OLD ACQUAINTANCES.
Since the conversation upon the Roman emperors, the Sovereign had withdrawn for a few days from his Court. He was ill. His nervous prostration, as the physicians declared, was the usual consequence of a cold. Only a few privileged persons--among them Master Knips--had access to him during this time, and they had no cause to rejoice in their confidential position, for it was difficult to deal with the princely invalid.
To-day the Sovereign was sitting in his study; before him stood an old official, with a weazen face, reporting the daily occurrences of the capital, opinions which were expressed in public places concerning the Sovereign and his illustrious house, small scandalous family anecdotes, also observations that had been made in the palace to which the Princess had gone within the last few days, and the persons she had seen there. Prince Victor paid daily visits to the Baroness Hallstein, and passed the evening with the officers of his former regiment; he had returned unexpectedly that morning.
"How do things go on in the Pavilion?" asked the Sovereign.
"According to the account of the lackey, there have been no visitors from the city, nor any letters; everything as usual in the afternoon. When the strangers were sitting in front of the door, the lady had spoken of a journey to Switzerland, but her husband replied that there could be no thought of it until he had finished his business. Then there had been an uncomfortable silence. In the evening both attended the theatre."
The Sovereign nodded, and dismissed the official. As he sat alone, he pushed his chair against the wall, and listened to the sound of a small bell which, from the further end of the room, was scarcely audible; he hastily opened the door of a niche in the wall, and took out the letters which a confidential secretary had sent up through a tube from the lower story. There were various handwritings: he passed quickly through the contents. At last he held a bundle of children's letters in his hand. Again he laughed. "So the great ball has burst already." His countenance became serious. "A genuine peasant, he has no sense for the honor of having the top-boots of a prince among his fields." He took another letter. "The Hereditary Prince to his sister. It is the first letter of the pious John Patmos, saying nothing, as if it had been written for me. That may possibly be so. The contents are scanty and cold. He expresses the wish that his sister also may pass a pleasant time in the country. We wish the same," he continued, with good humor; "she may pluck flowers and talk with scholars about the virtues of Roman ladies. This wish shall be fulfilled by all parties." He laid the letters back in the niche, and pressed a spring in the floor with his foot; there was a slight rustling in the wall, and the packet glided down.
The Sovereign raised himself from his chair and walked about the room.
"My thoughts hover restlessly about this man. I have received him with complaisance; I have even treated his insane hopes with the greatest consideration, and yet this unpractical dreamer mocks at me. Why did he make this insidious attack on me? He did it with the malicious penetration of a diseased person, who knows better than a sound one what is deficient in another. His prating was half vague reflection and half the silly cunning of a fool who also carries about him a worm in his brain. It does not matter: we know one another, as the Augur knew his colleagues. Between us a family hatred burns, such as can only exist between relations--an enduring, thorough hatred, which conceals itself beneath smiles and polite bows. Trick for trick, my Roman cousin. You seek a manuscript which lies concealed with me, but I something else, which you would withhold from me."
He sank back in his chair, and looked timidly towards the door; then put his hand into a pile of books, and drew out a translation of Tacitus. He tapped the book with his finger.
"He who wrote this was also diseased. He spied incessantly into the souls of his masters; their pictures so filled his fancy, that the Roman people and the millions of other men appeared unimportant to him: he suspected every step of his rulers, yet neither he nor his generation could do without them. He gazed at them as on suns, the eclipse of which he investigated, and which reflected their light on him, the little planet. He began to doubt the wisdom of the order of things; and that to every human mind is the beginning of the end. But he had wit enough to see that his masters became diseased through the miserable meanness of those like himself, and his best policy was that of the old High Steward, to bear all with a silent obeisance."
He opened the leaves.
"Only one, whom he has included in his book," he began again, "was a man, whom it moves one to read about. This was the gloomy majesty of Tiberius: he knew the rabble, and despised them, till the miserable slaves at last placed him among the madmen. Do you know, Professor Tacitus, why the great Emperor became a weak fool? No one knows it--no one on earth but me, and those like me. He went mad because he could not cease to be a man of feeling. He despised many and hated many, and yet he could not do without the childish feeling of loving and trusting. A common youth, who had once shown him personal devotion, caught hold of this fancy of his earthly life, and dragged the powerful mind down with him into the dirt. A miserable weakness of heart converted the stern politician of Imperial Rome into a fool. The weak feelings that rise up in lonely hours are the undoing of us all; indestructible is this longing for a pure heart and a true spirit--undying the seeking after the ideal condition of man, which is described by the poet and believed in by the pedant." He sighed deeply; his head sank on the table between his hands.
There was a slight sound at the door. The Sovereign started. The servant announced--"The Grand Marshal von Bergau." The Grand Marshal entered.
"The Princess inquired at what hour your Highness will take leave of her."
"Take leave?" asked the Sovereign, reflecting. "Why?"
"Your Highness has been pleased to order that the Princess shall this morning go to her summer castle for a few days."
"It is true," replied the Sovereign. "I am well today, dear Bergau, and will breakfast with the Princess. Will it be agreeable to you to accompany her?" he asked, kindly.
"I am very grateful to my gracious master for this favor," replied the Grand Marshal, honestly.
"What lady has the Princess chosen as her attendant?"
"As your Highness has given her the choice, she has decided upon Lady Gottlinde."
"I agree to that," said the Sovereign graciously. "The good Lady Gottlinde may be invited to breakfast, and you yourself may come also, that I may see you all once more about me before the journey. I have one more thing to say. Mr. Werner will follow you; he wishes to examine the rooms and chests of the castle for his scientific purposes. Render him assistance in every way, and show him the greatest attention. I have also a confidential commission for you."
The Grand Marshal made a piteous face, which plainly indicated a protest.
"I wish to win for us this distinguished man," continued the Sovereign. "Sound him as to what place or distinction would be acceptable to him. I wish you to observe that I am most anxious to keep him."
The Grand Marshal, much discomposed, answered:
"I assure your Highness, with the greatest respect, that I know how to value your confidence, yet this commission fills me with consternation; for it exposes me to the danger of exciting the displeasure of my gracious master. I have had opportunities of remarking that one cannot count upon gratitude from these people."
"You must not offer him anything; only endeavor to make him express some wish," replied the Sovereign dryly.
"But if this wish should exceed the bounds of moderation?" asked the Marshal hesitatingly.
"Take care not to object to it; leave it to me to decide whether I consider it immoderate. Send me a report immediately."
The Sovereign gave the signal of dismissal; watched sharply his bow and departure, and looked after the departing gentleman and gravely shook his head.
"He is not old, and yet the curse has overtaken him; he becomes grotesque. Here is another riddle of human nature for you learned gentlemen: the person who has every hour to control his countenance and manner, to whom the most rigid tact and correct forms are necessary in his daily intercourse, should, just when he becomes older, lose this best acquisition of his life, and become troublesome by his weak chattering and unrestrained egotism. You know how to answer. Emperor Tiberius, why your service, clever man, gradually made your servants caricatures of your own character? Now they have revenged themselves on you; it is all right. There is a desperate rationality in the links of the world. O misery, misery, that we should both have so little cause to rejoice at it!"
He groaned, and again buried his head in his hands.
Shortly after Ilse received the latest letters from home.
"How can the four-leaved clover be lost out of a well closed letter?" she asked her husband. "Luise, on her birthday, found some clover leaves and sent them in her former letter, to bring you good luck. The child is just at the age in which such nonsense gives pleasure. The dried clover was not in her letter, and as she is careless, I scolded her for it in my answer. To-day she assures me that she put them into the envelope the last thing."
"It may have fallen out when you opened the letter," said the Professor consolingly.
"My father is not contented with us," continued Ilse, discomposed; "he does not like it that the Prince has come into the vicinity; he fears distraction in the farm and gossip. Yet why should people gossip? Clara is still half a child, and the prince does not live upon our estate. There is a dark cloud over everything," she said; "the light of the dear sun has ceased to shine. Nothing but disturbances, the Sovereign ill, and our Hereditary Prince vanishes as if swept away by a storm. How could he go away without bidding us good-bye? I cannot set my mind to rest as to that; for we have not deserved it of him, nor of his courtly Chamberlain. I fear he does not go into the country willingly; and he is angry with me, Felix, because I said something about it. No good will come of it, and it makes me heavy at heart."
"If this trouble leaves you any thought for the affairs of other people," began the Professor, gaily, "you must allow me a small share. I think I have found the hidden castle which I have so long sought. I see from this chronicle that in the last century the country seat to which the Princess is going was surrounded by a forest. I hear that in this remote place much old household rubbish is preserved. I feel like a child on the eve of its birthday. I have made known my wishes to fate, and when I think of the hour when the present shall come to me, I feel the same heart-beating expectation which scares away sleep from the boy. It is childish, Ilse," he continued, holding out his hand to his wife, "I know it is; but have patience with me; I have long wearied you with my dreams, but now it will come to an end. The hope indeed will not come to an end, but this is the last place I have any reason to search for it."
"But if it should again happen that you do not find the book?" asked Ilse, sorrowfully, holding his hand.
A gloomy expression came over the Professor's face; he turned around abruptly, and said, harshly:
"Then I shall seek further. If Fritz had but come!"
"Was he to come?" asked Ilse, with surprise.
"I have requested him to do so," replied her husband. "He answered that his father's business and his relations with Laura prevented him. To him also it appears that a crisis is impending; he has suspicions with respect to the specification that I found here, which I consider unfounded."
"Oh, that he were with us!" said Ilse; "I long for a friendly face, like one who has for many days been traveling through a desert wilderness."
The Professor pointed towards the window.
"This wilderness looks tolerably humanized, and a visitor, such as you desire, seems already coming up to the house."
Ilse heard the rumble of wheels coming along the gravel of the castle road. A carriage stopped before the Pavilion, and the country coachman cracked his whip. The servants hastened to the door; Gabriel opened the carriage door; a little lady descended, gave a parcel to the lackey and a bandbox to Gabriel, and called out to the coachman to inquire about putting up the horses. She hastily ascended the steps, and, as she did so, gazed on the paintings and carved scrolls.
"This is a great pleasure, Mrs. Rollmaus," exclaimed Ilse, delighted, meeting her at the door.
The Professor hastened to the stranger and offered her his arm.
"My dear Ilse," cried the little lady; "revered and highly honored Professor, here I am. As Rollmaus has been charged with the superintendence of an estate in the neighborhood, in trust for a nephew, and as he has had to travel into this country to put things in order, and will stop only a short time, I thought I would take the pleasure of paying you a visit. Your father, brothers, and sisters wish to be remembered to you. Clara is growing up the very image of you."
"Come in, come in," said Ilse; "you yourself are the best greeting from home."
Mrs. Rollmaus stopped at the door.
"Only a moment," she said, pointing to the bandbox.
"You come to old friends."
"You must allow me however, that I may not disgrace this princely house."
Mrs. Rollmaus was taken into an adjoining room, the bandbox opened, and, after the best cap was put on, as well as white collar and cuffs, the learned lady floated into the sitting-room with Ilse.
"Magnificent," she exclaimed, looking with admiration at the ceiling, where the god of love held out to her his bunches of poppies. "One can see at once by the cross-bow that it is a Cupid; one frequently sees them on gingerbread figures, where they stand between two burning hearts. Dear Professor, the pleasure of meeting again, and in such surroundings, is truly very great. I have long looked forward with pleasure to this hour, when I could express to you my thanks for the last book you sent me, in which I have gotten as far as the Reformation. Rollmaus would gladly have come with me, but he has business to attend to in the distillery on account of the old boiler, which must be removed."
During this speech the eye of Mrs. Rollmaus wandered inquisitively into every corner of the room.
"Who would have thought, dear Ilse, that you and the Professor would have come into friendly relations with our princely personages? I must confess to you that I have already looked about me in driving here for the princely court-yard, which, however, probably lies on the other side, as I see only gardens here."
"There are no offices at the castle," explained Ilse, "only the stable and the large kitchen have remained."
"They say there are six cooks," rejoined Mrs. Rollmaus, "who are all great head-cooks; although I do not know for what other part of the human body they could be cooking. But the originalities of a Court are very great,--amongst which are the silver-cleaners, who, I verily believe, do not do their duty; at least, the small coin in our country is very dirty, and a great scouring day would be necessary for them. They say that the young Prince has now gone to the Chief Forester's lodge. Our Chief Forester is fully occupied; he grumbles over this royal quartering, and has ordered himself a new uniform."
She became serious and thoughtful, and there ensued an awkward pause, during which she rubbed her nose, looked at Ilse good-humoredly, and pressed her hand.
"There appears to be a storm coming," she continued, in a low tone, "and the country gentlemen complain that the spring grub has eaten the rapeseed. Here, indeed, it seems like a paradise, although I hope that no wild beasts rove about here, and it is not the season to pluck the apples from the trees with pleasure. Something seems to have turned up in the capital which is very remarkable; for as I came to the estate with Rollmaus, the Inspector told me of a fortune-teller who prophesied wonderful things of the people of this city. Do you know anything certain about her?"
"We have few acquaintances," answered Ilse; "we only get news from the papers."
"I should be glad to hear something about that person, for I have latterly begun the study of phrenology; and I hear, dear Professor, that these investigations are much combated. I do not myself feel sure about them. I have examined the head of Rollmaus, and am surprised to see how much the bump of destruction is developed behind his ear, though he is annoyed at every cup-handle the maid servants break. Nevertheless, dear Professor, I find the powers of thought shown upon your brow. The bumps are very large, by which I do not mean to say that they are unbecoming to you. But to return to the fortune-teller. She told the Inspector that he was married, and had two children, and that his wife was dead, and that he wished to take another, who would add two more. This is all correct, for he is again courting. Now, I ask you, how could this person know it?"
"Perhaps she knows the Inspector?" replied the Professor, rummaging among his papers. "I advise you not to confide in her art, and I do not recommend to you the study of phrenology. But now let us know how long you can remain with us. I am obliged to go to the Museum, and hope to find you on my return."
"I can remain a few hours," said Mrs. Rollmaus. "I have three miles to go, but the roads here are better than with us. Although now our highway is being built, and the road commissioners already go along it to the town of Rossau. Only think, dear Ilse, the stone bridge between your estate and the town is already pulled down, but they have put up a temporary one in its stead. For a few hours, then, I beg of you to be satisfied with my company."
The Professor went away; the ladies talked confidentially over the family at home, during which Mrs. Rollmaus could not entirely give up her scientific investigations; for, in the middle of the conversation, she put her fingers on Ilse's temples, and begged permission to feel the crown of her head; whereupon she said, with much delight, "There is much sincerity there, as I should have supposed." She then looked significantly at Ilse. She was loquacious and flippant, but she showed a degree of restraint which Ilse attributed to the strangeness of the place.
After Mrs. Rollmaus had admired the dwelling, criticized the pictures, and felt the texture of the furniture coverings, Ilse pointed to the sun, which was breaking through the clouds, and proposed that they should walk out into the park. Mrs. Rollmaus assented with pleasure, and Ilse had much to do to answer the questions of the excitable lady. Then they came to a part of the grounds which served as a promenade at this hour for the ladies and people of the city. "What a surprise," exclaimed Mrs. Rollmaus, suddenly seizing Ilse's arm, "the princely livery." At a turn in the path, the hat of a lackey became visible; the Princess, accompanied by Lady Gottlinde and Prince Victor, came directly towards them. Amidst the respectful greetings of the promenaders, the princely party approached. Ilse stepped aside, and curtsied. The Princess stopped. "We were on the point of calling on you," she began, kindly; "my brother was obliged to leave suddenly; he will have told your father how sorry he was that he could not take any messages from you to your family." She gave a passing look at Mrs. Rollmaus, who was supporting herself with both her hands on her umbrella, bending her head forward, not to lose a syllable that fell from the lips of the princely lady. Ilse mentioned her name.
"A kind friend from the neighborhood of Rossau, who is spending a few days near here."
Mrs. Rollmaus ducked down very low, and, almost unconscious from terror, said: "It is only three miles from here, in Toadville; although, if I may, by your Highness's permission, be graciously allowed to say so, there are no more toads there than in any other respectable place."
"You are taking a walk," said the Princess, to Ilse, "will you accompany me a little way?" She beckoned Ilse to her side, placing herself between her and the lady in waiting. Prince Victor remained behind with Mrs. Rollmaus.
"So toads are not pastured on your estate?" began the Prince.
"No, my gracious ----," replied Mrs. Rollmaus, embarrassed, supporting herself on her umbrella. "I do not really know what is the right title to address you with."
"Prince Victor," replied the young gentleman, carelessly.
"I beg your pardon; but this honorable name does not satisfy me. May I beg to know the other title, similar to what, in the case of pastors, would be expressed by Very Reverend? For to offend princely persons would not be pleasant, and I am not conversant with these forms of address."
"High and honorable lady, you may call me Highness; thus we shall both have our rights."
"It shall be as you command," exclaimed Mrs. Rollmaus, delighted.
"You have long known the Professor's wife?"
"From her childhood," explained Mrs. Rollmaus; "I was a friend of her deceased mother, and I can truly say that I have shared both happiness and sorrow with our dear Ilse. Prince Victor, it is impossible for your Highness to know her true heart as well as we do. Latterly, through her learned acquaintances, she has come into another atmosphere; but long before her betrothal it was clear to me that it would be a match."
"Good," said the Prince. "How long do you remain in the neighborhood?"
"Only until the end of the week; for Rollmaus prefers the country to the city, which is not to be wondered at; he has not the inclination for intellectual pursuits by which I am inspired. For this there is more opportunity in the city, although one, even in the country, can make one's observations on heads and other natural objects."
"The weather is changeable; is your carriage closed?" interrupted the Prince.
"It is a britscka, with a leather top to it," replied Mrs. Rollmaus. "I must honestly avow to you that it has been quite an unexpected pleasure to me that this visit has afforded the opportunity of seeing your Highness, for I have heard very much of you."
"I should be very grateful to you," replied the Prince, "if you would kindly tell me what you have heard. I have hitherto believed that my reputation was not by any means so bad as it might be."
"No one, however noble he may be, can escape calumny," exclaimed Mrs. Rollmaus, eagerly; "they talk of tricks. I fear your Highness will take it amiss if I mention this gossip."
"Tell me something of it," replied the Prince, "whatever it may be."
"They maintain that your Highness is convivial and lives quite boisterously, and other things which it would be unpleasant for me to repeat."
"Go on," said the Prince, cheerfully.
"That your Highness makes fools of other people."
"That is grievous," replied the Prince. "Is your coachman a courageous man?"
"He is somewhat surly even with Rollmaus, who indulges him much."
"Believe me Mrs. Rollmaus," continued the Prince, "it is a sorrowful business to be a prince. Disquiet from morning to evening. Every one will have something, and no one brings anything except bills. Thus all gaiety is sacrificed, one becomes sad, and slinks about through the bushes. My favorite recreation is a little quiet conversation in the evening with my old nurse and instructress, the widowed Cliquot, and to play a little 'patience.' Then one counts the good works that one has done during the day, sighs that they are so few, and looks for one's boot-jack. We are the victims of our position. If there is anything I envy the Professor's wife, it is her servant Gabriel, a trustworthy man, whom I recommend to your favorable attention."
"I know him," replied Mrs. Rollmaus; "I must acknowledge that the autobiography which you have given me agrees with all that I have discovered from the structure of your Highness's head, so far as your hat does not deprive one of the sight of it, which indeed is very much the case."
"I would be thankful to my cranium," muttered the Prince, "if it would lead everyone to believe my words as easily as you do."
"As long as I live, it will be a pleasure as well as a souvenir to me," continued. Mrs. Rollmaus, with an ambulatory curtsy, "to have been brought by accident to this intimate intercourse with your Highness, the remembrance of which I will, if I may be allowed to say so, recall to myself by your Highness's picture, which I hope may be had in the shops. I shall place myself before it when I am in the singular number, as now my son Karl does with his grammar, and think of past hours."
Prince Victor gave Mrs. Rollmaus a look of friendly benevolence.
"I will never allow you to buy my portrait. I beg permission to send you a copy as a remembrance. It is, unfortunately, not so true as I could wish. The painter has made me too large, and I am not quite content with the costume: it looks like a clergyman's gown. Meanwhile I beg you kindly to imagine it without this superfluity. Has the Chief Inspector Rollmaus good horses? Does he raise them himself?
"Always, your Highness, he is famed for it among the neighbors."
The Prince turned with fresh interest towards the little lady.
"Perhaps one could transact some business with him. I am looking out for some strong saddle-horses. What kind of a man is he to deal with?" he asked, frankly.
"He is a very sharp tradesman," replied Mrs. Rollmaus, hesitatingly, and looking at the Prince with secret pity. "He is considered by his acquaintances as an expert in horses, and--and, if I may say so--is rather knowing."
The Prince pursed up his lips, bringing out a sound almost like a suppressed whistle.
"Then he is very unlike the highly honored lady, and I shall hardly be able to do business with him. Would it not give the Professor's wife pleasure to visit you for a few days in the village of toads?"
"It would be the greatest pleasure to us," exclaimed Mrs. Rollmaus, "but the house is empty, and is not furnished, and we must manage as best we can, and the victuals, too, as a rule, are cold."
"Only in case of extreme necessity, I mean."
Meanwhile Ilse was walking by the side of the Princess through the groups of citizens making their obeisances, but her heart was not so light as that of Mrs. Rollmaus. The Princess spoke kindly to her, but upon indifferent subjects, and she turned frequently to the other side to her lady. It was clearly not her wish to enter into more conversation with Ilse than was absolutely necessary. Ilse saw clearly that it was a show of favor before the world; she felt the intention of it, and asked herself secretly why it was necessary, and her pride revolted at this graciousness, which did not come from the heart. The Princess kept Ilse for some time in the most crowded part of the promenade.
"I leave the palace to-day," said the Princess, "and go for a few days or weeks into the country. Perhaps I shall have the pleasure of seeing you there."
At parting Prince Victor took off his hat politely, but only said: "The air is becoming sultry."
Ilse brooded over this little incident as she returned with her companion to the Pavilion. She answered the animated questions of Mrs. Rollmaus absent-mindedly, and only gave a half-look at the promenaders, many of whom now took off their hats to her.
Gabriel had prepared some coffee in honor of Mrs. Rollmaus, and had set the table in front of the door. There the ladies sat down. Mrs. Rollmaus looked enchanted at the blooming azaleas, praised the cake of the palace, and still more the princely personages, and chatted away in her best humor, whilst Ilse looked seriously down.
"I have seen some of the princely personages, and I should now like to see the fortune-teller. It is remarkable, dear Ilse, that my valuable connection with the Professor always brings in question the power of soothsaying. It is really not from inconsiderate curiosity that I wish to question this person. It is no object to me to learn about my future. I know sufficiently how this will all be. For to a certain extent we live under natural conditions; first the children come, then they grow up, one becomes older, and if one does not die too young, one lives a little longer. That has never been inscrutable to me, and I do not know what a person could now discover for me. It would, therefore, be some misfortune that would come to pass, and I do not wish to have that prophesied. I wish it only for the sake of instruction, to find out whether such a person knows more than we others. For in our days there are doubts about the powers of soothsaying, and I myself have never had a presentiment, except once, when I had the toothache, and dreamt that I smoked a pipe, which took place and had a nauseous effect; but this cannot be called wonderful."
"Perhaps the fortune-teller knows more than others," replied Ilse, absently, "because she has somehow made herself acquainted with their history."
"I have thought of something," cried Mrs. Rollmaus; "I would ask her about the silver soup-ladle, which, in an inexplicable way, disappeared from our kitchen."
"What will the lady give me if I tell her?" asked a hollow voice.
Mrs. Rollmaus started. At the corner of the house stood a large woman behind the flower-pots; from her shoulders hung a ragged cloak, her head was covered with a dark handkerchief, from under which two flashing eyes were fixed upon the ladies. Mrs. Rollmaus seized Ilse's arm, and cried out, terrified: "There is the fortune-teller herself, dear Ilse. I beg your advice; shall I ask her?"
The woman stepped cautiously from behind the plants, placed herself in front of Ilse, and raised her handkerchief. Ilse rose and looked annoyed on the sharp features of the withered face.
"The gipsy!" she exclaimed, stepping back.
"A tinkering woman!" exclaimed Mrs. Rollmaus, displeased; "the secret knowledge of such as she is, is connected with poultry-stealing, and worse things. First they steal and conceal, and then tell where the stolen property is."
The stranger paid no attention to the attack of Mrs. Rollmaus.
"You have hunted my people like the foxes in the wood; the frost has killed them; your watchmen have imprisoned them, and those that still live lie within walls, clinking their chains; I rove alone through the country. Do not think of what was done by the men that night, think only of what I predicted. Has it not come to pass? You look on the stone house opposite, and you see how slowly he comes along the gravel-path, to the room in which the naked boy hangs on the ceiling."
Ilse's countenance changed.
"I do not understand what you mean. Only one thing I see, that you are no stranger here."
"Many years have my feet glided through the snow," continued the gipsy, "since I passed through the doors of these black creatures."
She pointed to the angels holding tulip wreaths.
"Now disease has come upon me."
She stretched out her hand:
"Give to the sick woman of the high road, who once went on the same path that you are now treading."
The color rose in Ilse's cheeks, she gazed fixedly on the beggar woman, and shook her head.
"It is not money that I want from you," continued the gipsy. "Entreat the spirit of this house for me, if he should appear to you. I am weary, and seek rest for my head. Tell him that the strange woman on whom he hung this token," she pointed to her neck, "begs for his help."
Ilse stood motionless; her cheeks glowed and her eyes flashed angrily on the woman.
"What will you give to find your silver again?" asked the beggar, in an altered tone, turning to Mrs. Rollmaus.
"So you are the fortune-teller?" said Mrs. Rollmaus, angrily, "and not a penny will I give you. Any one who examined your head would find a fine organism there. I have often heard such gibberish. Away with you before the police come. One of your people prophesied to my head-maid that she would marry a landed proprietor, and I was obliged to dismiss her, though she had been very useful. She began to attack even Rollmaus himself, although he only laughed at her. Go, we will have nothing to do with you."
"Think of my request," cried the stranger to Ilse. "I shall return."
The gipsy turned away and disappeared behind the house.
"They are scamps," said Mrs. Rollmaus, deeply irritated. "Believe nothing of what they say to you. This one talks worse nonsense than the others. I really believe, dear Ilse, you take to heart what this beggar woman has said."
"She knows this house, she knew well what she says," said Ilse, faintly.
"Naturally," exclaimed Mrs. Rollmaus; "they rove about and peep through all the crevices, they have a good memory for other people's business, but do not remember their own thievish tricks. I have a great suspicion of her as regards my soup-ladle. If this is the famous fortune-teller I am so disgusted as not to care to make any further inquiries. Ah! and you also, I see."
"I know the woman," replied Ilse; "she belongs to the band who stole our children, and wounded the arm of my Felix. Now her uncanny figure comes before me like a spirit, and her dark words excite horror in me. She threatens to return, and terror seizes me lest this woman should once more come upon me unawares. I must away from here."
Ilse hastened into the house, Mrs. Rollmaus followed her, and said, kindly:
"If she comes again, she shall be sent away. The best way of dealing with these prognosticators is to imprison them with bread and water."
Ilse stood in the sitting-room looking timidly about her.
"He who hung the cross upon her was the master of this castle; and when she spoke those wild words to me at the gate of the farm yard, she did not mean my Felix."
"She meant eight shillings, and nothing more," said Mrs. Rollmaus, consolingly.
"How dare she compare my life with hers? How does she know whether the lord of this house attends to my words?"
Mrs. Rollmaus endeavored in vain to tranquilize her, by sensible observations upon the worthlessness of these female vagabonds. Ilse looked down, with her hands folded, and the consolatory speeches of her worthy friend were spoken in vain.
Strange voices were heard in the house; Gabriel opened the door, and announced the Intendant. The old man entered the room officiously and begged to be excused for the interruption.
"My most gracious master has commanded me to inquire whether a strolling woman has been begging here. She has slipped into the castle, obtained access to the Princess, and frightened her, just when her Highness was departing for the country. His Highness wishes to warn you against the stranger--she is a dangerous person."
"She was here," replied Ilse, "and talked wildly; she showed that she knew the house."
The Intendant looked disturbed, as he continued:
"A long time ago, her Highness, the deceased Princess, took compassion on a gipsy girl whose mother had died on the high road. She had the creature instructed, and, as she was amusing, and seemed to promise well, she was at last taken into the castle and employed in small services; but she has badly repaid this generous treatment. At a time of heavy affliction in the castle, this person fell back into the habits of her childhood; she took to stealing, and disappeared. To-day, one of the servants recognized the maiden in this strange woman. His Highness, the gracious Prince, who is ailing, was informed of this by his valet and was much excited by it. Search is being made through all the streets and roads for the stranger."
The old man took leave. Ilse looked gloomily after him; but she said with more composure to Mrs. Rollmaus:
"This accounts for the language of the stroller, which sounded different to that of begging people in general, and it accounts for her wish to receive the pardon of the Prince."
But now Mrs. Rollmaus in her turn became depressed and sad.
"Ah, dear Ilse! if the witch has really lived here among these distinguished people, she may know many things that have happened in this house; for people do not speak well of it, and they say that in former times princely mistresses lived here. The house is not to blame, nor are we; it is only because the Hereditary Prince has gone to your father, and you knew him at the University, that people shake their heads at it; it is idle gossip."
"What gossip?" exclaimed Ilse, in a hoarse voice, seizing the hand of Mrs. Rollmaus.
"They say that you are the cause of the Hereditary Prince coming into our country. We should all rejoice if you were to visit your father before you journey, as was intended; but I really believe, as long as the Prince is there, it would be better for you to remain here, or anywhere else. It is only for the sake of prudence," she continued, soothingly, "and you must not take it to heart."
Ilse stood silent and motionless; Mrs. Rollmaus continuing her comforting words, but Ilse scarcely seemed conscious of them.
It is not safe, Ilse, to teach young princes to use agricultural machines, and to fight duels; the tuition fee will be paid you doubly, and in new coin, as is the custom of the courts.
There was a long and uneasy silence in the room. Ilse looked wildly about; then she took a cane chair, and placed herself opposite to Mrs. Rollmaus, and her fingers flew over her work. "Do not let us talk any more of such calumnies," she said. "What is your son Karl doing? are you satisfied with his progress? and how does he get on with the pianoforte? It would be a good thing for him to understand something about music."
Mrs. Rollmaus recovered her spirits talking over the dances that her son Karl played; she chattered on, and Ilse listened silently, counting over the stitches in her colored wool-work.
The Professor returned, and shortly after the carriage drove up. Mrs. Rollmaus disappeared into the next room to pack up her cap in the band-box, and then took an eloquent leave of her dear friend, the Professor. Her last words to Ilse were:
"It may be long before we meet again; preserve your friendship for me even though I am far from you."
"What is the meaning of these solemn words of parting our neighbor has spoken?" asked the Professor, astonished.
"They mean that we are in a house, to be within the walls of which fills an honest woman with horror and dread," answered Ilse, with flashing eyes; "and they mean that I wish to go away from here, and that it is time for you to take away your wife from unwholesome surroundings."
She told him breathlessly what Mrs. Rollmaus had related, and what the beggar-woman had suggested.
"I am ensnared, Felix," she exclaimed, "by my own fault, I am sorry to say. God knows that in my conduct towards the young Prince I had no thought of bringing your wife into disrepute, but I have been imprudent, and I am suffering for it horribly, horribly! Now I understand the forebodings which have tormented me for weeks past. If you love me take me away quickly from here, the ground burns beneath my feet."
A sharp pang seized the Professor as he saw his wife struggling with agony, bitter enough to stun the strongest soul of woman, and to crush the noblest powers for years.
"It is as repugnant and humiliating to me as to you to look openly upon wickedness. I am ready to do all that I can to deliver you from this trouble. Let us calmly consider how this can be done. You cannot, in such a state of passionate feeling, decide what would be good for you, for your judgment is not unbiased enough to choose your own course. To what old house that a tenant rents or a landlord opens, do not painful recollections attach? Even he who lives a simple life in a strange neighborhood, cannot escape the attacks of idle gossip. Turn away your thoughts from that common woman. It would not become either you or me to depart like fugitives on her account. What have we done, Ilse, to lose our self-respect? There is only one wise method of dealing with the evil work of foolish and perverse accidents, to go forward firmly and to care little for it. Then the dissonance will pass away and perish of itself in the noise of daily life. Those who allow themselves to be disturbed by it, increase it by their own sorrow. Suppose that we were suddenly to leave this house, you would carry away with you the feeling of having left like one who had been conquered, and you would be incessantly pursued by the consciousness of a discordant murmur behind us which would not be silenced."
"You speak coldly and wisely," exclaimed Ilse, deeply incensed; "in spite of what you say, though, you little feel the injury your wife suffers."
"If you now had the self-possession for which I always admired you, you would not allow such unjust complaints to pass your lips," replied her husband, gloomily. "You must know that if I saw you in danger, I would this very hour take you away. Must I now waste words with you to tell you that. But even against the gossip of the weak, this residence is the best defense, for the Prince is away and you remain behind with your husband."
"I know the cause of this indifference," murmured Ilse.
"You know what binds me here," exclaimed the Professor, "and if you were to me what you ought to be, the sharer of my hopes, and if you had the same feeling for the value of the treasure which I seek, you would, like me, feel that I should not needlessly turn away. Bear with this residence, dear Ilse, however irksome it may appear to you," he continued encouragingly, "the longest period is past. I am invited to pursue my quest in the country-chateau of the Princess; there I anticipate that I shall find what will set us free."
"Do not go," exclaimed Ilse, approaching him; "do not leave me in this dreadful insecurity, in a terror that makes me shudder at myself and every strange sound that I hear in these rooms."
"Terror," exclaimed the Professor, displeased, "terror of spirits. Rarely is life among strangers so easy and comfortable as this residence is to us; there may be discord everywhere, and it is our own fault if we allow it to master us."
"Do not go," cried Ilse again. "Yes, there are spirits that pursue me, they hang day and night above my head. Do not go, Felix," she exclaimed, raising her hand; "it is not the manuscript alone that allures you, but the woman who awaits you there. This I have known ever since the first day we came to this town. I see how the magic of her superficial soul ensnares you. I have until to-day struggled against this fear, from the confidence I had in my loved husband. If you go now, Felix, when I would like to cling to you, when I seek every moment for comfort from your voice, I shall begin to doubt you and to have the fearful thought that my trouble is indifferent to you, because you have become cold to me."
"What are you thinking of, Ilse?" cried the scholar, horrified; "is it my wife that speaks thus? when have I ever concealed my feelings from you? and can you not read in my soul as in an open book? Then, was it this that lay so heavy on your mind? Just what I should not have considered possible," he said, frankly and sorrowfully.
"No, no," cried Ilse, beside herself; "I am unjust, I know it; do not attend to my words. I trust you; I cling to you. Oh! Felix, I should be driven to despair if this support breaks under me."
She threw her arms around his neck, and sobbed. Her husband embraced her, and tears came into his eyes at the grief of his wife.
"Remain with me, my Felix," continued Ilse, weeping. "Do not leave me alone just now. I have still a childish, simple heart. Have patience with me. I have been ill at ease here; I do not know why. I cling to you, and I tremble lest you should be alienated from me. I know that you are mine, and I struggle with the fearful foreboding that I shall lose you here. When you go out of the house, it seems to me as if I must take an eternal farewell, and when you return, I look doubtfully at you, as if you had changed towards me in a few hours. I am unhappy, Felix, and unhappiness makes one distrustful. I have become weak and faint-hearted, and I am afraid of telling you, because I fear that you will on that account have less respect for me. Remain here, my beloved; do not go to the Princess--at least, not to-morrow."
"If not to-morrow," he said, cheerfully, "then the next day, or some other day. I cannot forego this short journey. To give it up would be a wrong that we must not take upon ourselves. The longer I delay. Ilse, the longer you will be kept within these walls. Even from your point of view, is it not prudent to do quickly what would make us free?"
Ilse released herself from his embrace.
"You speak sensibly at a moment when I had hoped for a far different tone from your heart," she said quietly. "I know, Felix, that you do not wish to give me pain, and I hope that you are true in what you now say, and conceal nothing from me. But I feel in the depths of my heart a long-accustomed pang that has often come over me in sorrowful days since I have known you. You think differently from what I do, and you feel differently in many things. The individual and his sufferings signify little to you in comparison to the great thoughts that you carry about with you. You stand on a height, in a clear atmosphere, and have no sympathy with the anguish and trouble in the valley at your feet. Clear is the air, but cold, and a chill seizes me, when I see it."
"It is the nature of a man," said the Professor, more deeply moved by the restrained grief of his wife than by her loud complaints.
"No," answered Ilse, gazing fixedly before her, "it is only the nature of a scholar."
In the night, when the scholar had been long sleeping, his wife rose by his side and gazed, in the subdued light, on the countenance of her loved husband. She got up, and held the night-lamp so that the yellow light fell on his peaceful countenance, and large tears dropped from her eyes on his head. Then she placed herself before him, wringing her hands, and striving to restrain the weeping and convulsions which shook her body.