Waldfried: A Novel
- -
- 100%
- +
Old Blank maintained that this was a breach of promise, and I saw how the lieutenant clenched his fists when he heard that expression; but he controlled himself and calmly explained the matter, stating, at the same time, that he asked me to decide between them.
I knew all about Blank. He was one of those men of whom one can say nothing evil, and nothing good. All that he asked of the world was to be left undisturbed while attending to his business and adding to his wealth. He was a zealous reader of the newspapers, and would smoke his good cigar while enjoying them. It suited him best when there was lots of news. Others might act for the state, the district, and even for the community, so that he might read about what they had done. He could not realize that one who belonged to his family could care to exert himself for the general good. I saw this in every word that he uttered. I allowed him to speak for some time without replying.
"And what is your opinion?" I said, addressing the lieutenant's wife, who stood by the window, plucking dead leaves from the plants that were placed there.
"Shall I call in our three children, so that you can ask them?" she answered, in a harsh voice.
"Little children have no opinions as yet; but their parents ought to think for them."
I asked old Blank whether he would be satisfied with my decision.
"Since you ask in that way, you are, of course, opposed to me, and for that reason I say no."
I saw that I could be of no use, declared that I would not attempt to decide, and left the family to settle their dispute among themselves.
When I left there, I was the more pleased to meet the Councillor Reckingen, who lived in the town, and who had visited me shortly after Ernst's flight. He had conquered his feeling of loneliness and grief at the shocking death of his wife. He lived alone with his only daughter, and had devoted all his time to her education. She was just budding into womanhood.
This man, who had always seemed troubled and absentminded, now approached me with a cheerful smile, and said that he had the good fortune to be again permitted to enter on his calling; and that, as a result, his child, who had been so constantly with him that he had begun to be alarmed for her future, would now be obliged to accustom herself to a life of self-reliance and activity; for the wife of the Privy Councillor had already expressed her willingness to have his daughter stay with her during the campaign.
We were standing by the stream, where the water rushes over the dam with a mighty roar, and he said:
"You are like me; in great times all little troubles disappear, just as the thundering of these falling waters drowns all other sounds."
I passed a delightful hour with the Councillor in his lovely garden, which was carefully and tastefully kept. He had been very fortunate in cultivating roses, and I was obliged to permit him to pluck a lovely one for me from every bush.
"She loved roses, and cared for them above all things," were his words while he handed me the nosegay.
According to promise, Ludwig returned, bringing Ikwarte with him. He had written to Conny and Wolfgang to come to town. He told us that he had caused his name, and also Wolfgang's and Ikwarte's, to be entered with the Sanitary Corps. They wore the white band with the red cross on their arms, and soon started in the direction of the Rhine to join the main army.
Conny went home with me.
CHAPTER XI
When we reached the saw-mill, a wood-cutter was waiting for me, and told me that Rautenkron, the forester, urgently requested that I would come to him at the bone-mill which lay in the adjacent Ilgen valley.
The wood-cutter told me that one could hardly recognize Rautenkron-something horrible must have happened to him.
I found Rautenkron seated in the bone-miller's room. He said to the miller, "Put enough bones into your kiln, old Adam, so that you may keep away for an hour, and then go and leave us by ourselves."
The miller left.
"Take a seat," he said, in a tone to which I was unused in him; his features and his manner seemed changed.
After a forced laugh, he thus began: "I have bought my bones back from this man-I had sold them to him for a bottle of gentian; and it used to amuse me to think how my noble self would, at some future time, be converted into grass and flowers on the hillside, and perhaps furnish food for cattle.
"But, pardon me," he said, interrupting himself; "forgive me, I beg of you; I ought not to address you in that tone. Forget this, and listen to me with patience. I will confide my last will to you; you have often provoked me, but now I am glad that you are here. The thought of you followed me in the woods, sat by me at my bedside, and has deprived me of rest. I have always wanted to learn what your weak side was, and now I have found it out.
"My father was a worldly-wise man. He divided mankind into two classes-charlatans and weaklings. He maintained that in all that is termed love, be it love of woman or love of the people, there is a large portion of charlatanry, which at first consciously, and afterward without our knowing it, deceives both ourselves and others. You are not a charlatan-but you are vain.
"Do not shake your head, for it is so. Of course, vanity is not a vice; but it is a weakness, for it shows dependence on others. You offered your hand to Funk, because you felt too weak to have an enemy running about in this world. Since I have made that discovery and convinced myself on that point, you no longer worry me. You too have your share in the misery that belongs to the species of vermin that terms itself man. It is out at last-now I have nothing more against you. Indeed, I cannot better prove this than by the fact of my asking you to help me. Usually, I have not required the assistance of others, but now I need yours; and I think that is enough to make you feel that you must aid me."
I consented, but in my own mind I felt a dread of this man, who, in his bitter candor, seemed much more terrible than when taciturn.
"I request, nay I demand-" he continued-"do not interrupt me; let me speak for myself.
"Do you know who I am? For years, I have been called by a strange name. You cannot imagine how pleasant it is to be so constantly a masker, in the mummery known as life. I shall not, at present, mention my true name, but you may rest assured it is an old and a noble one, and related to that of Johannisberg.
"My father-he was indeed my father-had become reduced, and he led a merry life, although I did not know where the means came from. At a later day, I discovered all. He purchased a captaincy for me. 'Purchased,' he said, but it had really, so to say, been presented to him. He had carried others' hides to market; perhaps a couple of human skins to be tanned. His master had many of these tanners in the state vade mecums known as prisons.
"I was, as I have told you, a captain at Mayence, and my father lived near there, at Wiesbaden. He was known as Hofrath.
"I do not know whether what people call conscience ever pricked him, but he was always merry and fond of good living, and enjoyed it as much as the stupidest monk might do. He would always say to me, 'Conrad, life is a comedy; he who does not take it in that light, but looks upon it in a serious manner, spoils his own game.'
"I thought I had much to tell you, but I have not. My story is simply this:
"My father had a habit of asking me about my comrades, – what they were doing, what they were thinking of, and to whom they wrote; and I faithfully told him all I knew. You may believe me! I, too, was once open-hearted. But, one day, two of my comrades were suddenly cashiered. Letters of theirs had been found-not found, but sought-which, it was said, contained treasonable expressions. All of us at the garrison were beside ourselves with surprise, and I suspected nothing.
"Until the year 1848, our regiments had recruiting stations where soldiers were enlisted and received a good bounty. In a Gallician regiment which formed part of the garrison of the fortress-there were also Italian regiments in it-a very clever young Pole had been enlisted. He learned the drill, was a good horseman, and his captain wished that he would study German, in order that he might become an officer; but he did not care to do so, and said that he could not write. One day we learned that he had deserted. They found a letter from him, although he had said that he could not write. It was in choice French, thanked the captain for his kind treatment, and added that he had come and gone by the command of others, high in station. For some days they spoke of the fact that the Russians were even more successful than we as spies. For this man had evidently joined us only in order to inform himself as to the disposition of the Gallicians. It did not strike me at first, but afterward I could not but notice the fact that they always talked to me about spies.
"A young Prince joined our regiment. He became an intimate associate of mine, and seemed to take a special liking to me. My father seemed much pleased with this, but gave me less money than he had formerly done. I was obliged to borrow from the young Prince and to ask favors at his hands. Yes, the world is wise, if one only knew it at the right time. I found it out too late. Is it not ingenious, and does it not do all honor to the human intellect, to discover that it is well to incur an obligation in order to acquire more perfect confidence on the part of those to whom we owe a debt? Although the lynx out there is ever so cunning, it cannot do such work; that is reserved for the image of God.
"One day my father said to me-yes, my father-'Conrad, (that is my baptismal name), 'you are now employed at the officers' quarters; the adjutant of the post cannot be trusted; be careful that you get hold of something that involves him; but let it be in writing. That aroused my suspicions that something was wrong. One day, a fellow-officer said to me, 'There is a spy in our regiment,' and all the other comrades laughed. I challenged the one who had thus spoken to me, and-shot him.
"But I am anticipating-I must first tell you of another matter. I always had a great desire to be a forester. I often begged my father to permit me to leave the army, but he would not consent. And I would have been so glad to marry and live quietly in the woods; for I had a child, a lovely, beautiful child.
"And then, on account of the duel, I was imprisoned in the citadel. No comrade visited me.
"When I left the prison, my child and the mother had vanished. She had received a letter, in my handwriting-my father knew how to imitate the writing of others-in which was contained a considerable sum, to enable her to emigrate-and she had left. A companion of hers in the ballet, who had been a suitor for her affection, and had, heretofore, been rejected, had accompanied her.
"My papers had been confiscated, and I feel quite sure that it was done at my father's instance, for he distrusted me, and wished to get me out of harm's way.
"Among them there was also a memento of my beloved; it was a little narrow red ribbon tied in a knot and torn off at both ends. She had given it to me in a happy moment, and I had fastened it on a sheet of paper and had written under it 'talisman.'
"All of my papers were returned to me, but not the ribbon. My father had sent it in the letter to my beloved, and had, moreover, written, in my name, 'By this sign I request you to obey the bearer of this in all that he may require of you.'
"My father said to me: 'She whom you call your wife has left by my orders.' Through a former friend of hers, I received a letter in which she asked me whether I had caused the child to be taken from her; because it had suddenly vanished about the time the vessel was leaving."
"What ails you? What alarms you?" suddenly exclaimed Rautenkron.
I controlled myself and begged him to go on with his story.
"I left my father and led an adventurous life. Pshaw! I have even been croupier at a gaming-table. And there I heard that my father was dead. On the day before, I had seen him staking rouleaus of gold-he had not recognized me.
"By chance I made the acquaintance of Baron Arven, and through him I received the appointment of forester in his woods, after having, as assistant-forester, learned my profession from Hartriegel.
"I bear a strange name, and shall die with it. But, before I die, I shall put my living bones to use.
"I could not make up my mind, but now something has helped me to decide. The engineer whom you are employing down by the new mill which you are building is one of my victims. I recognized him at once, although he has changed greatly. I do not know whether he remembered me, but I almost believe that he did. He looked at me carelessly and then turned away. It is well that I have had a look at one of my victims. That destroyed the last traces of indolence and the desire to hide myself from the world. I must and will live. The French are coming. They have made all preparations to burn our woods. The little spectacled forest Junker-you know that I dislike him; he still acts, the proud and overbearing corps student, and, besides that, is happily married, has a fine hearty wife and boys like young wolves. I have always avoided him; but I met him to-day and he handed me the French newspaper, in which it is joyfully proclaimed that our woods will soon be in flames. When I read that, I fled. That was enough for me. I am a good shot. If they wish me to, I can single out my man among the enemy and bring him down at the first fire. The little forest Junker has promised to look after my duties as forester. He said that would be the same as helping in the war, as he could not leave home. Let him make a virtue of it if he chooses. My woods are in safe hands, and I can go."
He now requested me to use my influence with my son-in-law, the Colonel, and I faithfully promised that I would.
I asked him whether he had no memento of the mother and the child. He said that he had none.
"And has the child, perhaps, a keepsake from you?"
"I can remember none. But, yes! When I saw it for the last time, I brought it cakes in a satchel on which was embroidery representing a dog holding a bird between his teeth."
My hair stood on end.
"What was the name of your child?"
"Conradine."
"Then all agrees-Martella is your child."
And the man seized my arm as if he would break it, and gave a cry like a felled ox.
After a while, he regained his self-control. We hurried to the village. On the way, he told me that he would now confess to me that he had had a letter from Ernst. He was in Algiers; had entered the army there and had become an officer. He had told me nothing about it, because he had thought it was of no use. Ernst had also given him messages for his betrothed: but he had always kept them to himself. "Spare me all reproaches," he concluded; "I am punished bitterly enough. Oh, if they had only been united! How shall I utter the word 'child,' and how can I listen to the word 'father'?"
When, after leaving the saw-mill, we began to ascend the hill, he called out in a hoarse voice: "It was here, in this spot, that she stepped down from the wagon in the twilight. Here, by this very tree, I heard her voice. It was that of her mother-I could not believe it at the time. Here, by this very tree."
Rothfuss came towards us. "Have you seen her-is she with you?"
"Whom do you mean?"
"She is gone off with Lerz the baker, who has become a sutler. Oh, the damned hound!"
"Who?"
"Martella is gone!"
Rautenkron grasped a young tree by the roadside, and broke it in two; then he sank on his knees. We lifted him up.
"It is right thus. So it should be," he said. "Here, on this very spot-do you remember? – I warned you when your wife went to bring her home. Tell me, wise man, what was that? I heard something in her voice, and did not wish to believe it. Turenne," he said, turning to his dog, "you killed her dog. Be quiet; I told you to do it."
He followed us to the house, but did not utter a word on the way.
We went to her room. She had taken nothing with her but the embroidered satchel, which, before that, had always hung over the mirror; and also Ernst's prize cup. The clothes that she had inherited from my wife she had carefully arranged and placed to one side.
We asked Rothfuss how long it was since she had disappeared.
They had been hunting for her ever since the morning of the day before, but in vain. No sign of where she had gone could be found.
Rautenkron left the room and went out into the garden. He sat there for a long while, holding his rifle between his knees. I begged him to return to the house with me. He was looking on the ground, and did not raise his head. I asked him to give me his rifle. He looked up towards me, and, with a strange smile, said: "Don't be alarmed; I am not such a fool as to shoot myself."
I walked away. A little while afterward, I heard a shot, and hurried out again. Rautenkron sat there, holding his gun with both hands, but his beautiful brown spaniel lay dead at his feet.
When he saw me, he exclaimed:
"Now I am quite alone. I had intended to give Turenne to you, but it is better thus. The beast might have been stupid enough to long for me."
The sound of drums was heard from over the hills. The Colonel arrived with his regiment, and all hurried out to meet him.
And the Englishman stood at the brook, angling.
BOOK FIFTH
CHAPTER I
Trumpets sounded, drums rolled, and songs from thousands of voices were heard in the valley and on the hills. All was joyous commotion. Thus, singing, does a nation take the field for its protection and salvation.
In the midst of anxiety for great things, for one's country, we ought to be troubled by no mere personal cares. But who can avoid them? The general sorrow is infinitely divided, and every one must bear his share.
That my son-in-law, two grandchildren, and a faithful servant had gone to face the dangers of the battlefield, was a sorrow like that which many thousands besides myself had to bear. What a heavy burden is that borne by the lonely widow down by the rock! But the knowledge that one child is already in the whirlpool of trouble, and is dragging another after him-that has been given to me alone. How often it occurred to me at that time: had my wife but lived to see the uprising of our Fatherland! It was better thus. She was spared the sight of our youngest son enrolled in the enemy's ranks. That phrase from the Bible, which, when thinking of her, I had so often consoled myself with, remained true: "But for the elect those days shall be shortened." Why had Rautenkron, after keeping his story so long to himself, now divulged it? Had the secret become too burdensome? And why did he cast the load on me? Enough, I had to overcome it.
The presence of my son-in-law had given me new courage, and I agreed with Rothfuss, who said, "When the Colonel is about, every one is more erect in his movements. Yes, he commands even when he says nothing."
I had never seen the Colonel thus. Such joviality beamed from his face that a glance from him was strengthening and reassuring. His only fear was that a premature peace might be concluded with the insolent successor of the tyrant, before all was decided by battle!
Our village and the entire neighborhood were in commotion while the regiment was quartered there. They even constructed a redoubt on Silvertop.
My son-in-law confided to me that the redoubt was perhaps unnecessary, but that his men would lose their good qualities if allowed to lounge about idly; he also hoped that the news of their doings would spread across the Rhine.
The peasants became refractory, and appointed a deputation, and among them was their ruler, the meadow farmer. They said that they had not forgotten how dreadfully the French had behaved in 1796, on account of the building of a fortification in the neighborhood. But the Colonel announced that whoever opposed any military ordinance, would be brought before a court-martial and shot forthwith. From that moment my son-in-law received the name of "Colonel Forthwith." Several of the most notable farmers from the neighboring valley, earnest, patriotic men, led by the burgomaster of Kalkenbach, wanted me to help them to an interview with the colonel. They complained that a young lieutenant wanted to destroy the bridges over the creek, and that he was about to cast burning rosin and tar-barrels into the stream, without reflecting that he thereby ran the risk of setting fire to the whole valley.
The Colonel countermanded this at once. He sent small detachments hither and thither in all directions to build camp-fires on all the hills, leaving often only men enough about them to keep up the fires, which were visible from across the Rhine.
People were to be made to believe that a large army was collected here, and he therefore notified all the towns and villages lying far beyond our valley, of the fact that large numbers of soldiers would be quartered there. On the houses they would chalk the number of men and of horses that were to be provided for. To judge by appearances, it seemed as if hundreds of thousands were at hand.
The Colonel asked Rothfuss if he knew any French sympathizers. He evidently wished that the French should get the most alarming news from us. Rothfuss thought that Funk would be his man; but when my son-in-law consulted me about Funk, I dissuaded him from employing such an instrument. Rothfuss then brought us the news that a journeyman baker from Alsace, who had worked for Lerz, was prowling around and preparing to return home.
The Colonel got Rothfuss to carry the news to this journeyman, that more than a hundred thousand men were encamped in the forest. The few pieces of artillery under his command were constantly moved from place to place, so that all were led to suppose that he had a large number of guns.
The Colonel had orders, in case the enemy should advance on us, to destroy the roads; we supposed that Napoleon's plan must be to separate North and South Germany by a sudden invasion. This was no small matter: we were the first who would have to resist the shock of the enemy's advance, and, so far as I could learn, I felt that the main forces of Germany could not furnish us with immediate protection. We would be sacrificed first, and afterwards would be helped by an offensive movement from the Middle Rhine region.
Rautenkron received, provisionally, the uniform of a hospital steward; for the Colonel was waiting for permission to enroll him. I was present when he asked Rautenkron:
"Do you speak French well?"
"Perfectly."
The Colonel whispered something to him; but Rautenkron with burning cheeks, cried:
"I can never do that; never!"
He then talked confidentially and excitedly to the Colonel; I believe he imparted to him his real name.
The Colonel then ordered him, as he was so well acquainted with the wooded heights, to attend to the further extension of the camp-fires on their tops.
Conny carefully helped in attending to the wants of the numerous garrison. The soldiers were treated in the best manner by the villagers, all of whom were anxious to do their share in the good work.
The old meadow farmer was the only one who did not show himself. He, who was always either at his door or window, and who stopped every passer-by to have a chat which should drive dull care away, lay in his little back room and declared that he was ill.
Carl's mother, on the contrary, did not stay in her house for a minute. She would approach one group of soldiers after another, and ask each man if he had a mother at home. And then she would begin to talk of her Carl, how he was in the lancers, and how they could hunt through every regiment and not find a better or a handsomer fellow. The two sons, who were working as carpenters, had estranged themselves from their mother. They lived down in the valley, and did not even visit her on Sundays. They boasted in the taverns that they could sing French songs.
While all this bustle was going on, I was constantly searching for Martella.
Rothfuss was of opinion that she had escaped in male attire; for, wherever he asked after Lerz, the baker, – he had quickly lost all traces of him, however, – he was told of a young man that had been in his company, and who would never enter the room with him.