German Fiction

"Ah," he went on, "this piece of ice is the best thing in the whole breakfast… And now tell me, Herr von Wedell, am I right or not? Botho, with your hand on your heart, am I right? Is it not true that one, as a member of the Märkisch nobility, may talk oneself into a charge of high treason simply through the pure indignation of a nobleman? Such a man … from one of our very finest families … finer than Bismarck's, and so many have fallen for the throne and for the Hohenzollerns, that you could form a whole regimental company of them, a company with helmets, and the Boitzenburger to command them. Yes, my friends. And such an affront to such a family. And what for? Interception of documents, indiscretion, betrayal of official secrets. I should like to know if there is anything else left except child murder and offences against morality, and it is actually strange that they have not loaded those on also. But you gentlemen are not saying any thing. Speak out, I beg you. Believe me, I can listen to other opinions patiently; I am not like him; speak, Herr von Wedell, speak."

Wedell, whose embarrassment was increasing, sought for some soothing and reconciling words: "Certainly, Herr Baron, it is as you say. But, pardon me, at the time that the affair was decided, I heard many express the opinion, and the words have remained in my memory, that the weaker must give up all idea of crossing the path of the stronger, for that is impossible in life just as in politics. Once for all it is so: might is more than right."

"And there is no gainsaying that, no appeal?"

"Oh yes, Herr Baron. Under some circumstances an appeal is possible. And, to be perfectly frank, I have known of cases where opposition was justified. What weakness dare not venture, sincerity might, the sincerity of belief, the courage of conviction. In such cases resistance is not only a right but a duty. But who has this sincerity? Had he … But I will be silent, for I do not want to offend either you, Herr Baron, or the family to whom we have reference. But you know, even without my telling you, that he who had that audacity, had not such sincerity of belief. He who is merely the weaker should dare nothing, only the pure in heart should dare everything."

"Only the pure in heart should dare everything," repeated the old Baron, with such a roguish expression, that it seemed doubtful whether he was more impressed by the truth or by the untenability of the thesis. "The pure in heart should dare everything. A capital saying which I shall carry away with me. It will please my pastor, who undertook a controversy with me last autumn and demanded a strip of my land. Not for his own sake, the Lord forbid! but for the sake of principle, and of posterity, for which reasons he ought not to yield. The sly old fox. But the pure in heart should dare everything."

"Of course you would have to yield in the land quarrel with the pastor," said Botho. "I knew Schönemann long ago at Sellenthin's."

"Yes, he was a tutor there and knew no better than to shorten the lesson hours and lengthen the recreation hours. And he could play grace-hoops like a young marquis; really, it was a pleasure to watch him. But now he has been seven years in orders and you would never know the Schönemann who used to pay court to the charming mistress of the house. But I must admit this, he educated both the young ladies well, especially your Katherine…"

Botho glanced timidly at his uncle, almost as if to beg him to be discreet. But the old Baron, delighted to have seized upon so favorable an opportunity to enter on his favorite theme, went on in exuberant and ever-increasing good humor: "There, there, Botho. Discretion. Nonsense! Wedell is from our region and must know the story just as well as anyone else. Why should we keep silence about such things? You are already as good as bound. And God knows, young man, when I pass the young girls in review, you cannot find a better-teeth like pearls, and she is always laughing so that you can see the whole row. A flaxen blonde to tempt your kisses, and if I were only thirty years younger, I declare …"

Wedell, who noticed Botho's confusion, tried to come to his aid and said: "The Sellenthin ladies are all very pleasing, the mother as well as the daughters; last summer I met them in Norderney, and they were charming, but I would prefer the second…"

"So much the better, Wedell. You will not come into any conflict and we can celebrate a double wedding. And Schönemann may be sure that if Kluckhuhn, who is touchy like all old people, agrees, I will not only put a spoke in his wheel, but I will give up the strip of parsonage land to him without further ado if I can see such a wedding within the year. You are rich, dear Wedell, and there is really no haste about you. But look at our friend Botho. That he looks so well nourished is no thanks to his sandy wastes, which, excepting a couple of meadows, are really nothing but a nursery of young pines, and still less to his eel pond. 'Eel pond,' sounds wonderful, you might almost say poetic. But that is all. One cannot live on eels. I know you do not like to hear about this, but so long as we are on the subject, I may as well come out with it. How do matters stand, then? Your grandfather had the timber cut down and your late father-a capital fellow, but I never saw anyone play the man of affairs so poorly and so expensively too-your late father, I say, divided up the five hundred acres of eastern farming-land among the Jeseritz peasants, and there is not much good land left, and the thirty thousand thalers are long since gone. If you were alone, it might do, but you must share with your brother, and at present the mamma, my sister Liebden, has the whole still in her hands, an admirable woman, clever and skilful, but she does not err on the saving side. Botho, what is the use of belonging to the Imperial Cuirassiers and what is the use of having a rich cousin, who is only waiting for you to come and seal and ratify by a formal proposal what your parents had already agreed upon when you were still children? Why consider longer? Listen, if I could go to your mother to-morrow on my return and bring her the news: 'Dear Josephine, Botho consents; everything is arranged,' listen, boy, that would be something for an old uncle who means well by you to rejoice over. Speak to him, Wedell. It is time that he should quit this bachelor life. Otherwise he will squander his bit of property or get caught by some little bourgeoise. Am I right? Naturally. Done! And we must drink to the happy event. But not with these dregs…" And he rang the bell. "A bottle of Heidsieck. The best brand."

CHAPTER VIII

At about this same time there were at the club two young cavaliers, one of them, who was tall, slender and smooth-faced, belonged to the Gardes du Corps; the other, who was somewhat shorter, and had a full beard with only the regulation smooth chin, had been dismissed from the Pasewalkern. The white damask table cloth, which remained from their breakfast, had been turned back and the two were playing piquet on the bare half of the table.

"Six cards and four of a kind."

"Very well."

"And you?"

"Fourteen aces, three kings, three queens… And you don't make a trick." And he laid his hand on the table and then pushed all the cards together while his companion shuffled.

"Did you know that Ella is about to be married?"

"What a pity!"

"Why a pity?"

"She can't jump through the hoop any more."

"Nonsense. The more they are married the slenderer they grow."

"Yet there are exceptions. Many names belonging to the aristocracy of the circus already appear in the third and fourth generation, which seems to point to some alternation of a slender and a stouter form, or if you like, to the new moon, the first quarter, &c."

"You are mistaken. Error in calculo. You forget that there may be adoptions. All these circus people are secretly 'Gichtelianer' and pass on their property, their rank and their names according to agreement. They seem the same and yet they are different. There is always fresh blood. Cut… Besides that I have another bit of news. Afzelius is to join the General Staff."

"Which do you mean?"

"The one who belongs to the Uhlans."

"Impossible."

"Moltke values him highly and he must have done some excellent work."

"He does not impress me. It was all an affair of hunting libraries and plagiarizing. Any one who is a trifle ingenious can turn out books like Humboldt or Ranke."

"Four of a kind. Fourteen aces."

"Five sequence to king."

And while the trick was being played, one could hear from the billiard room near by the sound of the balls and the falling of the little pins.

In the two back rooms of the club, the narrow side of which looked out on a sunny but tiresome garden, there were in all only six or eight men, all silent, all more or less absorbed in their whist or dominoes, and not the least absorbed were the two men who had just been talking about Ella and Afzelius. The game ran high, and so the two did not look up until they saw, through an open curved niche, a new-comer approaching from the next room. It was Wedell.

"But Wedell, if you don't bring us a lot of news, we will excommunicate you."

"Pardon, Serge, there was no definite agreement."

"But almost. For the rest, you will find me personally in the most accommodating mood. How you can settle things with Pitt, who has just lost 150 points, is your affair."

Thereupon the two men pushed the cards aside and the young man whom Wedell had greeted as Serge took out his watch and said: "Quarter past three. Time for coffee. Some philosopher, and he must have been one of the greatest, once said that the best thing about coffee was that it was always suitable under all circumstances and at all times of day. Truly that was a wise saying. But where shall we take it? I think we had better sit outside on the terrace, right in the sun. The more one braves the weather the better one fares. Here, Pehlecke, three cups. I cannot listen to the falling of the pins any longer. It makes me nervous; outside, indeed, there is noise too, but it is different, and instead of the sharp strokes, we shall hear the rumbling and thundering of the underground railway, and we can imagine that we are on Vesuvius or Ætna. And why not? All pleasures are in the last analysis imaginary, and whoever has the best imagination enjoys the most pleasure. Only unreality gives value and is actually the only reality."

"Serge," said the man who had been addressed as Pitt at the piquet table, "if you go on with your famous wise sayings, you will punish Wedell more severely than he deserves. Besides, you must have some mercy on me because I have been losing. So, we will stay here, with the lawn behind us, this ivy near us, and a view of a bare wall. A heavenly location for his Majesty's guards! What would old Prince Pückler have said to this club garden? Pehlecke, here, bring the table here, that will do. And, to finish with, you may bring us some of your very best lager. And now, Wedell, if you want to win forgiveness, give your cloak a shake, and see if you cannot shake a new war or some other big piece of news out of it. You are related to God in heaven through the Puttkamers. With which branch I need not say. What more is he brewing?"

"Pitt," said Wedell, "I beg you, don't ask me any questions about Bismarck. For in the first place, you know that I know nothing about such matters, because cousins in the seventeenth degree are not precisely the intimates and confidants of princes, and in the second place, I come, instead of from the Prince, direct from a shooting match where with a few hits and many, many misses, no other than his Highness was the target."

"And who was this bold shot?"

"The old Baron Osten, Rienäcker's uncle. A charming old gentleman and a good fellow. But of course a sly dog also."

"Like all Märkers."

"I am one myself."

"Tant mieux. Then you know all about it yourself. But out with it. What did the old fellow say?"

"A good many things. His political talk was hardly worth reporting, but another bit of news was all the more important: Rienäcker has a sharp corner to turn."

"And what corner?"

"He is about to marry."

"And you call that a sharp corner to turn? I beg to disagree with you, Wedell; Rienäcker stands in a much more difficult position: he has 9000 marks a year and spends 12000, and that is the sharpest of all corners, at least sharper than the marriage corner. Marriage is no danger for Rienäcker, but a rescue. For that matter, I have seen it coming. And who is it then?"

"A cousin!"

"Naturally. A rescuer and a cousin are almost identical terms at present. And I will wager that her name is Paula. All cousins are named Paula these days."

"But this one is not."

"And her name?"

"Katherine."

"Katherine? Ah, now I know. Katherine Sellenthin. Hm! Not so bad, in fact a brilliant match. Old Sellenthin, he is the old man with the plaster over his eye, has six estates, and with the farms there are really thirteen. If divided in equal parts, Katherine will get the thirteenth thrown in. My congratulations."

"Do you know her?"

"Certainly. A wonderful flaxen-haired blonde with eyes as blue as forget-me-nots, but for all that she is not sentimental, and is less like the moon than like the sun. She was here at Frau Zülow's Pension, and at fourteen she was already surrounded and courted."

"At the Pension?"

"Not really at the Pension and not every day, but on Sundays when she went to lunch with old Osten, the one whom you have just seen. Katherine, Katherine Sellenthin!.. she was like a rail then, and that is what we used to call her, and she was the most charming little hoyden that you can imagine. I can still see her braid of hair, which we always called the distaff. And Rienäcker will now have a chance to spin it off. Well, why not? It will not be so difficult for him."

"After all, it may be more difficult than many think," answered Wedell. "And while he certainly needs his finances improved, yet I am not sure that he would decide at once in favor of the blond beauty from his own province. For you must know that Rienäcker has for some time past enjoyed another tint, indeed ash-blond, and if what Balafré lately told me is true, he has been seriously considering whether he should not raise his blanchisseuse to the rank of la dame blanche. He sees no distinction between Castle Avenal and Castle Zehden. A castle is a castle and, you know, Rienäcker, who for that matter, goes his own way in many things, was always in favor of naturalness."

"Yes," laughed Pitt. "That he was. But Balafré draws the long bow and invents interesting tales. You are sober, Wedell, and will not be ready to believe such made up nonsense."

"No, it is not imaginary," said Wedell. "But I believe what I know. Rienäcker, in spite of his six feet, or perhaps because of them, is weak and easily guided and is peculiarly gentle and tenderhearted."

"He certainly is. But circumstances will compel him and he will break away and free himself, at the worst like a fox out of a trap. It is painful and a bit of one's life is left behind. But the main thing is to get out again-out, out and free. Long live Katherine! And Rienäcker! What does the proverb say? 'God helps those who help themselves.'"

CHAPTER IX

That evening Botho wrote to Lena that he would come on the following day, perhaps even earlier than usual. And he kept his word and arrived an hour before sunset. Naturally he found Frau Dörr there. The air was very fine and not too warm, and after they had talked a while, Botho said:

"Perhaps we could go into the garden."

"Yes, either into the garden or somewhere else?"

"What do you mean?"

Lena laughed. "Don't be worried again, Botho. There is no one hiding in ambush and the lady with the pair of white horses and the wreaths of flowers will not cross your path."

"Then where shall we go, Lena?"

"Just out in the green meadows where you will have nothing but daisies and me. And perhaps Frau Dörr, too, if she will be so good as to go with us."

"Will she?" said Frau Dörr. "Surely she will. I feel much honored. But I must put myself to rights a little. I will be with you again directly."

"There is no need, Frau Dörr; we will call for you."

And so the plan was carried out, and as the young couple walked across the garden a quarter of an hour later, Frau Dörr was already standing at the door, a wrap on her arm and a marvellous hat on her head, a present from Dörr, who, like all misers, would buy something absurdly expensive once in a while.

Botho said something complimentary to the rather overdressed lady, and all three walked down the path and went out by a hidden side door and reached a little path, which before it led further and curved out into the open green fields ran along by the outer side of the garden fence where the nettles grew high.

"We will follow this path," said Lena. "It is the prettiest and the most solitary. No one comes here."

And certainly it was the loneliest path, far more silent and solitary than three or four other roads that ran parallel with it over the meadows towards Wilmersdorf and showed something of their own sort of suburban life. On one of these roads there were a good many sheds, between which there were horizontal bars somewhat like those used by gymnasts. These aroused Botho's curiosity, but before he could ask about them, the work going on answered his question: rugs and carpets were spread out on the frames and immediately began such a beating and banging with big sticks that a cloud of dust rose and nearly concealed the road.

Botho pointed out this dust and was beginning a discussion with Frau Dörr about the value or harmfulness of carpets, which, viewed in this light, are mere dirt catchers, "and if one has not a very strong chest one might get consumption and never know how." But he stopped short in the middle of a sentence, because the road he had taken led past a place where the rubbish of a stone-cutter's workshop had been thrown out, and all sorts of fragments of ornaments lay about, in great numbers especially angels' heads.

"There is an angel's head," said Botho. "Look, Frau Dörr. And here is even one with wings."

"Yes," said Frau Dörr. "And a chubby face too. But is it really an angel? I think it must be a cupid, because it is so small and has wings."

"Cupid or angel," said Botho, "they are just the same. You ask Lena, and she will tell you so. Isn't that so, Lena?"

Lena seemed offended, but he took her hand and they were good friends again.

Immediately behind the rubbish heap the path turned to the left and opened immediately afterwards into a somewhat larger country road where the willows were in bloom and were scattering their fleecy catkins over the fields, where they lay strewn about like cotton wool.

"Look, Lena," said Frau Dörr, "do you know that they stuff beds with that now instead of feathers? And they call it tree wool."

"Yes, I know, Frau Dörr. And I am always glad when people think of anything like that and make use of it. But it would never do for you."

"No, Lena, it would not do for me. You are right. I am more in favor of something firm, horse hair and a spring bed, and if it gives a jump …"

"Oh, yes," said Lena, who was growing a trifle nervous over this description. "But I am afraid that we shall have rain. Just hear the frogs, Frau Dörr."

"Yes, the frogs," repeated the latter. "At night they keep up such a croaking that one cannot sleep. And why? Because this is all swamp and only looks like meadow land. Look at the pool where the stork is standing and looking right over this way. Well, he isn't looking at me. He might have to look a long time. And a mighty good thing too."

"But we ought really to be turning back," said Lena, who was much embarrassed, and simply wanted to say something.

"Oh, no indeed," laughed Frau Dörr. "Surely not now, Lena; you mustn't get frightened at a little thing like that. Good stork, you must bring me … Or shall I sing: Dearest stork?"

And so it went on for a while yet, for it took time to get Frau Dörr away from such a favorite topic.

But finally there was a pause, during which they walked slowly onward, until at last they came to a plateau-like ridge that led over from the Spree towards the Havel. Just at this point the pasture land ended and fields of rye and rape seed began and continued as far as the first rows of houses of Wilmersdorf.

"Now let us go up there," said Frau Dörr, "and then we will sit down and pick buttercups and make a wreath out of the stems. It is always so much fun to poke one stem into another until the wreath or the chain is done."

"Yes, yes," said Lena, whose fate it was not to be free from small embarrassments. "Yes, yes. But now come, Frau Dörr, the path leads this way."

And talking thus they climbed the little slope and seated themselves at the top on a heap of weeds and rubbish that had been lying there since the previous autumn. This heap was an excellent resting place, and also afforded a good point of view from which one could overlook a ditch bordered with willows and grass, and could not only see the northern row of houses of Wilmersdorf, but could also plainly hear, from a neighboring smoking-room and bowling-alley, the fall of the ninepins and more plainly still the rolling back of the heavy ball along the two noisy wooden rods of its track. Lena enjoyed this, and took Botho's hand and said: "See, Botho, I understand that so well (for when I was a child we lived near such a bowling-alley) that when I just hear the ball hit, I know at once how much it will make."

"Well," said Botho, "then we can bet."

"And what shall we bet?"

"We shall think of something."

"Very well. But I only have to guess right three times, and if I say nothing it doesn't count."

"I am satisfied."

And so they all three listened, and Frau Dörr, who grew more excited every minute, swore by all that was holy that her heart was throbbing and that she felt just as if she were sitting before the curtain at the theatre. "Lena, Lena, you have undertaken too much, child; it really is not possible."

And so she would have continued, if they had not just then heard a ball hit and after one dull blow come to rest against the side guard. "Missed," cried Lena. And this was actually the case.

"That was easy, too easy," said Botho. "I could have guessed that myself. Let us see what happens next."

And then, two more strokes followed, without Lena speaking or moving. But Frau Dörr's eyes seemed to pop out of her head more and more. But now, Lena rose at once from her place, there came a small, hard ball and one could hear it dance, vibrating over the board with a tone in which elasticity and hardness were curiously mingled. "All nine," said Lena. And in a moment the falling of the ninepins was heard and the attendant only confirmed what scarcely needed confirmation.

"You have won, Lena. We must eat a philopena to-day and then we'll call it square. Isn't that right, Frau Dörr?"

"Why certainly," said Frau Dörr winking. "It is all square." And so saying, she took her hat off and began to swing it about as if it had been her market hat.

Meanwhile the sun had gone down behind the Wilmersdorf church tower and Lena proposed to start for home, "it was growing so chilly; but on the way they would play tag: she was sure that Botho could not catch her."

"We shall soon see."

And now they began chasing and running, and Lena actually could not be caught until at last she was so weak with laughter and excitement that she took refuge behind the substantial form of Frau Dörr.

"Now I have a tree to dodge around," she laughed, "and so you'll never catch me." And thereupon she took hold of Frau Dörr's rather loose jacket and pushed the good woman so cleverly to the left and right, that she protected herself for quite a while. But suddenly Botho was beside her and caught her and gave her a kiss.

"That is against the rules; we had not agreed on anything." But despite this protest she hung on his arm and commanded, imitating the harsh voice of the guard, "Forward march … double quick," and enjoying Frau Dörr's endless exclamations of admiration wherewith the good woman accompanied the game.

"Is it believable?" said she. "No, one can hardly believe it. And always just like this. And when I think of mine! It is unbelievable, I say. And yet he was a man too. And he always behaved so!"