CHAPTER XI
One evening, Martella came to me, and, with a timid manner to which I was quite unused in her, asked me to allow her to return to Jaegerlies, with whom she had formerly lived. She had heard that the old woman was sick, and at the point of death. She had left her quite suddenly, and now wanted to return; and thought it would be far better if she were not to come back until our guests had left.
She extended her hand to me, and said, "I promise you that I will surely return."
Her behavior puzzled me; and when I endeavored to find out why she really wished to leave, she said that it might be a stupid feeling, but she had a constant presentiment of some great misfortune near at hand.
I tried to persuade her that there were no grounds for this uneasy feeling, as Ludwig, his wife, and Wolfgang all treated her as one of the family. She persisted in her determination; and I at last reminded her that she had promised my wife never to leave me.
"I did not think you would remind me of that," she said; "but, of course, if you fall back on that, I shall remain here even if they try to drive me away."
Martella might well feel anxious, for she was a living proof that our family was incomplete; she, too, had been obliged to accustom herself to constant sorrow, and to learn to lead a life tranquil and resigned.
Nearly all to whom invitations had been sent, promptly answered that they would come. My sister wrote that she would bring her daughter, and her future son-in-law; but, that, on account of his duties, her husband would be unable to leave home. My brother-in-law, the pastor, who lived in Alsace, was also unable to come.
With every letter that came, I felt as if I must read it to my wife. Who could so help me to celebrate such a day, as she would have done? The life of the best of children is really for themselves. It is only the wife who lives entirely for and with her husband-one life consisting of two lives inseparably united. Inseparably! They have been separated, and a portion yet lives, leading a fragmentary existence.
I succeeded in repressing my emotions, and prepared myself for the great joy which was yet vouchsafed me.
On his return from his short trip, Ludwig had much to tell us, giving us quite a medley of merry and sad experiences. He had met many of his old comrades; and, among others, had visited his most intimate friend, a Professor at the teachers' seminary, in a town of the Oberland. The Professor was a model of quiet unobtrusive learning.
"I am shaping my block of stone," were the Professor's words: "what place it may occupy in the great Pantheon I do not know; but, nevertheless, I fulfil my little task as well as I know how."
He felt quite sad to find one of his old comrades in the very position he had occupied twenty-five years before. He might have become one of the best of men, for he has a good wife, and fine children; but he is the slave of drink, and is intoxicated from morning till night. Indeed, in the country one must constantly renew his intellectual life, or there is danger of giving way to drunkenness.
Ludwig had also visited his uncle, the Inspector of the water-works at the Upper Rhine, under whom he had worked for a year. He regretted his inability to attend our festival, but promised to send his son; and Ludwig was quite pleased when he told us how his uncle had said:
"The Rhine seems as if lost, and does not know whither it should flow. It is against nature that one bank of a stream should belong to one country, and the opposite bank to another."
Sister Babette and her family were the first to arrive; and, shortly after their first greeting of Ludwig and his family, they inquired for Martella. She was delighted to find that they were so much interested in her, and also to obtain from them some little news in relation to Ernst's short stay with them. Even Pincher recognized the Alsatians.
The bridegroom-elect, who was now an officer of the customs, had come in his uniform, and was quite condescending in his manner, as if he intended, with every word, to say, "I am superior to you all, for I am a Frenchman." And yet, in spite of this, he had the very German name of Kräutle.
Annette did him the favor to speak French with him. He was quite delighted, and Annette asserted that he and his bride were ashamed of the Alsatian language; when speaking French, they evidently felt that they appeared at their best, and to ask them to forego that pleasure would be much the same as requiring one never to wear his Sunday clothes.
Annette was embroidering a silk ribbon; and Richard picked up the end of it and held it in his hands. But she generally managed to spoil the effect of her pretty speeches, and added that people could talk French without having ideas; but that, when speaking German, they noticed the absence of costume, and were ashamed thereat. When she uttered these last words, Richard dropped the ribbon he had been holding, and walked away.
Annette was happy whenever she could express her pleasure with any one, and Ludwig was not wrong in saying:
"She will be one of the best of wives when she is once a mother. Now she is fluttering about, hither and thither; is herself restless, and disturbs others."
With every hour, new guests arrived, and Martella said: "It was stupid of me to have wanted to go away; I am needed here, where there are so many strangers-no, not strangers-O dear Lord, so many beings who belong to one! If mother were only living yet, she could help me love them. O dear father, when we step over into eternity, and meet all the beings who belong to us-so many! so many! Indeed, father, you are now experiencing a part of eternity."
And it was so.
But I felt that age was coming on me. I could not walk about much, and was obliged almost constantly to remain seated in my room, where they all came to me. To see Wolfgang and Victor together, was to me joy unutterable. My sister asserted that, when a child, I had looked just as these two now did. I cannot imagine that I ever looked so elegant and distinguished-looking.
After the Major joined us, the customs officer became much quieter in his manner; for the Major had come in full uniform.
Johanna, who, since Ludwig's arrival, had become even more reserved and austere, seemed to find the meeting with her son, the vicar, a pleasant change. Nothing daunted by my presence, she complained to him that, with a sister-in-law who had only been married by a civil magistrate, and with a nephew who had not even been christened, she felt as if living among heathens.
The vicar, who was more liberal in his views, and yet felt quite at home in his vocation, pacified his mother, and she concluded to take part in the family festival.
The eldest son of the inspector of the water-works came with his two sisters, and the Major was delighted to find that this young man, my godson, had determined to follow the sea.
Ludwig told us that a sea-captain had assured him that the naval cadets were principally recruited from the inland provinces, while the sailors naturally came from among the dwellers along the sea-coast.
The medical counsellor, who had formerly been director of the jail in which Ludwig and Rothfuss had been imprisoned, but who had now retired on a pension, was also among the guests, and Rothfuss was delighted beyond measure to meet him again.
Baron Arven did not fail to offer his congratulations. He seemed quite surprised to find Annette dressed in colors. He cordially greeted us all, and constantly addressed Ludwig as "Colonel." He remained but a short time, and had probably only visited us in order to show that it was his desire to keep on good terms with us, and that he wished to have nothing to do with any enmities or unpleasant feelings which other members of his household might cherish towards us.
Ah, I thought I could have given the names of them all, but I find it impossible. The hearty greetings of so many guests had so fatigued me, that I slept until late on Sunday morning. When I awoke, I heard a lovely chorus, accompanied by an harmonium; and, after that, a quartette of female voices.
This was the first intimation we had of Conny's powerful and sympathetic contralto voice.
The other voices I recognized at once. They were Bertha's, Annette's, and Martha's.
If it was pleasant to see Wolfgang and Victor together, it was, perhaps, yet more lovely to see the sympathy between Conny and Bertha; and Martella expressed my own feelings, when she said, "Dear sister Conny, you did not have the happiness to know mother, but Bertha is very much like her."
When I at last joined all my kindred, there was a new surprise in store for me. Before retiring, I had inquired about Julius. I do not know whether you have already observed it, but he is a special favorite of mine. He is well-off in every respect-well provided for, both intellectually and in regard to the world's goods, though without great riches or luxury. He is like a healthy forest-tree; without bright blossoms, but silently thriving, nevertheless. I shall not indulge in further praise of him, for he dislikes praise.
And now Julius came and told me that Ludwig had obtained a dispensation for the marriage of the young people without the delay of publishing the banns. Rontheim and his wife had at first been disinclined to consent to such haste, but Ludwig had persistently urged them. And now it was determined that the wedding should take place to-day, and that his cousin, the vicar, should marry them, for Martha had insisted that they should be married by a clergyman. Whereupon Ludwig said: "We are certainly very tolerant towards these believers."
I had ceased to be surprised by anything.
We marched towards the church to the sound of music, the ringing of bells, and the noise of cannon, which the mountains re-echoed. But when we reached the spring, which, as I afterwards learned, had been decorated by Martella, I felt a pang. Why could Gustava not have lived to enjoy this? And then, repressing the sad thought, I let joy descend upon me, and said to myself, "Keep thyself erect, and in health, so that thou mayest not disturb the happiness of the many who belong to thee."
When we reached the spring at the edge of the woods, we halted. What to us had seemed impossible, Ludwig had already accomplished. The iron column was already there, and around it were stone seats, and also a high bench, where people might lay aside their burdens.
"One learns these things in America," said Ludwig. "There they do not care for yesterday, and do not console themselves with the hope of to-morrow: all must live in the present."
After leaving the church, where the wedding was celebrated in a simple manner, we marched in procession to the family woods, where, by Ludwig's orders, great tables had been erected; and on our way there he told me how clever Ikwarte had been in the work.
I cannot find words to speak of the great table in the woods.
Before we seated ourselves, we were all obliged to remain perfectly still for a short time. Ludwig had made arrangements to have the whole group photographed. They all say that I look very sad in the picture; it may be so, for I could not help thinking, "Where is Ernst now? Does the sun that now shines on us, shine on him too?" It is especially pleasant to see Martella and Rothfuss in the background, holding each other's hands. Annette is also in the family picture; her eyes are downcast, while Richard is looking towards her. Since the loss of her husband, she had never laid aside her mourning, but to-day she wore colors.
The Major's speech at the dinner was even better than the vicar's in the church.
Martella's best and only treasure was Ernst's prize cup. She had placed it before me on the table, and Annette had wound a garland of flowers around it.
After the Major's speech, the wine-cup travelled the rounds of the whole table.
After the clinking of glasses, and the drinking of healths, the conversation had become loud and excited; after that, all became as noiseless as in a church during silent prayer. It was one of those pauses that ensue after the soul has unburdened itself, and when, for a moment, there is nothing new to engage it.
And during that pause I could hear Annette saying to Conny, "Yes, dear Conny, I, as a stranger, beloved and loving in return, can speak more impartially than relatives can. I cannot describe the mother to you; and yet I have seen her to-day, or at least her counterpart. When Julius was standing at the altar, he had her very expression. He resembles her more than any one-he has her eyes.
"Ah, what a pity that you did not know her! She was full of life, and yet gentle withal; and when she spoke with you, she never looked to right or left. She never tried to create an impression, and yet in her presence one always felt exalted; and while her glance rested on one, it was impossible to indulge in vile or ignoble thoughts. What to others seemed exalted and great, was with her a matter of course. She practised and expressed all that is highest as easily as others say 'Good-morning.' In her hands, even the common-place became invested with beauty. She judged of people with love, and yet with freedom.
"Thus, she once said, 'I felt inclined to be angry with Baroness Arven, because she does not understand her excellent husband; but he, on the other hand, does not do his wife justice. She is created for society-for interesting, witty small talk-and he desires to feed her soul with thoughts of nature and Fatherland. Fanaticism, in every one of its thousand shapes, endeavors to force its own convictions on others, and this is both good and evil at the same time.'
"She said something to me which I have worn as an amulet, and it is, after all, but a simple maxim.
"When I complained to her that it was so difficult with me to fix the proper relation towards others, she replied:
"'Child, you do not maintain the right distance between yourself and others. With every one, even though it be a Rothfuss, you move into most familiar contiguity.' Her words impressed me deeply, and were of great help to me.
"She understood herself, and that made every one else feel on sure ground. When one felt depressed or sad, without hardly knowing why, the mere fact that you were suffering was enough to arouse her sympathy: and that would always cure the pain.
"But what avails it to speak of separate disconnected traits. I might as well try to give you an idea of a glorious symphony by singing a few bars of one of its melodies. When with her I felt in a higher world."
Thus spoke Annette. She did not seem to notice that all were silent while she was talking.
And then Bertha and Conny arose from their seats and covered her with their caresses.
I could not move from the spot. I saw Richard rising, but he sat down again at once.
Ludwig turned to him and said: "Her mind and her exterior correspond. At first she does not impress one as wondrously beautiful; but, day by day, she grows in loveliness."
This invocation of my wife had, for the time being, invested the festival with a certain solemn impressiveness; but soon mirth burst all bounds, and the young couple again became the centre of joy.
Rontheim was so happy that he drank fellowship with the Major, with Ludwig, and with Richard. A blissful feeling of brotherly affection seemed to unite all.
Rothfuss afforded us great amusement. He wore a bouquet in his hunter's coat, and another, with a red ribbon streaming from it, in his hat. "Colonel," he called out to Ludwig, "may I be permitted to say one word?"
"Have you made up your mind what to wish for?"
"No; this is something else. All I wish is that you shall say 'Yes,' and that will do."
"What do you mean?"
"Listen. You are Colonel of the negroes-of the blacks-and there are people who say that negroes are not human beings. Now listen! What is it that man alone can do, and that neither horse nor ox nor stag can do like him?"
"Why, speak, to be sure."
"Wrong: The beasts do speak; but we are too stupid to understand them. No; I mean something quite different: man alone can drink wine. If the negroes can drink wine, they are men just as we are. Tell me, can negroes drink wine?"
"Yes."
"All right, then. Here's to the health of our black brethren."
He emptied his glass and was about to walk away, when Richard called out: "Stop! I ask all to join me in drinking the health of the great man who has solved the question of slavery, in wine. Long live our great philosopher-Rothfuss!"
It seemed as if the cheers would never end, and Rothfuss called out, "To-day I will get jolly drunk seven times at least-no, seven times is not enough!"
When we at last arose from the table, I inquired for Rothfuss. I was concerned about him, for he had been acting like a crazy man.
Ikwarte said that, although Rothfuss showed signs of having drunk too much, he had gone up into the woods and had taken a bottle of champagne with him.
They hunted and hunted, and at last found him. He was asleep, and the empty bottle was lying on the ground by his side.
"Oh," he complained, "why did you wake me? I died so happy. To die drunk is the best way, after all; now, I've got to die over again. No matter; I'll wait for master, and then we will ride to heaven in double harness; or, if the parson is right in what he says, to hell. It's all the same to me; I shall stay with master."
Then he embraced Ludwig, and repeatedly said to him; "Let me go to jail once more for you." They managed to get him home without further trouble.
CHAPTER XII
The newly married couple left; but the young people were averse to breaking up, and kept up the dance until long after nightfall. A little circumstance occurred which greatly excited Martella.
Julius's friends had come in their smart hunter's suits; even Rautenkron had overcome his scruples, and attended the festival, although he did not join us at table.
We were told that Rautenkron had always been angry that Martella was permitted to keep her own dog, and Pincher, moreover, had a special aversion to Rautenkron.
At the same time that Rothfuss was being looked up, a terrible barking and yelling arose. The strange dogs had fallen upon Pincher, and it was even said that Rautenkron had called out to his dog, "At him, Turenne! Break his neck for him!"
When they at last succeeded in separating the dogs, Pincher was dead, and Martella's lamentations were heart-rending. She indulged in expressions that I would not have expected of her: "It was the only living thing that belonged to me, and that Ernst had left me. Now I am all alone in the wide world!"
When I spoke to her, she hastily said, "Forgive me; I am sometimes very silly."
She could not bear the sight of the dead dog, and begged that he might be buried in the woods.
In the meantime, Rautenkron was explaining to Wolfgang that his ambition to become a forester was based on a false ideal; that dealing in rags was a much prettier occupation. For then one need know nothing of the people who once wore the rags; but that the forest people were all cheats, and, if they could, would convert the trees into as great cheats as they were.
We were still engaged watching the dancers, and it was a great pleasure to see Wolfgang dance with Clotilde, the Major's daughter. Wolfgang arranged an American dance, which was so wild that it evidently originated with the Indians.
The young Alsatian couple also joined in the dance.
Carl had allowed Marie to dance with another one of the village lads, and stood holding the hand of Martella, whom he had led to the dancing floor. She said that she did not wish to dance, and that for tenfold reasons she ought not to, especially as her betrothed was far away. But all persuaded her. Rothfuss-who, having been aroused by the music, had gathered himself up again, and was now seated at the table by the side of Ikwarte-was especially anxious that she should dance.
When Martella began to dance, a great change seemed to come over her. There was something uncanny in her features and in her eyes.
Nearly all of us left the dancing floor, and Annette requested Martella to go with us.
"Oh, no," she exclaimed, while her eyes rolled and her lips quivered; "I have now begun, and I cannot stop so soon. Good-night, my lady."
She remained, and all were filled with admiration of her light movements and her wonderful tours de force.
"Why, you can jump about like a squirrel, and fly like a bird," said Rothfuss.
"So I can," cried Martella. "Do you know how it is when one of the cuckoo's brood leaves its nest in which the simple tomtits have fed it? None of you have ever seen it, but I have. I, too, am one of the cuckoo's brood. It flies away it flies away. Play on, fiddlers. Let us have the cuckoo's song. Keep quiet, all of you; I will dance for you."
And then she began to dance, raising herself and bending towards the ground again as if she really had wings; and all were delighted.
When she stopped all cried out, "Again! again!" and the Alsatian exclaimed, "Da-capo!"
Ikwarte arose and said, "Miss, do not let them abuse your good-nature; do not let them make a fool of you. There is enough of it."
"This is not your affair," exclaimed Carl, "you Prussian! – you starveling!"
"I have nothing to say to you," answered Ikwarte; "you are not worth answering."
Martella danced again, to the great delight of all.
But while she was dancing, one could see that it took several of the lads to hold Carl.
When the dance was over, Carl rushed up to Ikwarte, and cried:
"You cursed Prussian! why do you think that I am not worthy of being answered?"
"I have no respect for a man who would put himself in the way of being captured."
"Is that it?"
"Carl, take none of the Prussian's impudence," called out Martella. "It is the Prussians' fault that my Ernst had to go forth into misery. Pay him up for it!"
And then followed terrible scuffling and fighting.
Ikwarte seemed, at first, unable to realize that he was actually involved in a fight; but when he saw that matters were in earnest, he seized Carl, and held him as firmly as in a vise. Rothfuss urged them on, for fighting was his delight. They were at last separated, and then Martella threw herself on the ground, tore her hair, and cried out, "It is all my fault! It is my fault! I am ruined!"
Rothfuss succeeded in leading her away. She tried to escape from him and to run out into the woods, saying, "Anything rather than go back home, for I don't deserve to go there."
He succeeded, at last, in inducing her to enter the house of Carl's mother. Accompanied by Annette and Conny, I went there to bring her home, and was startled when I saw what a change had come over the poor child. Nevertheless, her agitation had not disfigured her; she seemed more lovely than ever-almost supernaturally beautiful.
"O father!" she cried. "Indeed, I have no longer the right to use those words. I knew it; I felt a presentiment of it all, and I wanted to go away. Why didn't you let me go? I don't belong here, and now less than ever. The worst that could have happened to me has happened. I have relapsed into savage folly. And yet she who is up there said, 'Do not lose faith in yourself and in your goodness, and you can accomplish everything.' The worst punishment is mine, for I have lost faith in myself. I may become crazed again any moment; I no longer believe in myself."
When Conny and Annette spoke to her in their kind way, she exclaimed, "Every kind word of yours gives me new pain. Scold me, beat me, kick me-I deserve such treatment, and shall find it less painful than kind words that I do not deserve. I was so happy in thinking that I had accomplished all, but it is not so. Now I see how much love and respect you all had for me; and when Ernst returns I shall tell him everything. He may scold me heartily, for I have deserved it."
We conducted her to the house, where we found Ikwarte, whose appearance seemed the very opposite of what it usually was. He seemed as if crushed, and continually said, "Colonel, I admit that it was highly improper on my part, especially as it happened in a strange land."
Ludwig took it all in good part, and laughingly remarked that North and South Germany had again been scuffling with each other. Then he apologized for Ikwarte, by saying that he could not stand wine; that, except when taking communion, he had not tasted a drop of wine up to his twentieth year.
Ikwarte stood by, nodding his assent and pulling his red mustache. After that, he went off with Rothfuss.
In the meanwhile, Martella sat crouching on the floor in a corner of the room.
Ludwig softly said to me, "Now is the time to let Martella tell us who and whence she is."
I thought that as the child was overmuch agitated, it might be better to wait until the next day; but he insisted that this was the proper time.