Loe raamatut: «Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine», lehekülg 34

CHAPTER XVI.
A GOOD NEIGHBOR

There is many a chance which seems like a summons. Eric and Roland had spoken of Clodwig on the mountain, and when they reached home, they found a message from him, saying that he and the Countess had returned from the baths, and would visit them to-morrow.

Clodwig was brown from his summer-journey, and Bella looked younger than before, and seemed, as she swept with her long train through the house and park, somewhat like a peacock. As soon as they arrived, Roland gave an account of the curiosities found on the mountain, and his face fairly shone with delight when Clodwig asked him to consider them the starting-point of a museum for himself; for in making a collection of this kind, he would experience a pleasure to which scarcely anything else could be compared. Roland nodded to Eric, and Clodwig told them he had made many valuable acquisitions in his journey, which would soon be sent to him. He had met daily at the Baths a celebrated antiquarian, who had once been a teacher of Eric.

Eric apologized to Clodwig for having slighted his friendly advance, in not visiting him before he set out on his journey, and now another pleasant trait was seen in Clodwig, – that he had not one trace of sensitiveness. Kindness of heart and self-respect combined to cause this trait; he excused every neglect of himself, and, as a man of unquestioned position never thought of injury or slight.

"You are exempt from all apologies with me," he said, taking Eric's hands and holding them as though he were the young man's father. "You have cured me of selfishness. I had not believed that there was so much of it left in me, my dear young friend. Yes, you shall mould your own life, and I will rejoice that I have you for a neighbor. A good neighborhood, with the ancient Romans, was not merely a political arrangement."

They touched glasses and drank to the good neighborhood, and as the old Count drank, his eyes beamed upon Eric.

It was an animated account that Clodwig and his wife alternately, interrupting each other, gave of their having turned aside from their direct course, and spent a night in the University-town for the purpose of visiting Eric's mother and remaining an entire day with her. At last Clodwig left the field to his wife, who told with great feeling and earnestness of the life of the noble lady. She described the piano-forte in its old place, and the beautiful, dignified figure sitting at work before her window filled with flowers. On the wall before her hung the portraits of her dead husband and of her son, and in a frame by itself was a lock of her mother's hair, hanging between the crayon portraits of her parents. Still she was not at all melancholy, but cheerful and interested in every subject, taking part in every discussion.

Then Bella described the lovely valley, and their visit to the renowned mountain-chapel; and Eric could almost hear his mother's voice, and see her gentle face, as she sat by the beautiful lady, listening to Clodwig, and nodding assent and pleasure. It was for Eric an hour of deep and quiet happiness, laden with the memories of his home.

And not less beaming were Roland's eyes, as he asked: —

"And didn't she speak of me?"

"Almost more than of her own son," Bella answered. And then she turned again to Eric, and could not say enough of the impression which had been made upon her by the sight of a woman like his mother, who, living in another world, yet retained such an interest in this; who, having given up so much, yet possessed everything in herself.

Clodwig smiled, for Bella was repeating the very words he had used; but she continued, – "I think I never understood you, Captain, until I had the happiness of meeting your noble mother. We agreed to write to each other, from time to time, although she absolved me on the spot from any feeling of obligation to do so."

More and more happy, and at home, did Eric feel with Clodwig and Bella, and it seemed as though the spirit of his mother was lingering near them with a benediction.

"But we must not forget your aunt!" Clodwig exclaimed, and then went on to say that he had renewed an old acquaintance with her; he remembered well the dazzling beauty of Fräulein Dournay, and what an excitement was produced when she, a citizen's daughter, was presented at court, and invited everywhere. The story went that she and Prince Hermann, who died in his youth, had loved each other with the purest love, and, for his sake, she had refused all offers of marriage; but of this Clodwig did not speak.

As they were walking in the garden after dinner, Bella said to Eric: – "You have had a very beautiful, happy youth; but one thing was wanting."

"What is that?"

"A sister."

"I would be glad to think that she had come to me," Eric replied, in a low voice.

Bella looked down, for a minute, and then called Roland to her. They went on to the castle, and Clodwig begged the Architect, for the sake of his young friend, Roland, to be very careful whenever traces of further remains were discovered.

The company sat down on a projection of the castle-wall, where the Major had made a comfortable seat. Clodwig and Roland were together, and Bella and Eric were sitting at a little distance from them. She was inclined to be romantic. She had brought from Paris all the new fashions, but now she said to Eric, How foolishly we burden ourselves with superfluities! Then, without any apparent cause, she remarked, that everybody thought she was fond of display and fashion; but she would like best to live in a little fisherman's hut, on the Rhine, in one quiet room, with a bright fire.

"And who would make this fire?" Eric inquired.

Bella started at this question. "We must not be romantic," said she. Then I there was a long pause.

At last Eric began. "You have learned to know my mother; if you had known my father, you would have found great pleasure in him too."

"I did know him, but I thank you; I understand that you would have me share all that is yours." There was a heartfelt expression in her voice, and her eyes beamed, and she fixed them upon Eric with such a look, that he turned his own away. Biting her lip, she continued: "You have seen, – yes, you have certainly noticed how I look at you. Now I must fulfil one of Clodwig's wishes, because I think that perhaps I may succeed. He wants me to take your likeness, and I will try; but I must have your young friend with you. Roland, come here," she called, as she saw the boy approaching; and then she explained, with blushes overspreading her face, that she had wished to surprise Clodwig with the portrait on his birthday, but that that was impossible now, and she must do it openly.

"Please, Roland, sit down on the Captain's knee. So, – yes, just so, – put your right hand on his shoulder, but farther forward. Yes; now put your head a little more to the left. Pray say something, Captain. You must be telling Roland something."

"I've nothing to say," replied Eric, smiling.

"That will do; I see the motion of your lips; it will be difficult, but I hope to catch it. When will you sit to me?"

Clodwig was delighted, and said he never liked surprises; a well-prepared and long-expected pleasure was much more desirable. He urged Eric and Roland to be his guests at Wolfsgarten, until the family should come back. But Eric declined with equal friendliness and firmness; he did not like to disarrange the daily routine which he had laid out for Roland; and Clodwig approved of his resolution, and promised to come again soon to the villa with Bella, and have the portrait taken there. Bella wished a photograph of Eric and Roland in the positions she had chosen for them, but Clodwig said that a portrait taken with the help of a photograph was always stiff and unnatural; he condemned photographs of human figures, of which they could give only the mere form, and often wholly out of drawing. Roland had a word to say also, in regard to the picture. Why not have Griffin in it? Clodwig agreed, saying the dog would make a very good foreground.

Bella was out of humor. She had enjoyed companionship and gaiety so long, that she was reluctant to go back to her lonely life among the antiquities; perhaps there were further unacknowledged reasons for her regrets. The visit to Eric and Roland was a welcome reprieve to her; but the proud Captain was so reserved, and had always some great principle so ready to apply to even the smallest action, and her husband – his worst weakness was beginning to show itself, the doting fondness of old age – whenever the Captain spoke, Clodwig was wholly absorbed in the young man.

Her features seemed suddenly to become thin and faded, and to lose all roundness. She noticed this, and recovered her self-control. She was especially friendly, and when Eric took leave of her and kissed her hand, he thought he felt a returning pressure on his lips, but perhaps it was a mistake, or arose from some awkwardness on his part. While he was thinking about it, Roland said, —

"I don't know why, but I did not feel comfortable while the Countess was looking at me, did you? and she looked at you so strangely."

"It was the critical look of an artist," answered Eric; but his own words choked him. Who knew whether this reply was the exact truth?

CHAPTER XVII.
TO FORM A MAN

The Major sent no notice of his approaching visit; he came himself, he looked very fresh with his reddish-brown face, and his snow-white, short-cut hair, and he said that as often as he had bathed in the warm spring, he felt as if he could remember the very first bath after he was born. He seemed to himself, every time, literally like a new-born child, with an unseen nurse, who bent smiling over him and dipped him gently in the spring. He smiled at everything, at the trees, the roofs, the houses, and now at the faces of his friends.

He was very glad that Eric had taken the boy out of the ranks and was exercising him alone; it was hard, to be sure; but more progress could be made in one day, than in weeks by the other method.

He begged Eric to excuse himself in a few words to Fräulein Milch for not visiting her when she was so lonely, and he urged Eric to come soon, for the Grand Master was there.

The Major, as has been said, lived in a wing of the country-house, beautifully situated on the mountain-side, of which he had the care. With the greatest solicitude the Major preserved his own independence in life, but he felt a deep obligation toward the Grand Master, whose universal friendliness and agreeable conversation he was never weary of extolling. He always wanted to share with him every pleasure and advantage, and now what had he better than Eric, whom he praised so continually that his stock of eulogistic expressions became completely exhausted, and he found more than usual difficulty in saying what he wished.

On his first leisure evening Eric visited the Major. He easily made peace with the Fräulein; and the Major laughed till he choked and had to be brought to with a slap on the back, because he had made a joke, a most unusual thing with him, about Eric's confinement for six weeks.

Fräulein Milch told of Eric's glory at the singing festival, and the Major said, —

"That's good. At our feasts, singers are very important. But can you sing, 'These holy halls'?"

Eric regretted that the air was too low for his voice.

"Then sing something else; sing for Fräulein Milch."

Eric had difficulty in declining this friendly request, and Fräulein Milch thanked him, and helped him carry out his wish to defer the performance to some appointed evening. The so-called Grand Master was as disagreeable in his behavior, as Fräulein Milch was charming. There was something unpleasantly patronizing in his manner; it seemed as if he were so accustomed to flattery, that only a simple unpretending nature, like the Major's, could be at ease with him. The Major took great pains to bring his true friends together, but he did not succeed. The Grand Master behaved arrogantly towards Eric throughout. He addressed him only as "Young man," and gave him instruction and advice, as if Eric were in his employ. It required all Eric's self-possession, to show the man, good-temperedly, the impropriety of his treatment for the Grand Master was so inconsiderate as to speak, even in Roland's presence, of the want of experience of the "young man," who had, of course, come to him only to listen to his oracular sayings; and his whole manner of speaking had something oracular about it, as he gesticulated with outstretched hands, as if sowing seed. Eric kept his temper enough to treat this insolent creature as a singular, natural phenomenon. He patiently allowed himself to be patronized, and when Eric had gone, the Head Master said to the Major, – "That young man has ideas."

It is true, Eric had not expressed any ideas, but he had listened well, and so was awarded praise for them, which was a great deal from the Grand Master, who considered that nobody but himself had properly any ideas; and the whole world ought to come to him to be taught. When Eric returned to the Major's, he found a messenger, who had come to say that Clodwig, Bella, and Pranken would come there the next day. Roland had gone into the court with Fräulein Milch to admire the young ducks.

The Major now asked on what terms Eric stood with Pranken. Eric could only answer that Pranken had been very friendly, and considerate, in his treatment of him.

The Major, who had risen through every grade of the militia from drummer-boy up, lived in a constant state of resentment against the haughtiness of his noble-born comrades; he admonished Eric, however, to conduct himself gratefully towards Pranken, who was really a very well-mannered fellow, in spite of his noble birth; an obstacle that it was very hard for the Major to get over. He thought that Pranken deserved Eric's gratitude for having introduced him into his present position, and reminded Eric that he had also been the means of his gaining so valuable a friend as Clodwig.

As Eric and Roland were going towards home, Eric said, —

"Now, Roland, we will show that we do not allow ourselves to be disturbed; come what will, we will have our studies uninterrupted; we won't see visitors except in play-hours. You see, Roland, this is one great difficulty in life. From complaisance towards the world, and from an unwillingness to appear disobliging and ungracious to our friends, we often allow our own privacy to be invaded. Against this we must stand firmly: each must just be something for himself, and then come out into the world. He who cannot exist for himself may possess the world, but not himself."

In the consciousness of fulfilling his duty, Eric became again strong and self-contained, and scattered every disturbing influence far away.

CHAPTER XVIII.
UNDER-CURRENTS

The visit took place. Pranken rode behind the carriage in which Clodwig and Bella were seated; on the back seat of the carriage stood a frame-work covered with paper, and a handsome box ornamented with inlaid work, which held the crayons.

Eric and Roland received the guests, and Eric begged them to make themselves at home; he had had everything arranged by the servants; he would himself be at their service in an hour, when lessons were over.

The visitors looked at each other in astonishment.

Pranken looked strangely changed; a deeper seriousness was in his face; now he shrugged his shoulders, and burst into a mocking laugh.

Bella thought Eric's conduct extremely formal and pedantic; Clodwig declared it showed a beautiful trait of character; but Pranken saw only idle display in this assumption of duty; the young man – he said this quite in the tone of the Grand Master – the young man wished to make a great impression with his faithfulness to duty.

Meantime they made themselves comfortable, and it was not to be denied that Eric had shown great thought for the pleasure of his guests, in his floral decorations, and other arrangements.

The hour was soon over, and Eric returned to his guests in that fresh and cheerful mood, which only the conquest over one's self and the consciousness of duty fulfilled can ever give.

He had selected a good room, looking towards the North, and after a lunch the drawing began.

Clodwig remained with his wife; Roland, who was to be drawn later, went with Pranken to the stables. Pranken conducted himself in the house as Sonnenkamp's natural representative, or as a son of the family; he had the horses brought out, he examined the gardenwork, and praised the servants.

"I never saw you looking so serious and anxious," said Clodwig to Eric. And, indeed, Eric's expression was full of uneasiness, for he suspected that Pranken was now talking about him to Roland.

What can all education, all firm guidance effect, when one is not sure for a moment that some foreign influence is not working against it? We must comfort ourselves by thinking that no one man can form another, but the whole world forms each man. Eric, meanwhile, could not but dread what Pranken might be saying to his pupil.

First, Pranken asked whether Roland had read the daily portion in the book that Manna sent him.

Roland said, no, directly, and then came a confused jumble of Benjamin Franklin, of Crassus, of Hiawatha, of the observations of storms by the telegraphist, and of Bancroft's History of the United States.

Pranken nodded; he asked if Roland wrote often to Manna, and Roland said yes.

Pranken now told him that he had trained a snow-white Hungarian horse for Manna, and added: —

"You can tell her so. When you write, or not, as you please."

He knew, of course, that Roland was sure not to forget any information which he was allowed to impart, especially if it was about a snow-white horse with red trappings. Pranken promised that Roland should himself ride the animal some day.

"Has it a name?" asked Roland.

Pranken smiled; he perceived that his communication had interested Roland extremely, and he answered, —

"Yes, its name is Armida."

Just then Roland was called in, as he was needed for the sketch. When the outline was completed, the drawing was laid aside for awhile.

In a half-confidential, half-commanding tone, Pranken asked Eric to go out with him alone, and in a friendly, even unusually friendly manner, he entered into a discourse upon Roland's education. And now, for the first time, Eric heard Pranken speak seriously of his strict religious convictions.

He was amazed. Was this all put on, in order to win more securely the rich heiress educated in the Convent?

But it certainly was not necessary for Pranken, when no one could see and remark upon it, in travelling, and at the Baths, to unite himself so closely with ecclesiastics. Was it not rather probable that a conversion had really taken place in this worldly man, and that upon just such a nature the stability and unchangeableness of the Church would take the surest hold?

"I consider it my duty, and you will give me the credit of considering it a duty," said Pranken suddenly, laying his hand on his heart, "to give you some confidential information."

"If I can do anything, I shall feel myself honored by your confidence; but if I can be of no use, I would rather avoid an unnecessary share in a secret."

Pranken was astonished at this reluctance, and was inclined to be displeased, but he restrained himself, and continued, in a higher tone: —

"You know that Herr Sonnenkamp – "

"Excuse me for interrupting you. Does Herr Sonnenkamp know that you are making this confidential communication to me?"

"Good Heavens!" Pranken broke out, – "but no, I am wrong, I respect this regard to your position."

He was silent for a few minutes; it occurred to him that, instead of what he had meant to say, he might warn Eric not to have too much to do with Bella. But would not this be an insinuation against his sister? He decided to go back to his first plan, and said shortly, —

"I think I may tell you that I am almost a son of this house, Fräulein Sonnenkamp is as good as engaged to me."

"If Fräulein Sonnenkamp is like her brother, I can congratulate you heartily, I thank you for your unexpected, and as yet undeserved, confidence; may I ask why you have honored me with it?"

Pranken became more inwardly enraged, but outwardly still more flattering; he nervously worked his right hand, as if he were using a riding-whip, but he smiled very condescendingly and said, —

"I have not been mistaken in you." After a pause he continued: – "I acknowledge fully your considerateness."

He did not answer directly the question as to the cause of his confidence, and there was hardly time, for Roland now called Eric to the sitting.

"One would think ten years had passed since I left off drawing," said Bella, "you look so much older now."

Eric could not speak out his thoughts. The way in which Pranken had treated him, and the manner in which he had borne himself, disturbed him very much. He was sitting now quite still, but it seemed to him as if he were being rent asunder. He felt that there was something fundamentally false in his relations with Pranken. They were both aware of the contrast and discord which existed between them; they ought either to have been open enemies, or to have passed each other with indifference; and yet some spell seemed to draw them together, and to persuade them into apparent friendliness.

All misery springs from untruthfulness. The world would be quite a different place, and much misery would be saved, could we be true at all times, and not allow ourselves to be led into lasting relations and obligations, while we silence the inward remonstrance by saying, – It will all turn out well; the matter need not be taken so seriously. But in thousands of cases the lie is concealed, veiled, beautified, as in that Bible-story, where the serpent overcomes all opposition, all argument, by the words, – "Only eat, and you will not die, but only become wise."

The great punishment of a relation founded on false grounds is, that it constantly demands from us farther untruthfulness; either openly recognized as such, or concealed by our self-deception, and at last the lie takes on the appearance of virtue, changes all the foundation of our character, silences the protests which our better nature makes, and says, you must not desert your friend; you have been friends so long, you have received so much from him, and have done so much for him; it would break up your whole life; you would take a large portion from it, if you gave him up. No! you must now hold firmly together. And so the lie grows and poisons life. All sorrow and all unhappiness, all misunderstanding and deceit, arise from the fault that man will not be faithful to himself. The devil of lies goes about, seeking whom he may devour.

It is true there is no devil that you can see so as to describe him in the military style, but close by every divine idea which in its ultimate foundation is nothing but Truth, dwells the Lie, and is always capable of assuming the form and language of its neighbor.

All these thoughts were tossing and raging in Eric's soul as he sat for his portrait. Could any one at that moment have painted the picture of his soul, it would, have been an unparalleled distortion.

At last, Bella declared she could not draw him as he then looked, and the sitting was postponed.

They all went to dinner, which passed cheerfully, for the Doctor joined them. In the evening, they went out rowing on the Rhine, and Roland told how beautifully Eric could sing; but Eric could not be persuaded to give them a single song. He was bantered on having displayed his talent at the musical festival, by Pranken especially, who spoke in a friendly tone, but with a most cutting manner.

In the evening, when the fire-flies were darting here and there in the dusky park, Eric walked with Bella, while Clodwig sat in the balconied room, turning over the leaves of an album filled with new photographic views of Rome, and, at many a page, looking far away into the past.

Roland walked with Pranken, and they talked of Manna. Pranken knew well how to suggest what he should write of him. In walking, they passed and repassed Eric and Bella, and Pranken looked surprised at seeing his sister leaning on the young man's arm. Like glancing fire-flies, the brilliant flashes of wit lighted up their conversation, but left longer trains of light behind them. Bella and Eric spoke in a low tone, and often, as the others passed near them, they stopped speaking. Bella talked again about her good husband, – she always called him her "good husband," – and said how thoughtfully Eric understood him, not only, if she might say so, with his mind, but with his heart.

"You have made a new phrase," said Eric, and Bella repeated her newly-coined expression, with as much pleasure as if she had found a new style of head-dress which suited her face alone.

Eric was pedantic enough to go back to the original subject of discussion, and said warmly, how delightful it was to find Beauty and Peacefulness, not only in one's own ideal, but in real life; to reach out one's hand to them and look into their calm, clear eyes.

"You are a good man, and I believe an honest one," said Bella, and pulling off her glove she lightly tapped with it on Eric's hand.

"It is no merit to be honest," said Eric. "I could almost wish I could be untruthful; no, – not untruthful, but a little more reticent sometimes."

It was charming and edifying, to hear how Bella now extolled the beauty and happiness of a thoroughly honest nature; and she spoke in a tone of deep emotion, as she added, that she might have won early in life a most brilliant lot, if she could have feigned, a very little love. Eric did not know what to answer, and this caused one of those pauses which Pranken, passing with Roland, observed.

Bella went on to say, that it is always a blessing to do anything to help a human being; it falls to the lot of one person, to do this for a fellow-creature in the morning of life – here she bent her head towards Eric – while another does it for one in the decline of life, when the sacrifice, quiet and unrecognized, can only be rewarded by the consciousness of the service rendered.

At a bend of the road, it happened, very naturally, that Eric walked with Roland, and Pranken with his sister. Roland was jealous of Bella, of every person; jealous at every word, at every look, that Eric directed to any one but himself; he wished to have him wholly to himself. And as Roland now exhibited his childish humor, Eric shrunk into himself affrighted; he had not only allowed himself to be diverted from Roland, but perhaps also had been committing a wrong in a different direction. There was yet time for him to retrace his steps. He went to bid Clodwig good-night, and he was almost pleased to find that he had already retired to rest.