VI.
AFTER resting a few moments, Cristiano—we will hereafter call him Christian—continued his narrative as follows:
“But I must not forget to tell you of a well-known individual whom I happened to meet at this time; an interesting encounter that reconciled me for some days longer to my wandering life. The person to whom I refer is a very remarkable man, who still holds a most respectable position in Paris, and whose name is no doubt known to you: I mean Philip Ledru, commonly called Comus.”
“Certainly,” said M. Goefle; “I have seen it stated in my scientific journal that this skilful prestigiator was a profound physicist, and that his researches upon the magnet had enriched science with various new instruments of rare perfection. Is it the same person?”
“The same, M. Goefle. Comus has been appointed professor to the young French princes; he has prepared a set of nautical charts upon a new system, the result of an immense series of researches, undertaken by the king’s order, and has furnished M. de la Perouse with a set of manuscript copies of these charts. Indeed, ever since the time when I first encountered him travelling about the country, in the character of a poor but learned man, furnishing the public with instruction in the form of amusement, he has steadily and rapidly risen in the publicesteem, in the favor of the ministry, and in the command of means for making practical the results of his profound knowledge.
“I first met this really great man, not exactly in the public streets of Lyons, but in a hall intended for the representations of wandering performers, and which we both wished to hire for our several purposes. As I was used to a good deal of absurdity or else coarseness on the part of such competitors, I was quite on my guard; but as soon as Comus addressed me, I was struck by his charming and even distinguished manners. He was a man of about thirty-five years of age, and had a magnificent constitution. Equally vigorous in body and in mind, equally quick in his movements and ready and agreeable in conversation, he was, in a word, one of those admirably endowed human beings who must from necessity emerge from obscurity. He inquired about my employment, and seemed astonished to find that I was sufficiently educated to be able to converse with him. I told him about my circumstances, and he conceived a friendship for me.
“After coming to one of our performances, with which he was greatly diverted, he invited us, in his turn, to attend his exhibition. This I witnessed, much to my advantage, for Comus possessed various secrets known only to himself; which, however, consisted merely in some single application, out of a thousand, of his own profound discoveries. He was very willing to explain them to me, and finding that I was not without intelligence, he invited me to be his associate—to share with him his projects and adventures. I declined this proposition with regret, and to my own loss; with regret, because Comus was one of the best, the most disinterested, and the most sympathetic men I have ever known; and to my own loss, because, although then a travelling exhibitor in natural science, he was a person who could not fail before long to find some serious and useful employment for his great talents. I had sworn to Massarelli not to desert him, and he had no taste for the sciences.
“This meeting, which I was not wise enough to turn to account as far as regards my material interests, was so beneficial to me in a moral point of view, that I shall always thank God for it. Allow me to repeat to you, as briefly as possible, the advice which this judicious and excellent man was so kind as to give me—in the pleasantest and most friendly way, and without a tinge of pedantry—during a quiet supper that we took together at the inn, amongst the chests that contained our baggage; for we were ready to start on the next morning.
“‘My dear Goffredi,’ he said, ‘I am sorry to part with you so soon; the grief that you feel I share with my whole heart. We have been together only for a few days, but in that time I have learned to know and to appreciate you. But do not be uneasy or discouraged about your future life. It will be prosperous, if it is useful. You see that my advice is very different from what is usually given; but, if you follow it, you will find that it is dictated by sound common sense. Others will tell you to sacrifice everything to ambition; I tell you to give all your true interests precedence before ambition—as it is commonly understood. I mean to say this: be perfectly indifferent both to fortune and fame, and pursue only one single object, that of enlightening your fellow-men, no matter by what means, and no matter in what condition they may be. All means are good and noble which seek this end. You are only a buffoon, and I am only a sorcerer! Very good; we will laugh at our pursuits, and persevere in them, as long as the marionettes and the juggling can be made subservient to good ends. What I tell you now is the secret of being happy in spite of everything. For my part, I understand only two principles, and these constitute but one and the same precept: to love mankind, and to take no account of their prejudices. Contempt for error is esteem for man, is it not? Possessed of this secret, you will always be sufficiently rich and sufficiently famous. As for the lost time that you have been regretting, you are quite young enough to make up for it. I, also, at one time, was a little frivolous; a little vain of my youth, a little proud of mystrength! But, after wasting rather foolishly my patriotism and enthusiasm in the flower of my age, I retrieved my errors, and since then have advanced steadily. My organization is vigorous, and so is yours. I work twelve hours a day, and any one can do as much who is not feeble or ill. Apply yourself to study, and leave silly minds to seek after pleasure. They will not find it where they look for it, and you will find it where it is; that is, in a quiet conscience and the exercise of your nobler faculties!’
“Having thus spoken, Comus divided his receipts into two different sums, the one large and the other small: the latter he kept for himself; but the former he sent as a gift to the hospitals of the city. I was very much struck with the simplicity and cheerfulness with which he made this disposition of his money, as if performing an habitual and indispensable duty, and one so natural that it did not even occur to him to conceal it. I reproached myself also for having forgotten for so long a time the precepts and examples of my dear friends, the Goffredis; for all that M. Comus said and did reminded me of them. Thus it was, M. Goefle, that a wandering juggler preached to and converted a highway improvisatore.
“We reached Paris after a journey that had lasted three months, and which I recall as one of the most agreeable experiences of my life. I had not wasted my time on the road, for I had studied carefully both nature and society, as far as they were accessible to one who, without claiming remarkable perspicacity, is not more obtuse than his neighbors. I had taken notes, and fancied, since I had something to say and felt competent to say it, that I would have no sort of difficulty in living by my pen in the centre of letters and of arts.
“It was a sombre and melancholy autumn day when we entered the great city. I found it hard to imagine that any one could become accustomed to such a climate, and Guido, from the very first, showed visible signs of gloom and discouragement. We hired a miserable little furnished room at a very high rate, and having taken possession, we adjustedour toilettes somewhat, dismantled our theatre, and locked theburattiniin a box. It was our purpose to sell the establishment to some mountebank; and for a few days we devoted ourselves to studying the language, and visiting the monuments, exhibitions, and curiosities of the French metropolis.
“At the end of eight days our little capital was sadly diminished, and the worst of it was that I could see no means of renewing it. I found that my hopes had deceived me, or rather that I had not formed a true conception of what a really great city is, and of the frightful isolation into which a stranger, without means, friends, or recommendations, almost necessarily falls. I inquired about Comus, hoping that he would help me to find employment, but he had not yet returned from his tour, and, moreover, he had at that time only a provincial reputation. I sent also for the papers of Silvio Goffredi, proposing, by means of them, to publish under his name the results of his historical researches. I did not expect any pecuniary profit to accrue from this effort, but I hoped both to fulfil a duty and to secure an honorable position and a few friends. There were still several persons in Italy who retained their former regard for me. They sent the papers at my request, but the parcel was lost; it never reached me. My letters to the cardinal and to my young pupil remained unanswered, and others to whom I wrote confined themselves to empty professions of regard, but without venturing to commit themselves so far as to recommend me to such persons of good standing of my own nation as happened to be in Paris. Indeed, they advised me not to draw upon myself the observation of our ambassador, lest he should feel it his duty (he was a relative of Marco Melfi) to obtain alettre de cachetfrom the king of France for my benefit.
“As soon as I realized what my position was, I resolved to rely upon myself alone; and you may rest assured, Monsieur Goefle, that I deserve some credit for maintaining my integrity under such circumstances; so abandoned, and reduced to such cruel straits in a city so luxuriousand full of temptations as Paris! Only a short time before I had been living under a splendid sky; a guest in palaces! Then, a careless traveller, I had wandered through enchanted lands; but now I was the gloomy and dejected tenant of a garret, struggling with cold, famine, and sometimes with disgust and discouragement. And yet, thanks to God, I came through victorious; that is to say, I did not cheat anybody, and did not die of starvation. I succeeded in having a few little books published, and though I did not make any money by them, they gave me something of a position in a small circle of humble and modest men of science. I had the honor of furnishing, indirectly, the materials for a number of articles in the Encyclopedia, on natural science and on Italian antiquities. A marquis of literary taste employed me as his secretary, and clothed me decently; and so I was once more afloat. If dress is not everything in Paris, it is safe to say, at least, that a respectable exterior is indispensable to one who would escape from poverty. Now, thanks to my marquis and my coat, society was once more open to me. This was another dangerous rock, and I once more risked being shipwrecked. Pray do not think me conceited if I say that it would have been much more to my advantage in some respects, if I had been as ugly and as awkward as your friend Stangstadius. A good-looking man without means, in society as it is now constituted, will everywhere find a door open to fortune—and to shame. No matter how circumspect he may be, he is sure to find himself pursued at every step by the eager and determined women of gallantry who swarm in great cities. Had I not been protected by the memory of the chaste and proud Sophia, I might probably have suffered myself to be enticed into the labyrinths of these insinuating and industrious animals.
“However, I overcame this danger; but after a year’s residence in Paris, at the very moment when, thanks to my labor and economy, I was in a fair way to receive an independent position, I was seized with an extreme disgust for the city, and an unconquerable longing to travel Massarelli was the chief cause of this disgust. He hadnot, like myself, been able to endure the privations and anguish of waiting. When we first began to be embarrassed, he carried off the theatre of marionettes from our lodging, and tried to earn a living in the public streets, amongst a class of people of the very worst sort. Unfortunately for him, he had not taken much pains to correct his accent, and he had no success. So he fell upon my hands again, and for several months, while I was in the greatest difficulties myself, I was obliged to feed and clothe him. At last, in spite of his constantly renewed oaths of reformation, and his efforts to work with me, he disappeared. But still, I did not get rid of him after all. Every few weeks he came to beg from me, and sometimes he was intoxicated. I shut the door in his face, but he dogged me about. At last, having contrived to make a little money, by means of various infamous transactions, he came once more, drunken and repentant, to weep in my bosom; he wanted now to return all that I had given him, and, moreover, to share with melike a brother! His money and his protestations disgusted me equally, and I refused all overtures. He lost his temper, and wanted to fight, but this I contemptuously refused. Then he undertook to strike me, and I was obliged to give him a beating. Next day he wrote to ask my forgiveness, but my patience was at an end; and as I used to meet him everywhere, sometimes even in good society—God only knows how he gained admission there—I was apprehensive of being compromised by some knavish act upon his part. I had not the selfish fortitude to expose publicly a man who had once been dear to me; and preferred rather to give up the conflict, and retreat myself. Fortunately, I was now able secure good recommendations, and, among others, those of Comus, who was just then creating a great excitement in Paris with his exhibitions in catoptrics—that is, a phantasmagoria managed by mirrors, in which, instead of spectres and devils, he showed nothing but agreeable and graceful figures. His remarkable intellect, and his habits of penetrating observation, had given him such a power of judging thefaces of men, and such a knowledge of the human heart, that he could read people’s very thoughts, almost as if endowed with an actual gift of divination. Moreover, his profound studies in applied mathematics enabled him to solve, while apparently merely performing diverting and ingenious feats, various problems entirely beyond the comprehension of ordinary people, and this skill many persons likened to magic.
“The age we live in is remarkably intelligent, and yet the love of the marvellous—a sentiment offering a singular contrast to its other tendencies, so powerful and ill-regulated in the past—still struggles in many minds against the severer authority of reason. You know something about this in your country, where your famous and learned Swedenborg is still more sought for as a sorcerer than as a seer; while he himself claimed to understand the secrets of another world. I do not say that Comus is more sincere or more virtuous than Swedenborg, who I know must be mentioned with entire respect, but he has more wisdom and earnestness of purpose. He does not pretend to act in virtue of any other laws than those which the human mind can discover; and he is generous in communicating his secrets to scientific men and travellers, who desire to utilize them in the cause of science.
“He received me with great kindness, and offered to take me with him to England, to assist him in his experiments. I was strongly tempted to accept, but my preferences led me to apply myself to mineralogy, botany, and zoology; and also to the study of manners and of societies. It seemed to me that England had been too thoroughly explored to furnish a promising field for new observations. And besides, Comus was at that time devoted to a special pursuit in which I did not think I could be useful to him. He was going to London to superintend personally the making of some very accurate instruments which he had not been able to have manufactured to his satisfaction in Paris. I did not like the idea of remaining for a year, or two years, in London; I was tired of living in a great city; I felt a violent longing forfreedom, movement, above all for the privilege of being my own master. Though I had every reason to be pleased with my employers up to this time, I was so ill-suited to a dependent position that it really made me ill.
“Comus introduced me to a great many eminent men; such as MM. de Lacépède, Buffon, Daubenton, and Bernard de Jussieu. I took a lively interest in the rapid and magnificent progress of the Jardin des Plantes, and the zoölogical cabinet, which were daily being directed and enriched by these noble and learned men. Splendid gifts from wealthy persons in a private station in life, and the precious contributions of travellers, were constantly being sent to them. An irresistible ambition seized me to enroll myself in the number of these promoters of science; these humble adepts, satisfied with benefiting humanity, without demanding either glory or profit. I saw, indeed, the ‘tall man with ruffles,’ M. de Buffon, appropriating extensively, for the gratification of his vanity, the patient and modest labors of his associates. But suppose it is true that he had this weakness, that he wished to beM. le Comte, and to exert the feudal rights of his seigniory; that he sounded his own praises on every occasion, and claimed the credit of works, which, very frequently, he had only been consulted about;—what mattered it? This was his taste. It was not that of his generous and intellectual companions. They smiled, let him say what he pleased, and only worked the harder; fully persuaded that individual interests are of no real importance in researches directed towards the advancement of the human species. Thus they were happier than he; their happiness was that which Comus understood, and to which I aspired. It seemed to me that they had chosen the better part, and I was ambitious to follow in their steps. I offered them my services, therefore, after profiting to the best of my ability by their public lectures and private conversations. M. Daubenton was of opinion that my love of science and aptitude for the languages were qualities that would insure my success, and that I ought to be encouraged. My povertywas the only obstacle.
“‘Science is growing rich,’ he said proudly, as he looked at the cabinet and garden, which were so rapidly increasing; ‘but scientific men are rather too poor to be great travellers. Indeed, they live lives of privation in every respect. You must be prepared for that.’
“I was prepared for everything. I had succeeded in saving a little money, which, in my judgment, would go a great way, considering the frugal sort of life from which I did not shrink. I secured a regular appointment to a scientific mission, so as to avoid being taken for a vagrant or a spy in foreign countries, and set out provided with a year’s support, and leaving the rest to Providence. And yet with the testimonials I carried, proving the innocent and honorable aim of my wandering life, I should have been able to obtain more or less pecuniary assistance from scientific bodies, and even from private individuals friendly to science. But I was unwilling to make any such demands, for I knew how greatly the Jussieu family had impoverished itself in sacrifices of the kind, and I preferred to devote myself exclusively at my own risk and peril.
“Thus, once more, began for me a series of happy days. The time before me seemed infinite!—it would last, at least, as long as my resources. This was not saying a great deal; and to prolong my journey, and fully satisfy my passion for travelling, I practised, from the outset, the strictest economy. At my very first stopping-place, I put on a stout, coarse, mountain costume, bought an ass to carry the little baggage that I had, my books, instruments, and specimens, and proceeded on foot to the Swiss mountains. I will not dwell upon my labors, journeys and adventures. Whenever I have leisure, I intend to write an account of my travels; and even the recent loss of my journal will not be an insurmountable obstacle, thanks to my uncommonly good memory. In these solitary expeditions I recovered my excellent health, my careless ease, my confidence in the future, my natural gayety; all the qualities that my life in Paris had been gradually destroying. I felt that I was inharmony with the memory of the Goffredis—that I was happy.
“My knowledge of botany and mineralogy was sufficient to enable me to execute what I had promised in these two specialties; and moreover, as I wasted no time in social indulgences, I had leisure to gratify my inclinations as an observer, and somewhat also as an artist and poet—that is, a person who feels the divine unity of the beauty of nature. At each important stopping-place I forwarded reports, and even specimens, to Paris, and I wrote long letters to M. Daubenton, well knowing that the romantic impressions of a young man would not be displeasing to him.
“At the end of nine or ten months, I had reached the Carpathians, still accompanied by my ass, whom I found of the greatest service, and who was so docile and well trained to follow me everywhere, that he was never in my way. Just at this time, in a remote and lonely place, I met a beggar with a long beard, who was no other than Guido Massarelli. Divided between disgust and pity, I was hesitating whether to speak to him, when he recognized me, and approached with an aspect so humble and dejected, that pity carried the day. I was happy myself at that time, and therefore kindly disposed. Seated on the grass in a grove of tall trees, I was eating with a good appetite, while my ass was grazing a few steps off. To enable him to rest better, I had taken off his load, and had placed the pannier containing my provisions for the day between my knees. There was not much in it, but enough for two. Massarelli looked pale and feeble, as if dying of hunger.
“‘Sit down,’ I said, ‘and eat. I am quite certain it is through your own fault that you have been brought into this miserable condition, but it shall never be said that I did not help you once more.’
“He proceeded to tell his adventures, whether true or false, acknowledging his faults in words of a base humility, and yet, in fact, always excusing himself, by attributing them to the ingratitude or harshness of others. I could only pity him for being what he was;and after half an hour’s conversation, I gave him a few ducats and resumed my journey. We were going in opposite directions, to my great satisfaction; but I had not advanced a quarter of an hour when I was seized with a vertigo that obliged me to stop, overcome with weariness and a desire to sleep. I could not comprehend what had brought on this sudden indisposition, for I had never had such an attack in my whole life; and, having shared my bottle with Guido, I had scarcely drunk a glass of wine. I supposed that it might be a sort of sun-stroke, or was perhaps the effect of a poor night’s sleep at the inn where I had stopped. At any rate, I laid down in the shade to take a nap. This may have been imprudent in a place so extremely solitary, but it was absolutely impossible for me to do otherwise; I was overcome by a heavy and irresistible drowsiness, like that of intoxication.
“When I awoke, my head was still heavy and vacant, and in fact I was feeling extremely ill; I was in the same place, but had been robbed of everything. I thought at first that it was the evening twilight, and that I had been asleep six hours; but when I saw the sun rising through the fog, and the dew glittering on the grass, the certainty was forced upon me that I had slept straight through a day and night. My ass had disappeared as well as my baggage, my pockets were empty; nothing had been left but the clothes on my back. While looking about, I observed one valueless object which the thieves had overlooked, or thought not worth taking. This was a little cocoa-nut cup which I always used in travelling, to avoid the vulgar habit of drinking from a bottle. It was this squeamishness that had cost me so dear; at a moment when my back was turned, Guido had thrown a narcotic into my cup. Even now, the bottom was lined with some kind of salt, crystallized. Guido was evidently no beggar, but the captain of a band of robbers. The footmarks all around me showed that a number of persons had been on the spot.
“I examined the immediate vicinity closely, and at last espiedsomething written with chalk upon a rock near by. It was in Latin, and to the following effect:
“‘My friend, I could have killed you, and it was my duty to do so; but I pardon you. Sleep well.’
“It was the handwriting of Guido Massarelli. Why was it his duty to have killed me? In return for the blows I had given him with my cane at Paris? That is possible, for it is certainly true that the Italian retains his revengeful disposition, and never forgets an injury, even when his mind and character have been utterly corrupted. But what could I do to revenge myself in my turn? There was nothing that would not require time, money, and investigation, and I was without a sou, and was beginning to feel hungry.
“‘Well,’ I thought, as I set out once more on my journey, ‘it was written that one day or other I should beg. But in spite of bad luck, I swear that I will not be a beggar long. I must find some new business, and get on my feet again.’
“I made my way out of the mountains, and found a hospitable reception with a family of kind peasants, who even obliged me to accept some provisions for the road. They told me that a band of robbers infested the country, and that their chief was called the ‘The Italian.’
“Still pushing on, I reached the province of Silesia. It was my intention to enter a complaint in the first town I came to, and put the authorities on the track of the robbers. As I walked along, thoughtful, and absorbed in a thousand plans, all equally impracticable, for once more filling my purse without appealing to public charity, I heard a short, uneven gallop behind me, and, turning round, was astonished to recognize my ass, my poor Jean, coming after me as well as he could, for he was wounded. People usually despise the ass! They are welcome to do so; but this animal, in my opinion, is almost as intelligent as the dog. I had already had many convincing proofs that it is so, while travelling with this faithful servant; and, on this occasion, he showed that he was capable of feeling a reasonable attachment, and was endowed with a mysterious and truly extraordinary instinct. Stolenand carried off, he had undoubtedly run away, as soon as he had been relieved of his load. The robbers had fired on him, but he had kept on, disregarding their shots; he had found and followed my track, and now rejoined me with a bullet in his thigh.
“I confess that we had a scene worthy of Sancho Panza and his ass; nay, even more pathetic, for I had a wounded friend to assist. I extracted the ball which had lodged in the thigh of my interesting companion, and washed the wound with the most touching care. The poor beast submitted to be treated and bandaged with the stoicism of his own species, and with an intelligent confidence that is apparently not confined to ours. Now that I had recovered my ass, I was not entirely without resources. When the ball was extracted, he stopped limping. He was an uncommonly handsome animal, large and strong, and would be worth—. But I did not go so far as to embody in precise figures this cowardly and detestable idea! To my honor, I would state that I rejected it with indignation. There could be no question of selling my friend; the only problem was to feed two stomachs instead of one.
“I advanced towards Troppau as I best could. Jean ate thistles along the road, and I deprived myself of part of my allowance of bread, so as to supply him with a delicacy in his convalescence. At Troppau the common people took pity on me, and provided me with food and lodging, with that charity which is so highly valued and so meritorious among the poor. The authorities of the town gave but little credit to my story. My coarse garments were those of a pedestrian, and I had no documents whatever to prove that I was a person of studious pursuits, and entitled to confidence. I talked well, it is true: too well for a rustic; but these frontier countries are overrun by innumerable dexterous adventurers. Only a little while before, they informed me, an Italian, claiming to be a great nobleman, had given out that he had been robbed in the mountains, and it was afterwards discovered that hewas the chief of the very band he had pretended to denounce.
“I thought it best not to press the matter; for, from the recollection of Guido Massarelli, to the suspicion that I was associated with him, there was but a step. So I returned to my poor entertainers. They received me very kindly, blamed the conduct of their magistrates, and looking covetously at Jean, added:
“‘Fortunately your ass is left, and you can sell him.’
“Seeing that I was not inclined to take their hint, they proceeded to make me a proposition, in the guise of advice. I might remain with them, they said, for two or three months, if I could be contented with their way of living. During this time I could look for work, if there was anything I was able to do; and if I could pay my expenses at the end of the term agreed upon, I would not be obliged to leave Jean as an equivalent. This was good advice, and I accepted it; resolving, however, that I would dig in the earth, if necessary, so as to release my pledge, poor Jean, who was still useful to his master.
“My landlord was a shoemaker. In order to show that I was not idle, I asked whether I could help him in any way, though I did not know his trade.
“‘I see that you are a good fellow,’ he said, ‘for you have an honest face. There’s a fair to-morrow in a village two leagues from here, to which I shall not be able to go. Load your ass with my goods, go in my stead, and sell all the shoes you can. You shall have ten per cent. of the profits.’
“The next morning I was at my post selling shoes, as if I had never done nothing else in my whole life. I knew nothing at all about the tricks peculiar to this sort of business, whether conducted on a small or grand scale, but it occurred to me to pay all the women compliments on their little feet; and the people were so amused by my extravagant nonsense, that my entire load was disposed of in a few hours. In the evening I returned gayly home to my employer, who was surprised at my success, and obstinately refused to let me deduct the price of my board from my share of the profits.
“Once more, therefore, I was provided with a trade, and a supply of pocket-money sufficient for the necessities of my new position. Hans, my employer, now sent me on a three days’ tour through the neighborhood, and I succeeded in selling off some old stock that had been on his hands a long time. On my return, he paid me more than he had agreed, but when I said something about leaving him, he flew into a tremendous passion, and then shed tears; he treated me, in short, like an ungrateful son, and ended by offering to give me his daughter in marriage, if I would remain. The girl was pretty, and threw me artless and tender glances. I behaved like a fool, or so my former gay companions would have said. It is certain that I did not even attempt to kiss her, and that I made my escape in the night, taking with me Jean and two rix dollars, and leaving an equal sum behind me to pay my board at the house of the good shoemaker of Troppau.
“It was quite indifferent to me where I went, provided only that I could obtain sufficient means to continue my journey without being obliged to confide to the persons in the various towns of Germany and Poland to whom I had brought letters of introduction, a story of disaster, of which I could furnish no proof, except my destitution. The suspicions of the burgomasters of Troppau had cured me of the idea of relating my misfortunes. My testimonials were lost, and I had nothing but probable assertions with which to replace them. Now, no story ever seems probable when you are asking assistance. However, this did not make me at all unhappy. I was already accustomed to my situation, and had one more occasion in my life to observe that to-morrow always comes for those who have patience with to-day.
“Two days later, I entered a poor tavern, and sat down at a table. Opposite me was a short, strong-built young fellow, who was seated with his elbows leaning on the table, and who seemed to be asleep. They brought me a pot of beer and some bread and cheese, for which I paid a half-zwanziger. On this allowance I had money enough to last eight days. When the landlady spoke to the young man at the other side ofthe table he made no reply, and a little after, as he raised his head, I saw that he had been crying.
“‘You are hungry,’ I said to him, ‘and have no money to pay for your supper.’
“‘Fact!’ he answered, laconically.
“‘Very well,’ I replied, ‘where there’s enough for one, there’s enough for two. Help yourself.’
“Without answering a word, he drew a knife from his pocket and cut into my bread and cheese. When he had eaten in silence, he thanked me briefly, and with an appearance of sincerity, and I had the curiosity to ask him the cause of his distress. He told me his name—I forget what it was—but the name he was travelling under was Puffo. He was from Leghorn—a rather poor recommendation, at least in Italy, for persons of a certain class. In the opinion of the sailors all along the Mediterranean coast, to call a man aLivorneseis almost equivalent to calling him a pirate. My friend probably would have justified the prejudice; he had been a sailor, and a little of a freebooter. At present he was a strolling mountebank.
“I listened to him without much interest, for he did not narrate well, and it is only the way in which they are told that gives any value to the stories of such adventurers; in substance they are all pretty much the same. However, when this man began to speak about his unprofitable theatre, I pricked up my ears and asked him what sort of representations he gave.
“‘Mon Dieu!’ he cried, ‘that’s the kind, and it’s the worst business I ever had anything to do with. The devil take the man who put it into my head!’
“As he spoke, he pulled a marionette from his bag, and threw it angrily on the table.
“An exclamation of surprise escaped me. This marionette, frightfully dirty and worn out, was my own handiwork. It was aburattinoof my own make! Yes, indeed, it was my leading character, the chief of my company, my own witty and charming Stentarello, the ornament of all my performances in the towns of the Apennines, the darling of the prettyGenoese women, the child of my scissors and my fancy, the very pillar of my theatre.
“‘What!’ I cried, ‘you wretched fellow! You own Stentarello, and can’t make money with him?’
“‘They told me,’ he replied, ‘that he had made a great deal of money in Italy. The man who sold him to me in Paris said that he had bought him of a well-dressed Italian gentleman, who declared that he had made his fortune with him. Perhaps it was you?’
“He went on to say that he had been quite successful in France in the public streets with our theatre and actors; and that as he knew several languages, he had tried travelling abroad, but that fortune had deserted him; he had gone on from bad to worse, up to the very moment when I met him. He had now resolved to sell ‘the shop,’ as he called it, and to try and train a bear, which he intended to catch in the mountains.
“‘Come,’ said I, ‘show me your theatre, and let me see what you can do.’
“He accordingly took me to a barn, where I helped him set up his establishment; and I recognized the best members of my troupe among wretched ordinary marionettes, covered with rags and injuries. Puffo proceeded to play me a scene as a specimen of his powers. He manœuvred theburattinidexterously enough, and was not without a certain coarse wit, but it really pained me to the heart to see my actors fallen into such hands, and reduced to playing such parts. But when I thought about it, I saw that Providence must have brought us together—myself and my actors—for our mutual good. I proceeded at once to give a representation in the village, and received in all a ducat for it, to the utter stupefaction of Puffo, who from that moment entirely abandoned to my guidance theatre, actors, and even the responsibility of his own destiny.
“I now felt that I was really under the protection of heaven, for I had found once more the means of prosecuting my travels with comfort, without incurring any indebtedness, and without exposing my name and my features to the caprice of the public. In a very few days all themarionettes were dismounted, cleaned, fresh painted, new clothed, and properly packed in a convenient and portable chest; the theatre was refitted in like manner, and enlarged to admit two operators. Puffo I engaged as an assistant, his duty being to keep the establishment in good order, to take charge of it, and, at the same time, to carry part of it on his stout shoulders, as he was already in the habit of doing; for I was more than ever determined to devote Jean to the service of science, and to employ him in carrying the materials and specimens which I was collecting.
“Puffo is certainly a poor assistant. He is slow-witted, and yet he never breaks down; for he has the gift of talking without saying anything. He has a bad accent in every language; but, at any rate, he can make himself understood in several, which is a great point, and his chief recommendation. In the dialogue he takes but little part, but I have succeeded in curing him of his coarse habit of swearing. I put into his hands the popular, low comedy scenes, which serve as interludes, to give me a few minutes’ rest. When three or four actors are on the stage, I make use of his hands, and carry on all the parts of the conversation myself, with sufficient skill to persuade the audience that they are listening to several different voices. But you have seen my performances, M. Goefle, and know that I succeed in amusing. However, we did nothing very remarkable in Germany, and it occurred to me that perhaps we should do better in Poland, for the Poles have the wit of the French and the taste of Italians. We accordingly traversed Poland, and at Dantzig, after a successful tour of six weeks, embarked for Stockholm, where we have done extremely well. It was while there that I received the invitation of the Baron de Waldemora. I accepted it with pleasure, knowing that it would enable me to see a country which I have found more interesting than any that I have hitherto visited. I have always loved the north, whether from the strong contrasts which it offers to southern countries, or from a patriotic instinct that has influenced me ever since my childhood. And yet nothing is less certain than the northern origin which wasattributed to my childish language—altered, imperfectly spoken, or half-forgotten as it was—by the learned philologist to whom I have referred. No matter; whether dream or presentiment, I have always beheld in imagination the romantic country which is now before my eyes; and it was by way of affording myself a pleasure-trip that I lengthened my present journey. I came across Lake Malar, and thence down to Lake Wetter, so as to explore the whole region of the great lakes.
“It was, however, written that I was to be pursued by mishaps. Puffo, who has grown fat since I have supported him, and who is beginning to be afraid of fatigue, wanted to hire a sleigh to cross that mysterious Lake Wetter, whose depths are apparently troubled by volcanic disturbances. The ice broke in, and I lost my clothes and my money. Fortunately, Puffo was at that moment walking, and helped out the driver, but the horse and sleigh were lost. Fortunately also, I had followed the shore, with Jean, the theatre, my actors, and my scientific materials. So, thank heaven, all is not lost, and to-morrow I shall be in funds again, for I am to give a representation, for a sum agreed upon, at the chateau of the Snow Man.”
“Well,” said M. Goefle, as he once more took the hand of Christian Waldo, “your story has interested and amused me. I don’t know whether you told it with any particular pleasure, to yourself, but your quick way of talking while you walked about the room, your Italian gesticulation, and your face, which is certainly expressive and prepossessing, whatever country it may belong to, have made your recital very attractive. You have a fine mind and an excellent heart, and the faults of which you accuse yourself seem to me very trifling, compared with the evil courses into which you might easily have fallen, thrown, as you were, so early into the world, without advisers or resources, and with a handsome face, too—which is a real instrument of perdition for either sex, in a place so corrupt as Paris or Naples.”
“But do you believe, Monsieur Goefle, that society is more moral or pure here at the north? I should be pleased to think that such is thecase, but what I have seen at Stockholm—”
“Ah, my dear boy! if you judge of us by the intrigues, vanity, violence, and infamous venality of our nobility, whether of the cap or hat faction, you will believe us the very last of all the nations in the universe. This would be wrong, however, for as a people we are really good. It only needs a revolution, or a considerable war, to bring to the surface our great qualities—the particles of pure gold sunk to the bottom. Just now you see only the froth on the surface. But to return to yourself: you have not explained to me about your residence in Stockholm. How is it, in a place so full of intrigue and distrust, that you could wear a mask, and yet escape annoyance from the three or four different police organizations that are at work for the different parties?”
“Because I do not wear a mask, as you can see very well for yourself, Monsieur Goefle; it would be very troublesome to do that, and as soon as I am a hundred steps away from my booth, it is easy enough, with a little adroitness, and a few very simple precautions against the observation of the inquisitive, to remove it, and go with my face uncovered. I am not important enough to make anybody very determined to see me, and the slight mystery that I keep up does a good deal towards maintaining my popularity. And, after all, I have not so far retained my prejudices as a society man, that I should be much distressed to have my mask fall off some day in the street, and to be recognized by a chance passenger as a very obscure adept of science, who occupies himself about his studies at other hours, and in other portions of the city.”
“Ah! that is just what you have not told me. When you are at Stockholm you have, on occasion, another name than Christian Waldo, and another lodging besides that where Jean and Puffo live, and the rest of your troupe in their boxes?”
“Exactly, Monsieur Goefle. As to the name—do you really want to know it?”
“Certainly I do. You do not distrust me?”
“Oh, if you are afraid of that, I comply at once, with pleasure. Thename is only Dulac—the French for my original fanciful name of del Lago. I assumed it at Paris, as a precaution against any accident which might draw upon me the notice and vengeance of the Neapolitan ambassador.”
“Very good. And under that name you have succeeded in establishing good connections in Stockholm?”
“I have hardly tried to do so, as I did not feel any need of haste. I wanted, in the first place, to become acquainted with the scientific and artistic riches of the city, and then to study the physiognomy of the inhabitants as well as their tastes and customs. A stranger, without friends, finds it extremely easy to study the manners and prevailing sentiments of a people by haunting their places of public resort. This is the method I adopted, and my present purpose is to become familiar with the whole of Sweden, and then to put myself in communication with the leading men of science at Stockholm and Upsal, especially M. Linnæus. By that time I must receive the testimonials for which I have written to Paris, and, at any rate, shall perhaps have something of interest to submit to that illustrious man. I may find specimens in distant localities that he has overlooked, and be able to afford him pleasure by offering them to him. There is no journey in which useful discoveries, or useful observations upon matters already recorded, may not be made. When a young man visits a great master, he is bound to bring tribute from his studies or his explorations; otherwise he only occupies valuable time in the mere gratification of his own vanity or curiosity. You said something about the police: they let me entirely alone after one brisk examination, in which my answers were frank, and seemed quite satisfactory. The good people with whom I lodged, and who treated me as kindly as if I were one of their own family, readily guaranteed my good conduct, and kept from the public the little secret of my double individuality. So you see, Monsieur Goefle, that at present I am excellently situated, and may well feel in very good spirits, having command of my own movements, a sufficientlyprofitable occupation, the love of science, and all the world open before me!”
“But you lost your money in Lake Wetter—”
“Oh, but the lakes, Monsieur Goefle, are certainly inhabited by good spirits, with whom I am in relations, without knowing it. Am I not Christiandel Lago? Either the troll of Lake Wetter will return me my purse when I am least expecting it, or he will see that it comes into the hands of some poor fisherman, who will have the good of it, so that it will be a capital arrangement any way.”
“But still,—have you any money in your pocket, my boy?”
“Absolutely nothing, Monsieur Goefle,” replied the young man, laughing. “I had exactly enough to get here, by pinching my own stomach a little, so as to allow my attendant and my ass all they wanted; but I am to receive thirty six dollars this evening for my performance; and after enjoying this capital breakfast in company with yourself and this excellent stove, and in sight of the splendid landscape all set with diamonds, that I see shining out yonder, through the smoke with which our pipes have filled the room, I feel myself the richest and most fortunate of men.”
“You are decidedly an original,” said M. Goefle, rising, and knocking the ashes from his pipe. “You are a singular mixture of the man and the child, the scientist and the adventurer. It even seems to me that you are extravagantly enjoying this last phase of your experience; and that instead of finding it disagreeable, you are making your assumed and rather exaggerated pride an excuse for protracting it.”
“Permit me, Monsieur Goefle,” answered Christian; “in the matter of pride there is no middle course; it must be everything or nothing. I have tried poverty, and I know how easy it is, in poverty, to become degraded. One who is left to depend entirely upon his own resources, must therefore accustom himself not to fear poverty; he must even know how to make it a source of amusement. I have told you how it distressed me to be poor in a great city. There, among temptations ofevery kind, such a position is very dangerous to a man who is young and vigorous, and who has known what it is to be carried away by passion. Here, on the contrary, on my travels, that is to say, at liberty, and protected by an incognito which will allow me to-morrow to assume a respectable position in society, I feel as gay as a school-boy in vacation; and I confess that I am in no haste to assume again the chains of constraint and the annoyances of conventionality.”
“After all, I understand it,” said the doctor. “My imagination is not duller than other people’s; and I can easily conceive that there is a romantic pleasure in such a wandering, careless life. Yet you are fond of society. It was not for the sake of investigating the frozen mountains at midnight that you borrowed my dress suit.”
At this moment the door opened, and Ulphilas, to whom M. Goefle had no doubt given orders, came to say that the horse and sleigh were ready. Ulph seemed quite sober.
“What!” cried the doctor with surprise, “what time is it? Noon? It is impossible! That old clock has gone crazy! But no,” he continued, looking at his watch, “it is noon, really; and I must go and consult with the baron over the great lawsuit, on account of which I have come here. It surprises me, by the way, since he knows I am here, that he should not have thought fit to send before now and inquire after me!”
“But his lordship, the baron, did send,” said Ulph; “did I not tell you, M. Goefle?”
“Not at all.”
“He sent an hour ago, to say that he was ill last night, or that he would have come himself—”
“Here? You exaggerate the baron’s politeness, my dear Ulph. The baron never comes to Stollborg!”
“Very seldom, Monsieur Goefle; but—”
“Well, well! And father Stenson—is there no way of seeing him? I must make the good old gentleman a little visit before I go over to the chateau. Is he as deaf as ever?”
“A great deal more so, Monsieur Goefle; he will not hear a single word you say.”
“Well, then, I will talk by signs.”
“But, Monsieur Goefle, the fact is my uncle don’t know you are here.”
“Ah, he doesn’t? Well, he will find it out.”
“He will scold me terribly for not having told him, and for having allowed you—”
“To do what? To lodge in this room, I suppose? Very well; tell him that I took possession without asking your permission.”
“Only imagine,” added M. Goefle, in French, to Christian, “that we are here unlawfully, and without the knowledge of M. Stenson, the overseer of the old chateau. And another very strange thing is, that the said Monsieur Sten, as well as his estimable nephew here present, are so convinced that the old ruin is haunted by unhappy and malevolent spirits, that they are very reluctant to live here at all.”
As he said this, M. Goefle’s smiling face became serious all at once, as if, though in the habit of laughing at such things, he really was reproaching himself for doing so; and he abruptly asked Christian if he believed in apparitions.
“Yes—in hallucinations,” replied Christian, without hesitation.
“Ah! Have you ever seen any, then?”
“Sometimes—in a fever, or under some powerful mental preoccupation. In the latter case they were not so distinct as in the fever, and I could see that it was an illusion; but the appearances made a sufficient impression upon me to trouble me a good deal.”
“Just so—exactly so!” cried M. Goefle. “Well, only imagine—but I’ll tell you this evening; there’s no time now. I must go, my friend; I shall go and see the baron. He will perhaps detain me to dinner—at two o’clock. But in any event I will return as soon as possible. Ah, by the way—will you do me a service during my absence?”
“Two—three, if you wish, Monsieur Goefle; what is it?”
“To take my valet-de-chambre up out of his bed.”
“To wake him, you mean?”
“No, no! To take him up, to put on his clothes, button his gaiters, put him into his breeches; they are very tight, and he is not strong enough—”
“Oh, I understand; some old servant—an old friend, ill, or infirm?”
“No, not exactly. Stay, here he is! What a miracle! He has dressed himself all alone! Very well done, Master Nils! Why, you are improving! Up at noon, and dressed yourself! Haven’t you fatigued yourself too much?”
“No, Monsieur Goefle,” said the child, with a triumphant air. “See, I have buttoned my gaiters nicely.”
“A little crooked; but it’s done, at any rate; and now I suppose you will go and rest yourself until night?”
“Oh no, Monsieur Goefle: I want something to eat; I am very hungry; it has kept me from sleeping well for an hour at least.”
“There,” said M. Goefle to Christian, “you see what manner of serving-man my housekeeper provided me with! At present, I shall leave him under your charge. Make him obey you, if you can; for my part, I have quite given up trying. Come, Ulph, go on; I’ll come after you. Well, what’s the matter? what is it?”
“They brought a letter for you a little while ago,” answered Ulphilas, whose ideas became more luminous in proportion as the sun ascended towards the zenith, “and I put it in my pocket, and had forgotten—”
“To give it to me? Too true! You see, Christian, how well you are waited upon at Stollborg.”
M. Goefle opened the letter, and read as follows, interrupting himself at every sentence to make comments in French:
“‘My dear advocate—’
“I know that handwriting! It’s the Countess Elveda! A great coquette. The Russian party in petticoats!
“‘Let me see you before any one else. I know the baron expects you at noon. Have the goodness to leave Stollborg a little early, and come to my room. I want to talk to you about some matters of importance—’
“Matters of importance! Some silly piece of wickedness, as black as charcoal, and consequently as plain to be seen as charcoal on snow! Faith, it’s too late! the time is past.”
“Certainly, the time is past,” observed Christian, “and what she wants to tell you is not worth the trouble of hearing.”
“Ah! ah! Then you know what it is?”
“Perfectly; I’ll tell you about it at once, and I’m not afraid that you will lend your influence to helping on a scheme as horrible as it is ridiculous. The countess wants to marry her pretty niece, Margaret, to the dead-and-alive old Baron Olaus.”
“Yes, I know that very well, and I have openly laughed at the idea. Marry such a beautiful May to such a pale December! One would have to be as much of a white-cap as the peak of Sylfiallet to think of such a thing!”
“Ah, I was sure you would feel so. Is it not abominable, Monsieur Goefle, to propose to sacrifice Margaret in such a way?—”
“Hallo! Margaret? Why, you and Margaret must be on very intimate terms?—”
“Very far from it. I have only seen her. She is charming.”
“She is so considered. But the countess—how the devil did you come to know her, and how did you learn about her private plans?”
“That is another story; I will tell you about it if you have time—”
“What? No, I have not; but here’s a postscript that I did not notice. I don’t understand it at all:
“‘I must compliment you upon your nephew’s fine figure and his wit.’
“My nephew! I have no nephew! Is the countess crazy?
“‘Nevertheless, his good manners failed him for once, and veryreprehensibly. He really deserves to receive a severe reprimand from you for having been guilty of such rudeness! But I will talk it over with you, and try to make up for his foolishness—I almost wanted to say insolence.’
“Rudeness! Insolence! Monsieur my nephew seems to have been well occupied! But where the devil am I going to find the young gentleman, to give him his severe reprimand?”
“Oh, dear Monsieur Goefle!” said Christian, in a piteous tone, “you will not have to look very far. How is it you have not reflected that if I could obtain admission to the ball-room without my mask, last night, it cannot have been by the name of Christian Waldo?”
“I do not deny that! Then it was under the name of Goefle?”
“My invitation was in my pocket under that honorable name.”
“So, sir,” said M. Goefle, with severity, while his eyes sparkled with anger, “you don’t content yourself with carrying off other people’s toilet, from hair-powder down to shoe-soles inclusive, but you must also go so far as to take their names, and leave them to be responsible for the follies you may choose to commit. That is altogether beyond endurance!”
Here good-natured M. Goefle, in spite of himself, burst out laughing, at the absurd predicament of Christian Waldo. The handsome and passionate young man, who found it difficult to bear so direct a reproof, seemed tempted to make rather a sharp reply, and then his anger was increased by the conduct of the servants. On one side Ulph, perceiving from M. Goefle’s tone that he was angry, although he did not understand a word that he said, was unconsciously imitating his looks and gestures, while little Nils, quite as ignorant of the facts in question, placed himself opposite Christian, in a haughty and almost threatening attitude.
Provoked by these two absurd figures imitating and burlesquing M. Goefle, Christian was strongly tempted to knock down the man and kick the boy, but he knew perfectly well that he was in the wrong, and hewas, moreover, much pained at having offended so kind and amiable a person as the doctor of laws. Indignation and repentance, therefore, were depicted alternately upon his expressive countenance, and with such vividness that the lawyer was quite disarmed. His laugh at once disarmed his two satellites, who began to laugh also with returning confidence, and went about their business, while Christian gave M. Goefle a brief account of his defiance of the baron, which the Countess Elveda called rude and insolent, but for which, in his opinion, he was not at all to blame. M. Goefle, pressed as he was for time, listened attentively, and when he had finished, said:
“Assuredly, my dear boy, you have done nothing to dishonor the name of Goefle; on the contrary, your conduct was that of a gentleman, but you have none the less placed me in a cruel embarrassment. Whether or not Baron Olaus remembers his epileptic attack—for which, it seems, he is indebted to you—he will not forget, you may rest assured, that you have offended him. As you have been told, he is a man who never forgets anything, and you will do well to disappear at once in your character of Goefle, since Goefle you have chosen to become. Do not quit this chamber without being masked; become Christian Waldo again, and you have nothing to fear.”
“But pray tell me what should I have to fear from the baron, even if I should present myself to him with my face uncovered? Is he actually capable of having me assassinated?”
“I know nothing about that, Christian; I swear to you, upon my honor, nothing at all; you may confidently believe me on this point. If, in my business relations with him, I had gathered the least proof of the acts he is charged with, those relations would be discontinued. I am very indifferent to lucrative patronage, and I should tell my client some very plain truths, whether it did him any good or not. Nevertheless, there are some reports so well authenticated, and there are so many cases where misfortunes have occurred to persons who have opposed the baron, that I have sometimes asked myself if he had not the evileye—thejettatura, as you call it in Italy. At any rate, not to bring any unnecessary bad luck upon myself, please allow me to report that my nephew is absent; that he started this very morning on a distant journey.”
“You may rely upon my absolute prudence, since I have been the means of exposing you to a risk. I will not leave the room without being masked, or so disguised that no one shall recognize me for the rather too gallant and chivalrous stranger who danced at the ball last night.”
M. Goefle and Christian Waldo shook hands upon this agreement. Nils, whose services had been confined to eating his breakfast during the conversation, was now well wrapped up in furs by his master, who was obliged to lift him upon the driver’s seat of the sleigh, and to place the reins and whip in his hands. Once seated, however, he drove off like an arrow, and descended the steep slope of the rock with skill and confidence. To drive a horse was the one thing that he knew how to do, and did without murmuring.
As for Ulph, he proceeded to make up the bed in which Nils had slept, for Christian, and to prepare the sofa, which was quite large enough to be comfortable, for the child, as M. Goefle had directed before his departure. Then he went to wait upon his uncle, but always discreet in concealing his disobedience, he did not say a single word about the presence of visitors in the donjon.