The Lost Manuscript: A Novel

But although the Chamberlain possessed all the pliancy of a courtier, and knew that the visits to the Rector's house were acceptable both to his young master and the latter's father, he showed little complaisance for the young Prince's wishes. Indeed, he was inclined to make difficulties if the Hereditary Prince, which seldom happened, would propose to join Werner's at tea; he went there with him at proper intervals, but after the road affair he avoided any greater intimacy for the Prince. On the other hand, the Chamberlain endeavored to make the Prince at home with the students, and in a way that accorded with his rank. Of the different associations which were denoted by colors, customs, and statutes, the corps of the Markomanns was then the most distinguished. It was the aristocratic club, included many sons of old families and some of the best fencers; its members wore their colored caps in the haughtiest manner, were much talked of, and not very popular. The Chamberlain found a relative of his in this corps, and the leaders were found to possess the qualifications necessary to appreciate properly the social position of his young master.

Thus the Prince became intimate with the association, he invited the students to his apartments, sometimes joined in their lesser drinking bouts, and was agreeably introduced by them into the customs of academic life. He took fencing lessons, and, in spite of his small delicate figure, showed some aptitude for it, and the swing of the rapier in his room daily endangered the mirror and chandelier.

Ilse expressed her astonishment to her husband that the Prince, who had at first so quickly and easily opened his heart to them, had held back so cautiously since the road affair.

"Has he thought me too forward?" she asked, with vexation; "it was said with the best intentions. But I find, Felix, it is not with these great people as with us. If we once put confidence in people we feel at home with them; but they are like the birds that sing a song close to your ear, and then at once fly off and seek another resting-place far away."

"The following year they will perhaps come again," replied her husband; "any one who tries to domesticate them will be disappointed. If their airy path brings them near, you may take pleasure in them; but one should not trouble oneself about these triflers."

Nevertheless, in secret Ilse was vexed with the unfaithfulness of her little songster.

"My duty brings me to you to-day," began the Chamberlain, on entering the Professor's room. "Among the lectures which are desired for the Hereditary Prince is one upon Heraldry. I beg of you to recommend to me a teacher who could give him a short course upon the subject. In the capital, there was no suitable person, and I confess without blushing that my knowledge is much too scanty for me to be able to impart any to the Prince."

The Professor reflected.

"Among my colleagues I know no one whom I could recommend. It is possible that Magister Knips may have knowledge of that kind. He is well informed in all these by-paths of learning; but he has grown up in a low condition of life, and his manner is highly obsequious and old-fashioned."

This old-fashioned obsequiousness did not appear any hindrance to the Chamberlain; and as he himself wished to make use of the opportunity to ascertain clearly the meaning of a mysterious figure in his own coat of arms, which looked very much like a pitchfork, but which was really a Celtic Druid's staff, he replied:

"There need not be many lectures, and I can be present myself."

Magister Knips was called, and was, as usual, at hand, and was presented to the Chamberlain. The grotesque figure appeared comical to the latter, but not at all objectionable. His modesty was undeniable; his obsequiousness could not be greater. If one could put him into a tolerable coat, he might, for a temporary object, be allowed to sit at the same table with the Hereditary Prince and the Chamberlain. So the Chamberlain asked whether Master Knips could undertake to give some lectures upon heraldry.

"If the gracious and noble gentleman might be content perchance with German and French emblazonry, I believe I may venture to offer him my undoubtedly unsatisfactory knowledge. But of English coats of arms and figures my knowledge is not extensive, because of lack of opportunity. I would, however, endeavor to give some information upon the new investigations concerning the Honorable Ordinary."

"That will not be necessary," replied the Chamberlain; and, turning to the Professor, he said: "Will you allow me to arrange details with Master Knips?"

The Professor left them to transact the business, and the Chamberlain continued, more freely:

"I will, trusting to the recommendation of the Rector, endeavor to ascertain whether the Hereditary Prince can avail himself of your instruction and derive the proper advantages therefrom."

Knips bowed lower and lower, until he almost disappeared into the ground; but his head was reverently bent towards the eye of the Chamberlain. The latter mentioned a liberal sum as the price of the lessons. Knips smiled, and his eyes twinkled.

"I must further request, Master Knips, that you will not object to assume a becoming appearance for the intended lectures. A black coat, and trousers to match."

"I have them," replied Knips, raising his voice.

"White waistcoat and white cravat," continued the Chamberlain.

"I have those likewise," warbled Knips.

The Chamberlain considered it preferable to ascertain, by his own inspection, the capabilities of the candidate in this respect.

"Then I beg of you to make your appearance at the apartments of the Hereditary Prince in fitting guise. There we will confer upon details."

Knips appeared the following morning in his state dress, and the Chamberlain thought that the man did not look so bad after all. He gave him to understand that a learned discussion was not required, but rather a rapid survey, and, on his departure, presented to him a bottle of perfume, for his white pocket-handkerchief, in order to consecrate Knips' atmosphere.

Knips prepared himself for his first lesson. He began by drawing forth his paint-box, several complete letter-writers, and a book or two on etiquette. He painted several coats of arms, and from the books he abstracted some respectful forms of speech, such as the servile language of our Government officials have sanctioned in intercourse with the great, and learnt them all by heart. At the proper hour he presented himself to the Chamberlain, polished and fragrant, like a flower whose strength of stem had been extracted by the heat of the midday sun. Thus he was brought into the presence of the Prince, and almost withered into nothingness as he approached the chair in which he was to sit; he began his lecture by drawing out of a small portfolio a design of the Prince's ancestral coat of arms and a sketch of the Chamberlain's armorial bearings; he laid them before the Prince with the deepest reverence, and added his first explanations.

His lecture, to use the Chamberlain's own words, was magnificent; his obsequious arabesques which wound themselves into his discourse were prolix, it is true, but not disagreeable; they were comical, yet well-suited to the scrolls he was lecturing on. He frequently brought drawings, and books on heraldry, and engravings from the library for inspection, and showed himself more thoroughly informed than was, perhaps, necessary. If he chanced to fall into historical discussions, which were more interesting to him than his hearers, the Chamberlain would simply have to raise his finger, and Knips respectfully resumed the proper topic. The gentlemen took more pleasure in his lectures than in many of those given by the Magister's patrons. The lessons were continued throughout the term, for it was discovered accidentally that Knips had a good deal of knowledge of tournaments, tilting, and other knightly amusements. He told the Prince about the old festivities of his noble house, described the ceremonial accurately, and even knew the names of those who had assisted at them. His knowledge appeared wonderful to his hearers, though it cost him little trouble to collect this information. At the conclusion of the course he was richly rewarded, and his hearers regretted that this strange figure, with his old-fashioned knowledge, was no longer to lecture before them.

"Look here, mother," cried Knips, entering his room, and taking a small roll of money out of his pocket; "that is the largest sum I have ever earned."

The mother rubbed her hands. "My blessing upon the gracious gentlemen who know how to value my son!"

"To value?" replied Knips, contemptuously. "They know nothing about me or my learning, and the less one teaches them the better they are pleased. It is a labor for them even to look for what stands at everybody's disposal, and what has been put in hundreds of folios is new to them. I treated them like little boys, and they did not find it out. No, mother, they understand how to value me even less than the Professor world here. No one appreciates my knowledge. Yes, there is one that does," he murmured to himself, "but he has more pride than the Chamberlain. The Chamberlain seems to wish to inform himself about the old tilts and masquerades; I will send him my little edition of Rohr as a present. There is so little in it that it is good enough for him. I bought the book for four groschens; the parchment is still tolerably white. I will wash it with sal-ammoniac, and paste his coat of arms into it. Who knows what may come of it?"

He cleaned it, and prepared his paints.

"The world is full of tricks, mother. Who would have thought that I could have earned anything by this old absurd nonsense of heraldry?" He drew and painted at the coat of arms. "I have seldom brought gold into the house, and then it was always for underhand traffic that did me no honor." Here he broke off. "I will once more put on my livery when I take him the book, then put it out of sight."

In the district of Rossau the road surveyors put up their stakes, and at the University, Magister Knips placed the white pig's-skin binding in the hands of his illustrious patron.

Ilse rejoiced that the road to her father's estate would be useful to every one, and the professor heard with interest that the man whom he had recommended had succeeded well, and he smiled kindly at the expressions of gratitude tendered by the Magister. But for the good formation of the new road, and the approved dexterity of the little man, the happy couple, who in both cases had hit upon the right person, were to receive thanks that they did not desire.

CHAPTER XXIII.

PHILOPENA

One evening Ilse had placed the last remaining dainties of the holiday season on the table; Laura was rattling an uncracked almond, and asked the Doctor whence arose the time-honored custom of Philopena. The Doctor doubted the antiquity of the custom and could not explain its origin at the moment, but he was evidently perplexed at his uncertainty in the matter. Thus, he neglected to request the mutual pledge of the double almond. Laura cracked the shell and carelessly laid two almonds between him and herself, saying: "There they are."

"Shall we share them?" cried the Doctor, gaily.

"If you like," replied Laura, "giving and taking, as is usually done. But it must be only in joke," she added, thinking of her father; "and no presents."

Both ate the almonds with the laudable intention of losing the game. The consequence was that the affair did not advance. Laura, in the course of the following week, handed books, tea-cups, and plates of meat to the Doctor. He was dumb as a stick, and never said, "I am thinking of it." Had he forgotten the agreement, or was it his usual chivalry? But Laura could not remind him of his forgetfulness, otherwise she would win the philopena. She again became very angry with him.

"The learned gentleman does not hand anything to me," she said, to Ilse; "he treats me as if I were a stick."

"It must be unintentional," replied Ilse; "he has forgotten it long ago."

"Of course," cried Laura; "he has no memory for a pretty joke with such an insignificant person as I am."

"Make an end of it," advised Ilse; "just remind him of it."

It so happened that the Doctor, on one occasion, could not avoid picking up a pair of scissors, and handing them to her.

"I am thinking of it," said Laura; and added, pertly, "that's more than you do."

After that she offered the Doctor the sugar-bowl; the Doctor took a piece of sugar out civilly, but was silent.

"Good morning, philopena," she cried, contemptuously.

The Doctor laughed, and declared himself vanquished.

"It is not very nice of you," continued Laura, eagerly, "to have cared so little about your philopena. I will never eat one with you again; there is no honor in winning from gentlemen who are so absentminded."

Shortly after, the Doctor handed her a small printed book in beautiful binding. On the first page there was written, "For Miss Laura," and on the second, "The Origin of Philopena; a Tale." It was the history of the beautiful daughter of a king, who liked to crack and eat nuts, but would not marry; she accordingly invented the following stratagem. She presented to every prince who sought her hand-and they were countless-the half of a double almond, and she ate the other half. Then she said; "If now your Highness can compel me to take something out of your hand without saying the words, 'I am thinking of it,' I shall consent to marry you; but if I can induce your Highness to take something from my hand without saying these words, your Highness shall have your princely head shaven and forthwith leave my country." But there was a trick in the fulfillment of this contract; for according to the customs of the court no one could put anything into the beautiful Princess's own hand on pain of death, but he must give it to the lady-in-waiting and she would hand it to the Princess. But if the Princess herself chose to take or hand something, who could prevent her? Thus it became a bitter pleasure for the wooers. For however much they might endeavor to induce the Princess to take something out of their hands without the intervention of the lady-in-waiting, the latter always interposed and spoilt their best-laid plans. But when the Princess wished to get rid of a suitor, she was so gracious to him for a whole day that he was quite enchanted; and when he sat next to her, and was already intoxicated with joy, she took, as if by accident, something that was near her, – a pomegranate, or an egg, – and said, softly, "Keep this in remembrance of me." As soon as the Prince took the thing in his hand, and perhaps was preparing to say the saving words, the thing burst asunder, and a frog, a hornet, or a bat, flew out towards his hair, so that he drew back frightened, and, in his fear, forgot the words; whereat he was shaven on the spot, and sent about his business.

Thus years had passed, and in all the kingdoms roundabout, the princes wore wigs, – these have since become fashionable. Then it happened that the son of a foreign king, while traveling upon some business of his own, by accident saw the almond-queen. He thought her beautiful, and at the same he took note of the artifice that had ruined the hopes of her former suitors. Now a little grey dwarf in whose favor he stood, had given him an apple, at which he might smell once every year, and then a clever idea would occur to him. He had, therefore, become very famous amongst all kings on account of his clever ideas. Now the time of the apple had come; he smelt, and at once this bright thought came to him: "If you would win the game of giving and taking, you must under no conditions either give anything to her or take anything from her." And so he had his hands firmly bound in his girdle, went with his Marshal to court, and said he also would be glad to eat an almond. The Princess was much pleased with him, and had the almond handed to him. His Marshal took it and put it in his mouth. Then the Princess inquired what that meant, and why he always carried his hands in his girdle. He answered that his Court customs were even stricter than hers; and he must not take or give anything with his hands, but only with his feet or head. The Princess laughed, and said:

"In this way we can never manage our game!"

He shrugged his shoulders and answered:

"Only in case you will condescend to take things from my boots."

"That can never be," cried the Court in chorus.

"Then why did you come here?" exclaimed the Princess, vexed, "if you have such stupid customs?"

"Because you are so beautiful," returned the Prince; "and if I cannot win you I can yet look upon you."

"I can say nothing against that," answered the Princess.

So the Prince remained at Court, and came to please her more and more. But as she too was of a mischievous disposition, she endeavored in every way to mislead him and persuade him to draw his hand out of his girdle and take something from her. She conversed much with him, and made him presents of flowers, bonbons, and smelling-bottles, and at last even of her bracelet. Many times his hands twitched, but he felt the pressure of the belt and recollected himself, nodded to the Marshal who collected the things, and said:

"We think of it."

Now the Princess became impatient, and so one day she began after this fashion:

"My handkerchief has fallen down; could your Highness pick it up for me?"

The Prince took the handkerchief by the ends of his toes and waved it; the Princess bent down, took the handkerchief from his feet, and cried out, angrily:

"I am thinking of it."

A year had passed thus, and the Princess said to herself, "It cannot continue so; an end must be made of the affair, in one way or the other." So she began thus to the Prince:

"I have the loveliest garden in the world, which I will show your Highness to-morrow."

The Prince smelt at his apple again. When they came to the garden the Prince began:

"It is wonderfully beautiful here; that we may be able to walk together in peace, and not be disturbed by our game, I beg, my dear Princess, that you will adopt my Court custom, if only for an hour, and allow your hands to be bound. Then we shall be sure of each other, and nothing vexatious can happen to us."

This did not please the Princess, but he entreated and she could not refuse him this trifle. Thus they walked together, with their hands bound in their girdles. The birds sang, the sun shone warm, and from the branches the red cherries hung down almost touching their cheeks. The Princess looked up at the cherries, and exclaimed:

"What a pity it is that your Highness cannot pluck some of them for me."

The Prince answered, "Necessity is the mother of invention;" and seizing a cherry with his mouth he offered it to the Princess. Nothing remains for her but to put her mouth to his in order to take the cherry, and when she had the fruit between her lips, and a kiss from him in addition, she could not at the moment say, "I am thinking of it."

Then he exclaimed, aloud, "Good morning, Philopena," drew his hands out of his girdle and embraced her; they were of course married and if they have not since died, they still live together in peace and happiness.

This story the Doctor had written and caused to be printed especially for Laura, so that no one else could have the book.

Laura carried the book to her private room, looked with pride on her name in print, and repeatedly read the foolish little story. She walked to and fro reflecting; and when she thus considered her relations with Fritz Hahn, she could not feel easy in her conscience. From her childhood she had been under obligations to him; he had always been good and kind to her; and she, and still more her father, had always caused him vexation. She thought penitently of all the past, up to the cat's paws; the indefinite feeling she had concerning the "Philopena" was now clear to her; she could not be as unembarrassed as she ought to be, nor as indifferent as she would wish, because she was always under the heavy burden of obligation. "I must come to an understanding with him. Ah! but there is a barrier between him and me, – my father's commands." She revolved in her mind how, without acting against his commands, she could give the Doctor some pleasure. She had ventured something of the kind with the orange-tree; if she could devise anything that would remain unknown to those over the way there would be no danger; no tender relations and no friendship would arise from it, which her father might wish to avoid. She hastened down to Ilse, saying, "My obligations to the Doctor oppress me more than I can express; it is insupportable to feel myself always in his debt. Now I have bethought me of something which will bring this state of things to a conclusion."

"Take good care," replied Ilse, "that the affair is really brought to a conclusion that will stand in the future."

Laura went at once to the Professor, whom she found in his study, and asked in a merry voice if he could not aid her in playing a joke upon her kindhearted, yet unmanageable, neighbor. "He collects all sorts of antiquities," she said, "and I should like to get him something rare that he would like. But nobody must know that I have anything to do with it, himself least of all."

The Professor promised to think of something.

Some time afterwards he placed in Laura's hands a small torn volume, that looked reduced to a pitiful state. "They are single copies of old popular songs," said he, "that at some time or other have been bound together. I hit upon them by a lucky accident. The little book is valuable; to the amateur its worth is beyond proportion greater than the price. Do not be disturbed at its bad appearance. Fritz Will take out the separate songs, and arrange them in order in his collection. I am convinced you could not make him a present that would please him better."

"He shall have it," said Laura, contented, "but he shall suffer for it nevertheless."

It was a fine collection: there were some very rare pieces among them, an entirely unknown edition of the ballad of the unfortunate Knight Tanhäuser, the ballad of the Robber Toss Bowl, and a great many other charming selections. Laura carried the book upstairs, and carefully cut the thread of the bound sheets, which held them loosely together. She then sat down to her writing-table, and commenced an anonymous correspondence, which was made necessary by her father's tyranny, writing the following in a disguised hand: "Dear Doctor, an unknown person sends you this song for your collection; he has thirty more like these, which are intended for you, but only on certain conditions. First, you are to preserve towards every one, whoever it may be, inviolate secrecy in the matter. Secondly, you are to send for every poem another written by yourself, on any subject, addressed to O. W., at the Post-office. Thirdly, if you are willing to agree to this compact, walk past No. 10 Park street, with a flower in your button-hole, about three o'clock in the afternoon on one of the next three days. The sender will be exceedingly gratified if you will enter into this pleasantry. Truly Yours N. N." The song of Robber Toss Bowl was enclosed with this letter.

It was five minutes after nine by the Doctor's watch, which was confirmed by later investigations, when this letter was brought into his room; the barometer was rising; light, feathery clouds fleeted across the sky, and the moon's pale crescent shone forth from among them. The Doctor opened the letter, the green-tinted paper of which contrasted with the old printed sheet, yellow with age, that accompanied it. He unfolded the yellow sheet hastily, and read:

"Stortebecker und Godecke Michael,De rowten alle beede.""Godecke Michael and Toks Bowl, Knight,They fought all day and they fought all night."

There was no doubt it was the original low German text of the famous ballad, which had hitherto been lost to the world, that lay bodily before him. He was as pleased as a child with a Christmas-box. Then he read the letter, and when he came to the end, he read it again. He laughed. It was clearly all a roguish jest. But from whom? His thoughts turned first to Laura, but she had only the evening before treated him with cold contempt. Ilse was not to be thought of, and such playful mischief was very unlike the Professor. What did the house No. 10 mean? The young actress who lived there was said to be a very charming and enterprising young lady. Was it possible she could have any knowledge of folk-songs, and, the Doctor could not help thinking, a tender feeling for himself? The good Fritz chanced to step before the mirror for a moment, and he at once uttered an inward protest against the possibility of such an idea, and, laughing, he went back to his writing-table and to his popular song. He could not enter into the pleasantry, that was clear, but it was a pity. He laid the Robber Toss Bowl aside, and returned to his work. After a time, however, he took it up again. This valuable contribution had been sent to him, at all events, without any humiliating condition; perhaps he might be allowed to keep it. He opened a portfolio of old folk-songs, and placed it in its order as if it had been his own. Having laid the treasure in its proper place, he restored the portfolio to the bookshelf, and thought, it is a matter of indifference where the sheet lies.