master of the beautiful Gamaheh. Out of my house! Practise your devil's tricks where you will, but here you will fail with them, I can promise you."
"Don't put yourself in a passion," replied Leuwenhock; "don't put yourself in a passion, my dear Mr. Tyss; I am an innocent man, who mean nothing but good. It is a little monster, a little basilisk, that sits in yonder room, in the shape of a lovely woman. If the abode with my insignificance displeased her, she might have fled; but the traitress should not have robbed me of my most precious treasure, the best friend of my soul, without whom I am nothing. She should not have run away with Master Flea. You will not understand what I mean, worthy sir, but----"
Here Master Flea, who had planted himself in a secure place, could not refrain from bursting out into a fine mocking laugh.
"Ha!" cried Leuwenhock, struck with a sudden terror, "ha! what was that? Can it be possible? Here, on this spot? Permit me, my dear sir--"
Thus saying, Leuwenhock stretched out his hand, and snatched at Peregrine's collar, who dexterously avoided his grasp, and, seizing him with a strong arm, dragged him towards the door, to fling him out without farther ado. But just as he had reached the door, it was opened from without, and in rushed George Pepusch, followed by Swammerdamm.
No sooner did Leuwenhock perceive his enemy Swammerdamm, than he burst from Peregrine with the utmost exertion of his last strength, and planted himself with his back against the door of the mysterious chamber, where the fair one was imprisoned. Swammerdamm, seeing this, took a little telescope from his pocket, drew it out at full length, and fell upon his adversary, exclaiming, "Draw, scoundrel, if you have courage!"
Leuwenhock had quickly a similar instrument in his hand, drew it out as the other had done, and cried, "Come on; I am ready, and you shall soon feel my prowess."
Each now put his glass to his eye, and fell furiously upon the other with sharp, murderous glances, now lengthening and now shortening his weapon by drawing the tubes in and out. There were feints, parries, thrusts, in short, all the tricks of the fencing-school, and with every moment they seemed to grow more angry. Whenever one was hit he cried out aloud, sprang into the air, cut the most wonderful capers, made the most beautiful entrechats, and turned pirouettes, as well as the best pas-de-seul dancer on the Parisian stage, till his adversary fixed him fast with the shortened telescope. When the other was hit he did precisely the same, and in this way they went on interchangeably with the most violent springs, the maddest gestures, and the most furious cries. The perspiration dropped from their brows, the blood-red eyes seemed starting from their heads, and as there appeared no other cause for their St. Vitus' dance than their looking at each other through their glasses, they might have been taken for maniacs, just escaped from the mad-house. For the rest, it was a very pretty sight.
Swammerdamm at last succeeded in driving Leuwenhock from his post by the door,--which he had maintained with obstinate bravery,--and thus carrying on the war in the remoter parts of the ground. George Pepusch saw the opportunity, pressed against the unoccupied door, that was neither barred nor bolted, and slipped into the chamber, but in the next moment he rushed out, exclaiming, "She has fled!--fled!" and then hurried out of the house with the rapidity of lightning.
Both Leuwenhock and Swammerdamm were seriously wounded, for both hopped and danced about after a mad fashion, and with their howlings and cryings made a music to it that seemed like the shrieks of the damned in hell. Peregrine knew not how to set about separating them, and thus ending a contest, which was as ludicrous as it was terrific. At last the combatants perceived that the door stood wide open, forgot their duel and their pains, put their destructive weapons into their pockets, and rushed into the chamber.
Mr. Tyss took it grievously to heart that the fair one had fled from his house, and wished the abominable Leuwenhock at the devil, when the voice of Alina was heard upon the stairs. She was laughing aloud, and muttered between, "What strange things one does see! Wonderful! incredible!"
"What?" cried Peregrine dejectedly, "what wonder has happened now?"
"Oh, my dear Mr. Tyss!" exclaimed the old woman, "only come up stairs directly, and go into your chamber."
And she opened the room-door with a cunning titter. On entering, O wonder! O joy! the little Dörtje Elverdink tripped up to him, in her dress of tissue, as he had before seen her at Mr. Swammer's.
"At length I see you again!" lisped the little one, and contrived to nestle up so closely to Peregrine, that he could not help embracing her most tenderly in spite of all his good resolutions. His senses seemed ecstacied by love and joy.
It has often happened to a man that in the height of his transports he has hit his nose somewhat roughly, and, being suddenly awakened out of his heaven by the earthly pain, has tumbled down again into the vulgar world. Just so it chanced with our Mr. Tyss. In stooping down to kiss Dörtje's sweet mouth, he gave his nose, of goodly dimensions, a hard blow against the diadem of shining brilliants, which the little one wore in her raven locks. The pain of the blow upon the sharp points of the stone brought him sufficiently to himself to perceive the diadem. The diadem reminded him of the Princess Gamaheh, and with this recollection recurred all that Master Flea had told him of the little syren. He bethought himself that a Princess, the daughter of a mighty king, could not possibly care about his love, and therefore all her pretended affection must be a mere trick, by which the dissembler hoped to regain possession of Master Flea. With this consideration a cold ice-stream seemed to rush through his veins, which, if it did not quite extinguish, at least damped, the love-flames.
Peregrine gently freed himself from the arms of the little one, who had lovingly embraced him, and said with downcast eyes, "Oh, heavens! you are the daughter of the mighty King Sekakis, the beautiful Gamaheh. Your pardon, princess, if a feeling, which I could not master, hurried me into folly, into madness. But yourself, lady,--"
"What are you saying, my fair friend?" interrupted Dörtje Elverdink; "I the daughter of a mighty king? I a princess? I am your Alina, who will love you to distraction, if you,--but how is this?--Alina, the queen of Golconda? she is already with you; I have spoken with her--a good kind woman, but she has grown old, and is no longer so handsome as in the time of her marriage with the French general. Woe is me! I am not the right one; I never ruled in Golconda. Woe is me!"
The little one had closed her eyes, and began to totter. Peregrine conveyed her to a sofa.
"Gamaheh!" she went on, speaking in a state of somnambulism, "Gamaheh, do you say? Gamaheh, the daughter of King Sekakis? Yes, I recollect, in Famagusta!--I was indeed a beautiful tulip--Yet no, even then I felt desire and love in my breast.--Still, still on that point!"
She was silent, and seemed to be falling into a perfect slumber. Peregrine undertook the perilous enterprise of placing her in a more convenient position, but, as he gently embraced her, a concealed pin prickled him sharply in the finger. According to his custom he snapt his fingers, and Master Flea, taking it for the concerted signal, immediately placed the microscopic glass in his eye.
Now, as usual, Peregrine saw behind the tunicle of the eyes the strange interweaving of nerves and veins, which pierced deep into the brain. But with these were twined bright silver threads, a hundred times thinner than the thinnest spider's web, and it was these very threads that confused him, for they seemed to be endless, branching out into a something, indistinguishable even by the microscopic eye; perhaps they were thoughts of a sublimer kind, the others of a sort more easily comprehended. Then he observed flowers, strangely blended, which took the shape of men, then again men, who dissolved as it were into the earth, and peeped forth again as stones and metals. Amongst these all manner of beasts were in motion, who underwent innumerable changes, and spoke strange languages. No one appearance answered to the other, and in the plaintive sounds of sorrow that filled the air, there was a dissonance, corresponding with that of the images. But it was this very dissonance that ennobled still more the deep fundamental harmony, which broke out triumphantly, and united all that seemed irreconcileable.
"Do not puzzle yourself," whispered Master Flea, "do not puzzle yourself, my good Peregrine; those which you see, are the images of a dream. Even if any thing more should lurk behind them, now is not the time for farther inquiry. Only call the little deceiver by her real name, and then sift her as much as you please."
As the lady had many names, it must have been difficult, one would have thought, for Peregrine to hit upon the right, but, without the least reflection, he exclaimed, "Dörtje Elverdink! dear, charming girl; was it no deceit? Is it possible that you can love me?"
Immediately the little one awoke from her dreamy state, opened her eye, and said with burning glance, "What a doubt, my Peregrine! Could a maiden do as I have done, unless her breast were filled with the most glowing passion? Peregrine, I love you more than any one, and, if you will be mine, I am yours with my whole soul, and remain with you because I cannot leave you, and not merely to escape from the tyranny of my uncle."
The silver threads had disappeared, and the thoughts, properly arranged, ran thus:--"How is this? At first I feigned a passion for him only to regain Master Flea for myself and Leuwenhock; and now I actually am fond of him. I have caught myself in my own snares. I think no more of Master Flea, and would like to be his, who seems lovelier to me than any man I have ever seen."
It may be easily supposed what effect these thoughts produced in Peregrine's breast. He fell on his knees before the fair one, covered her hand with a thousand burning kisses, called her his joy, his heaven, his whole happiness.
"Well!" lisped the maiden, drawing him gently to her side, "well, my love, you certainly will not deny a request, on the fulfilment of which depends the repose, nay, the very existence of your beloved."
"Demand," replied Peregrine, tenderly embracing her, "demand any thing, my life,--any thing you will; your slightest wish is my command. Nothing in the world is so dear to me that I would not with pleasure sacrifice it to you and your affection."
"Woe is me!" lisped Master Flea; "who could have imagined that the little traitress would have conquered? I am lost!"
"Hear then," replied Gamaheh, after having returned with equal fire the glowing kisses, which Peregrine imprinted on her lips, "hear then; I know how the--"
The door burst open, and in rushed George Pepusch.
"Zeherit!" cried the little one in despair, and fell back on the sofa, senseless.
The Thistle, Zeherit, flew to the princess, took her in his arms, and ran off with the speed of lightning.
For this time Master Flea was saved.
Thoughts of poetical young enthusiasts and female blue-stockings.--Peregrine's reflections upon his life, and Master Flea's learning and understanding.--Singular virtue and firmness of Mr. Tyss.--Unexpected conclusion of an event that threatened tragically.
With the speed of lightning,--as the reader has already learnt at the conclusion of the fourth adventure,--George Pepusch snatched the fair one from the arms of the enamoured Peregrine, and left him behind petrified with astonishment and terror. When at length the latter came to his recollection, and would have followed his robber-friend, all was still and desolate in the house. Upon his repeated calling, the old Alina came pattering up the stairs from one of the farthest rooms, and declared that she had not observed any, the slightest, part of the whole business.
Peregrine was nigh going mad at the loss of Dörtje, but Master Flea began to console him in a tone that must have inspired the most desperate with confidence: "You are not yet quite certain, my dear Mr. Peregrine, whether the fair Dörtje Elverdink has really left your house. As well as I can judge of such things, she is not far off; I seem to feel her nearness. But, if you will follow my friendly counsel, you will leave her to her fate. Trust me, she is as capricious as the wind; it may be, as you have said, that she now is really fond of you, but how long will it be before she plunges you into such misery, that you will be in danger from it of losing your reason, like the Thistle, Zeherit? I say again, give up your lonely way of life. You will be the better for it. How many women have you known, that you should take Dörtje for the handsomest of her sex? What maiden have you approached with love, that you should believe that Dörtje alone can love you? Go to, Peregrine; experience will show you better. You are a well-made, handsome man, and I should not be so keen-sighted, as Master Flea really is, if I could not see beforehand that love would smile upon you in a very different way from what you may expect."
Peregrine had already broken the ice by going abroad in public places, and it was therefore the less difficult for him to visit societies, from which he had formerly withdrawn himself. In this Master Flea rendered him excellent service with his microscopic glass, and he is said during this time to have kept a day-book, and to have made notes of the most remarkable and pleasant contradictions between words and thoughts, as they daily occurred to him. Perhaps the editor of this strange tale, called Master Flea, may find some future opportunity of bringing to light many worthy impartments from this same day-book; here it would only stop the current of the history, and, therefore, would not be welcome to the reader. So much, however, may be said, that many of the phrases with the corresponding thoughts seemed to be stereotyped as it were; as for example,--"Favour me with your advice;"--the thought being, "He is fool enough to think I ask his advice in a matter that I have long since resolved upon, and that tickles him." "I have the most perfect confidence in you;"--the thought being, "I knew long ago that you were a scoundrel," &c. c. It should also be mentioned that many folks mightily puzzled Peregrine with his microscopic observations. These were the young men, who fell into raptures upon every thing, and poured themselves forth in a torrent of splendid phrases. Amongst these the most remarkable were the young poets, who were boiling over with imagination and genius, and were particularly adored by the ladies. To these were associated the blue-stockings, who were as familiar with metaphysics as the less learned part of their sex with scandal, and could talk like any parson in his pulpit. If it seemed strange to Peregrine that the silver threads should twine together out of Gamaheh's brain into an undistinguishable something, he was not a little astonished at what he saw in the heads of those above mentioned. He saw indeed the strange weaving of nerves and veins, but remarked at the same time, that when the owners of them spoke most learnedly on art and science, they did not penetrate the brain, but were reflected outwards, so that all recognition of the thoughts was out of the question. He imparted his observation to Master Flea, who usually sate in a fold of his neckcloth, and Master Flea was of opinion, that what Peregrine took for thoughts were in reality none, but merely words, which in vain endeavoured to become thoughts.
If Mr. Tyss began now to amuse himself in society, his faithful companion also laid aside much of his gravity, and exhibited himself as a knavish little voluptuary, an amiableroué. He could not see the fair neck or the white bosom of any beauty, without slipping out of his hiding-place with the first opportunity, and springing on the inviting spot, where he very dexterously contrived to elude the attacks of pursuing fingers. This manœuvre combined a double interest. In the first place, he found a pleasure in it for the thing itself; and then, he hoped, by drawing Peregrine's attention to the fair ones, to cast Dörtje's image into shadow. This, however, seemed to be a fruitless labour, for none of all the ladies, whom he now approached without the least timidity, seemed to him so fair and lovely as his little princess. The great cause however of his continued constancy was, that in none he found the words and thoughts so united in his favour as with her. He was convinced that he could never leave her, and this he repeated incessantly. Master Flea was in no little alarm.
One day Peregrine remarked that the old Alina laughed very cunningly, took snuff more frequently than usual, muttered strangely, in short, acted altogether like one who is big with a secret and would fain be disburthened of it. To every thing she replied, "Yes, one can't tell that!--one must wait!" whether these words were suited to the occasion or not, till at last Peregrine, full of impatience, exclaimed, "Speak it out at once; tell me what is the matter, without creeping around me with those mysterious looks."
"Ah!" cried the old woman, clasping her withered hands together, "ah! the dear little thing! the sweet little puppet!"
"Whom do you mean?" asked Peregrine angrily.
"Ah!" said the old woman, smirking, "ah! whom should I mean but our princess, below here with Mr. Swammer,--your bride, Mr. Tyss?"
"Woman!" cried Mr. Tyss, "unlucky woman, she is here!--in the house!--and you do not tell me till now?"
"Where,"--replied the old woman, without in the least losing her composure,--"where should the princess be but here, where she has found her mother?"
"How!" cried Peregrine--"what is it you say, Alina?"
"Yes," rejoined the old woman, drawing herself up--"yes, Alina is my right name, and who knows what else may come to light, in a short time, before your nuptials?"
Peregrine entreated her, by all the angels and devils, to go on; but, without paying the least attention to his hurry, she seated herself snugly in the arm-chair, drew out her snuffbox, took a prodigious pinch, and demonstrated to Peregrine very circumstantially, that there was no worse failing than impatience.
"Calmness, my son, calmness, is above all things requisite, or otherwise you run the risk of losing all in the moment that you think you have gained it. Before you get a word out of me, you must first promise to seat yourself there, quite quietly like a pretty-behaved child, and for the life of you not to interrupt me in my story."
Nothing was left to Peregrine but to obey the old woman, who, when he had seated himself, related things that were strange enough to hear.
According to the old woman's tale, the two gentlemen, namely, Swammerdamm and Leuwenhock, had another tough struggle in the chamber, and for a time kept up a terrible clatter. Then again all had become quite still, when a heavy moaning had made her fancy that one of the two was mortally wounded; but on peeping through the keyhole she perceived something quite different from what she had expected. Swammerdamm and Leuwenhock had seized George Pepusch, and stroaked and squeezed him with their fists, so that he grew thinner and thinner; during which operation he had uttered the moans heard by the old woman. At last, when he had grown as thin as a thistle-stem, they had tried to squeeze him through the keyhole, and the poor Pepusch was hanging with half his body out, when she ran away in terror. Soon afterwards she heard a loud laughing, and saw Pepusch in his natural form, quietly led out of the house by the two magicians, while at the room-door stood Dörtje and beckoned her in. The little one wished to dress herself, and needed her assistance.
The old woman could not talk enough of the great heap of clothes which the princess brought out of a variety of chests and showed to her, each of which had appeared richer than the other. She declared that none but an Indian princess could possess such jewels as the little one; her eyes still ached with the glitter. She then went on to say how, during the dressing, she had talked of this and that, of the late Mr. Tyss, on the delightful life they had formerly led in the house, and at last the conversation had fallen upon her deceased relations.
"You know, my dear Mr. Tyss, that nothing is more valued by me than my late cousin, the calico-printer's wife. She was in Maintz, and, I believe, even in the Indies, and could speak French and sing. If I owe to my cousin the unchristian name of Alina, I will forgive her that in the grave, since it is from her alone that I have learnt polite manners and the art of speaking elegantly. As I was talking much of my cousin, the little princess asked after my father, my grandfather, and so on, higher and higher up the family. I opened my heart to her, told her that my mother had been almost as handsome as myself, except that I go beyond her in regard to the nose, which I derive from my father, and which is after the shape that has been usual in the family since the memory of man. Then I came to speak of the country-wake, when I waltzed with Serjeant Drumstick, and wore the skyblue stockings with red clocks. Ah, dear God! we are all weak, sinful creatures! But oh! Mr. Tyss, you should have seen how the little princess, who at first had laughed and tittered, that it was a pleasure to hear her, now grew more and more quiet, and gazed on me with such odd looks, that I began to be terribly alarmed.--And then think, Mr. Tyss, on a sudden, before I could prevent it, she lies on her knees before me, and will positively kiss my hand, exclaiming, 'Yes, it is you! Now I recognise you! It is yourself!'--and when, quite astonished, I asked what it all meant,----"
Here the old woman stopt, and, when Peregrine pressed her to go on, she with great gravity and precision took a mighty pinch of snuff, and said,
"You'll know in good time, my son, what farther happened. Every thing has its time and hour."
He was now more urgent than ever with the old woman to proceed, when she burst out into a roaring fit of laughter; upon which he admonished her, with a very sour face, that his room was not exactly the place for her to play off such fooleries. But the old woman, planting her hands in her sides, seemed ready to burst. The burning red of her brow changed to an agreeable mahogany, and Peregrine was upon the point of flinging a glass of water into the old woman's face, when she recovered her breath and speech at the same time.
"I can't help laughing," she said, "I can't help laughing at the foolish little thing. No; such love is no longer on earth. Only think, Mr. Tyss,----"
Here she broke out into a fresh fit of laughter, and Peregrine's patience was well nigh exhausted. At last, with much difficulty, he got out of her that the little princess had taken up the whimsical notion of Mr. Tyss being positively determined to marry the old woman, and had compelled her solemnly to promise to reject his hand.
It seemed to Peregrine as if he were mixed up in a scene of witchery, and he felt so strangely, that even the honest old Alina appeared to him a supernatural kind of being, from whom he could not fly with sufficient speed. But she still detained him, having something to communicate in all haste, that concerned the little princess.
"It is now certain," she said confidentially,--"it is now certain, my dear Mr. Tyss, that the bright star of fortune has arisen, but it is your business to keep it favourable. When I protested to the little one that you were desperately smitten with her, and far from any idea of marrying me, she replied, that she could not be convinced of it and give you her hand till you had complied with a wish that had long sate near her heart. She says, that she had a pretty little negro boy in her service who had fled from her; I have, indeed, denied it, but she maintains that the boy is so little he might live in a nutshell.
"Nothing will ever come of this," exclaimed Peregrine violently, well knowing what the old woman was driving at, and rushed out of the room, and then out of the house, with great vehemence.
It is an established custom, that when the hero of a tale is under any violent agitation, he should run out into a forest, or, at least, into some lonely wood; and the custom is good, because it really prevails in life. Hence it could not be otherwise with Mr. Tyss, than that he ran from his house without stopping, till he had left the city behind him and reached a remote wood. Moreover, as in a romantic history no wood must be without rustling leaves, sighing breezes, murmuring brooks, &c. &c. it is to be supposed that Peregrine found all these things in his place of refuge. Upon a mossy stone, the lower half of which lay in a bright brook, Peregrine sate down with a firm resolution to reflect on his strange adventures, and, if possible, find the Ariadne clue which might show the way out of this labyrinth of mysteries. The murmurs of the leaves, returning at equal intervals, the monotonous babbling of the waters, the constant clap, clap of a distant mill, soon formed a ground which regulated the thoughts so that they no longer rushed wildly together without time or rhythmus, but became an intelligible melody. Thus, after sitting some time on this pleasant spot, he got to reflect calmly.
"In reality," he said to himself, "a fantastic tale-writer could not have invented wilder events than I have actually gone through in the short space of a few days. Beauty, love itself visits the lonely mysogunist, and a look, a word, is sufficient to fan, in his breast, the flames which he had dreaded without knowing them. But the time, the place, the whole appearance of the strange syren are so mysterious, that it seems to be the result of magic;--And then it is not long before a despised little insect evinces knowledge, understanding, nay, even a sort of supernatural power. And this creature talks of things, which to common minds are incomprehensible, in a way as if it all were nothing more than the familiar to-day and yesterday of usual life, as it appears repeated for the thousandth time.
"Have I come too near the fly-wheel, that dark unknown powers are driving, and has it caught me in its whirlings? Would not one believe, that the reason must be lost with such things, when they cross the path of life? And yet I find myself quite well, withal: nay, it no longer seems strange to me that a Flea-king should have sought my protection, and, in requital have entrusted me with a mystery that opens to me the secrets of thought, and thus sets me above the deceptions of life. But whither will or can all this lead? How, if under this singular mask of a flea, an evil demon lurked, who sought to lure me into destruction, who aimed to rob me of all the happiness that might bloom to me in the possession of Dörtje? Were it not better to get rid at once of the little monster?"
"That was a very pitiful idea, Mr. Tyss!" exclaimed Master Flea, interrupting Peregrine's soliloquy. "Do you imagine that the mystery I have entrusted to you is a trifle? Should not this gift pass for the most decided proof of my sincere friendship? Shame on you for being suspicious! You are surprised at the reason, the mind, of a little despised insect; and that proves,--don't be offended,--the narrowness of your education in science. I wish, in regard to the thinking instinctive soul of animals, you had read the Greek Philo, or, at least, the treatise of Hieronymus Rorarius, 'quod animalia bruta ratione utantur melius homine; or his oration 'Pro muribus;'--or that you knew what Lipsius and the great Leibnitz thought of the mental power of beasts, or that you were aware what the profound Rabbi Maimonides has said about their souls; you would not then take me for a demon on account of my understanding, or measure the spiritual faculties by the proportions of the body. I suppose, at last, you will come to the shrewd opinion of the Spanish physician, Gomez Pereira, who could find nothing more in animals than mere artificial machines, without thought or freedom of will, moving arbitrarily and automatically. Yet, no; I cannot deem you so absurd, and am convinced that you have long ago learnt better through my humble person. Moreover, I do not well understand what you call wonders, or in what way you are able to divide, into the wonderful and natural, the appearances of our being, which, in reality, are ourselves, as we and they mutually condition each other. Do not, therefore, wonder at any thing because it has not yet occurred to you, or because you fancy you do not see the connexion of cause and effect; that only proves the natural or diseased obtuseness of your sight, which injures your perception. But,--do not take it amiss, Mr. Peregrine,--the drollest part of the business is, that you want to split yourself into two parts, one of which recognises and willingly believes the so-called wonders; the other, on the contrary, is mightily astonished at this recognition and belief. Has it ever occurred to you, that you believe in the images of dreams?"
"I!" exclaimed Peregrine--"My dear fellow, how can you talk of dreams, which are only the result of some disorder in our corporeal or intellectual structure?"
At these words Master Flea burst into a laugh, as fine as it was mocking, and then said to Mr. Tyss, who was not a little confounded,
"My poor friend, is your understanding so little enlightened, that you do not see the folly of such opinions? Since the time that Chaos melted together into plastic matter,--it may be a tolerably long time ago,--the spirit of the universe has formed all shapes out of this existing material, and from this come also dreams and their images. These images are sketches of what has been, or probably of what is yet to be, which the soul rapidly puts together for its amusement, when the tyrant, called body, has released it from its slavish servitude. But here is neither time nor place to refute you, and bring you to a better conviction; perhaps, too, it would be of no use whatever to you: one thing only I should like to explain."
"Dear master," cried Peregrine, "speak, or be silent, as you think proper; do what to you seems best; for I plainly perceive that, however small you may be, you have deep knowledge and sound understanding. You compel from me unconditional confidence, although I do not quite comprehend your figurative modes of speech."
"Learn then," resumed Master Flea, "that you are very strangely implicated in the history of the Princess Gamaheh. Swammerdamm and Leuwenhock, the Thistle, Zeherit, and the Leech-Prince, as well as the Genius, Thetel, are all striving after the princess; and even I myself must confess that, alas! my old passion is reviving, and I could be fool enough to share my sovereignty with the false fair-one. But you,--you, Mr. Peregrine, are the principal person, and, without your consent, Gamaheh can belong to no one. If you wish to understand the more particular connexion of the whole, which I myself do not know, you must speak to Leuwenhock about it; he has found it out, and will certainly let out much, if you will take the pains, and know how to question him."
Master Flea was about to continue, when a man leapt from the bushes in boiling passion, and flew upon Peregrine.
"Ha!" cried George Pepusch, with frantic gestures,--for it was he,--"Ha! faithless, treacherous friend! have I found you?--found you in the fateful hour? Up then! pierce this breast, or fall by my hand."
With this he drew a brace of pistols from his pocket, pressed one into Peregrine's hand, and took his ground with the other, crying, "Shoot, coward! shoot!"
Peregrine placed himself, but declared that nothing should induce him to the incurable madness of entering into a duel with his only friend, without even a suspicion of the cause. At all events he would in no case be the first to begin a murderous attack.
At this Pepusch burst into a wild laugh, and in the same moment the ball went through Peregrine's hat. The latter remained staring at his friend, in profound silence, without picking up the hat, which had fallen to the ground, when Pepusch advanced a few steps towards him, and murmured in a hollow voice, "shoot!"--Peregrine fired his pistol in the air.
With the voice and gestures of a madman, Pepusch now flung himself upon his friend's breast, and cried out, in heart-rending tones,--"She is dying! dying for you, unlucky one! Quick!--save her! You can do it--save her for yourself, and let me perish in my despair!"
Pepusch ran off so fast that Peregrine had lost sight of him on the instant; and now a fearful foreboding came over him, that his friend's mad behaviour must have been occasioned by something terrible which had happened to the little-one: whereupon he hastened back to the city.
On entering his house, he was met by the old woman, loudly lamenting that the poor princess was on the sudden taken violently ill, and was dying. Mr. Swammer himself had gone after the most celebrated physician in Frankfort.
With the feelings of death at his heart, he crept into Mr. Swammer's room that was opened to him by the old woman. There lay the little-one upon a sofa, pale and stiff like a corse; and it was not till he knelt down and bent over her that he perceived her gentle breathing. No sooner had he touched her icy hand, than a painful smile played about her lips, and she lisped,--
"Is it you, my sweet friend? Have you come to see her once again, who loves you so unspeakably,--who dies, alas! because she cannot breathe without you?"
Dissolving in sorrow, Peregrine poured himself forth in protestations of the tenderest love, and repeated, that nothing in the world was so dear to him that he would not sacrifice it to her. Out of words grew kisses, but in these kisses again words, like the breathings of love, were distinguishable.
"You know, my Peregrine, how much I love you. I can be yours; you, mine,--I can recover on the spot--you will see me bloom again in my youthful splendour, like a flower refreshed by the morning dew, and joyfully lifting up his drooping head--but--give me up the prisoner, my dear, beloved Peregrine, or else you will see me perish, before your eyes, in unutterable death-pangs.----Peregrine--I can no more--it is all over!"
With this she sank back upon the cushions, from which she had half raised herself; her bosom heaved tumultuously up and down, as if, in the death-pangs; her lips grew bluer, and her eyes seemed to break.
In wild anguish Peregrine caught at his neckcloth, from which Master Flea now leapt, of his own accord, upon the white neck of the little-one, exclaiming, in a tone of the deepest grief--"I am lost I!"
Peregrine stretched out his hand to catch the Master, but suddenly it seemed as if some invisible power held back his arm; and far other thoughts ran through his head than those which till now had occupied it.
"How!" thought he--"because you are a frail man, and influenced by a mad passion, will you therefore betray him, to whom you have promised your protection? Will you therefore plunge a free, harmless people into eternal slavery, and utterly ruin the friend whose thoughts and words agree?--No--no--recollect yourself, Peregrine!--Rather die than be a traitor!"
"Give--up--the prisoner--I am dying!" stammered the little one, with failing voice.
"No!" cried Peregrine, while in despair he caught her in his arms--"No! never! But let me die with you!"
And now a fine, penetrating harmony was heard, as if little silver bells were struck. Dörtje, with fresh roses on her lips and cheeks, started up suddenly from the sofa, and, breaking into a convulsive laughter, skipt about the chamber. She seemed to have been bit by the tarantula.
Peregrine gazed in terror on the strange spectacle, and the same did the physician, who stood at the door quite petrified, keeping out Mr. Swammer, who had followed him.