Читать книгу What the Swallow Sang - Spielhagen Friedrich - Страница 7

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"I beg you to excuse me a thousand, thousand times," cried Fran Wollnow from the threshold of the door.

"That makes two thousand," said her husband, who with his guest had risen to meet her.

"You shan't always reckon up everything, you bad man."

"But take no notice of anything--"

"And you shan't always interrupt me and spoil my prettiest speeches. I had thought of the most charming things to say to our guest."

"Perhaps they begin with good evening?"

"Why, of course; good evening, and welcome, you are most heartily welcome," said Frau Wollnow, extending two plump little hands to Gotthold, and looking up into his face with the most eager curiosity in her brown eyes. "Dear me, how you have grown, and how much you have improved!"

Gotthold could not return the compliment. Ottilie Blaustein seemed to him to have grown much stouter, but neither taller nor handsomer than when he last saw her. Nevertheless the plump, somewhat flushed face beamed with mirth and good-nature, and it was by no means difficult for him to respond to the cordial greeting of his old acquaintance with no less warmth. She begged the gentlemen to sit down again; she would, with their permission, take a seat with them, and beg for a glass of wine, for she had been obliged to talk so much that evening that she was very thirsty. Then she instantly started up again, and asked her husband in a half whisper whether he had already showed it to him, in reply to which mysterious question Herr Wollnow smilingly shook his stately head. "I would not spoil your pleasure," said he.

"You good Emil!" she exclaimed, hastily kissing her husband on the forehead, and then turned to Gotthold. "Come, I must give you a proof that you obliged no ungrateful person when you enabled the little Jewish girl to join the dance. See, I bought this in remembrance of you, and would have purchased it if it had been as worthless as it is valuable, and as dear as the price for which I obtained my treasure was nominal."

She had seized a candle, and now led Gotthold to the landscape which had already attracted his attention, even across the room. The latter started, and with difficulty suppressed an exclamation of surprise and pain.

"It is Dollan, isn't it?" said Ottilie.

Gotthold made no reply; he took the candle from the lady's hand, and held it so that the light fell upon the picture, which was hung rather too high. Yes, it was the very one into which he had painted his love and anguish, the picture of which he had just spoken to Herr Wollnow, that had been upon his easel on the evening which had made such a wonderful change in his life. To prove to himself that he had irrevocably broken all ties with his past, and must now begin a new phase of his life and struggles, he gave away the sketch and did not destroy the picture, but very prosaically presented it to an exhibition, from which it went to another, then to a third and fourth, and was finally sold, he did not know where or to whom, nor did he wish to know; it should disappear to him. And yet during all this time he had been unable to shake off the recollection of this picture. He could have painted it again from memory, but it would not have been the one hallowed by so much suffering. And he must find it again, here and now, when his soul was already so full of the magic fragrance which everything he saw and heard bore to him from the days when every breath that swept across »his brow or fanned his cheek, exhaled the odor of pine trees, of the ocean, and of love.

"And how do you suppose I obtained it?" said Frau Wollnow; "and especially how do you suppose I found out it was yours; for you know we do not judge from the style, or at least I did not at that time. But when people are to have a piece of good fortune! So I said to Cecilia Brandow, whom I--it is now six years ago, and I had just been married--met at the wool market in Sundin, I had almost said; but of course only the gentlemen went there, and we drove in with them on account of the exhibition, where I met her. We had so much to say, like any two friends who had not seen each other since they left boarding-school--you perhaps do not remember that Cecilia and I were in the same boarding-school at Sundin--or at least I had a great deal to say, for I found Cecilia very quiet. I believe she had lost her second child only a short time before. We were separated by the crowd, and I at last found her again in one of the most out-of-the-way rooms, standing alone before this picture with her eyes full of tears, which, as I came up, she tried to conceal."

"Good Heavens!" said I; "isn't that--"

"Yes," she replied; "and it is by him."

"By whom?"

"In a word, she had recognized it instantly, and would not admit that she was mistaken when I told her the 'G. W.' in the corner might be Heaven knows whom. You see I didn't understand much about pictures then--now when I--but your hand trembles, you cannot hold the candlestick any longer."

"Let me have the picture," said Gotthold; then perceiving that the husband and wife were looking at him in surprise, he added calmly, replacing the candlestick upon the table: "The painting is really not worthy to be hung among your other pictures, which are excellent. It is the work of a pupil, and moreover was painted from memory after a very hasty sketch, I will promise you another and better one of the same place, which I will make on the spot if you will--"

"Oh! that would be delightful, that would be splendid," exclaimed Frau Wollnow. "I will hold you to your promise: another, not a better one, you can't make it better, that is impossible; but to have a picture painted on the spot by the most celebrated landscape painter of the day will be a triumph of which I can boast all the rest of my life. Give me your hand upon it!" She held out both hands to Gotthold.

"Well," said Herr Wollnow, "the bargain is made, and now according to the good old custom we will seal it with a drink. You see, Herr Gotthold Weber, woman's wit surpasses priestly cunning. I might have preached a long time to induce you to remain here; my wife comes, and the timid bird is caught. Well, I am glad of it, heartily glad."

"And how delighted Cecilia will be," cried Frau Wollnow. "My poor Cecilia! she really needs something to divert her thoughts a little, and this will be so pleasant." Gotthold turned pale. When he made his over-hasty promise, the thought of thus creating a convenient pretext for seeing Cecilia again had certainly been farthest from his mind.

"I think we can spare our friend the trouble of the journey," said Herr Wollnow, "and you will be perfectly well satisfied with a copy."

"You certainly know that we are not talking about a copy, but a new, entirely new picture," exclaimed Ottilie. "But you understand nothing about it, my dear Emil, or he doesn't want to understand."

"I only do not want to send our friend away again immediately, but to keep him with us."

"Tell the truth, Emil, tell the truth," said Frau Wollnow, shaking her finger at him. "The fact, Herr Weber, is simply that he can't bear Brandow, Heaven knows why. To be sure I can't either, and have no reason for it except that he always teased me at the dancing lessons in his malicious way. But I care nothing about him, only his angelic wife."

"And since husband and wife are one--"

"If everybody thought as you do, dear Emil--and I too, of course; but there is no rule without an exception, and the Brandow marriage is one so thoroughly bad and unfortunate that I really do not see why we--"

"Should talk so much about it," said Herr Wollnow; "and it is all the more unnecessary, as our guest can probably take no special interest in the subject."

"No interest," cried Ottilie, clasping her hands; "no interest. Pray, Herr Gotthold--how I keep falling into the old habit--excuse me--but do tell this man, who thinks Goethe's 'Elective Affinities' in bad taste--"

"Pardon me, I said immoral--"

"No, in bad taste; the evening of the day before yesterday, when we were talking about it at the Herr Conrector's, and you made the unprecedented assertion that Goethe had committed a perfidy--yes, you said perfidy--when he made the only person in the whole novel who uttered anything truthful about marriage-the mediator--a half simpleton."

"But what do you want with your elective affinities!" exclaimed Wollnow almost angrily.

"He don't believe in them," said Ottilie triumphantly, "and says that, like ghosts, they only haunt the brains of fools. But the fact is, he only pretends to think so, and secretly believes in them more than many other people; and now he is troubled, as a child is afraid of ghosts, at the thought that you will go to Dollan and see your old friend again."

"How absurdly you talk," said Herr Wollnow, scarcely concealing his painful embarrassment by a forced smile.

"Why, we have talked of nothing else all the evening in our little society," cried Ottilie. "You must know, Herr Gotthold, that there are three members of our dancing class here besides myself--all married now: Pauline Ellis--well, she perhaps will not interest you; Louise Palm, the girl with the brown eyes--we always called her Zingarella; and Hermine Sandberg--you know, that handsome girl, it is a pity that she was a little cross-eyed and stammered. We knew everything, everything down to the smallest particulars, especially your duel with Carl Brandow--"

"At which, however, so far as I can remember, none of the ladies you have mentioned were present," said Gotthold.

"Good!" exclaimed Herr Wollnow.

"No, it isn't good," said Ottilie pouting; "it isn't at all good or kind in Herr Gotthold to make fun of the faithful friendship people have kept for him for so many years."

"That was very far from my intention," replied Gotthold. "On the contrary, I feel highly honored and greatly flattered that my humble self furnished such charming ladies with a subject for conversation, even for a few moments."

"Go on with your jibes."

"I assure you once more that I am perfectly sincere."

"Will you give me a proof of it?"

"Certainly, if I can."

"Well then," said Ottilie with a deep blush, "tell me how the duel chanced to take place, for I will confess that one said one thing, and another another, and at last we found out that nobody knew. Will you?"

"Very willingly," said Gotthold.

He had noticed Herr Wollnow's repeated attempts to give the conversation another turn, and thought he could perceive that his host's former remarks had not been so entirely unpremeditated as they had at first seemed. Had Frau Wollnow told her husband a romance to suit her own fancy, and made him play Heaven knows what ridiculous part? He must try to put an end to such rumors, and believed that the very best way of doing so would be to fulfil Frau Wollnow's wish, and tell the story with the utmost possible frankness, as if it concerned a third person.

These thoughts passed rapidly through his mind as he slowly raised the glass of wine to his lips. He sipped a little of it, and then said, turning to Frau Wollnow with a smile:--

"How gladly, honored lady, would I begin my story with the words of Schiller: 'Oh! queen, you wake the unspeakably torturing smart of the old wound, but it won't do, it won't do. True, when there is any sudden change of weather I have a twinge in the wound, but it is by no means unspeakably painful; and at all events at this moment I feel nothing at all, except the profound truth of the old saying, that young people will be young people, and will play youthful pranks, oftentimes very foolish ones. To this latter category undoubtedly belongs my combat with Carl Brandow, which did not, however, as you suppose, originate in the dancing lessons, but was only brought to a decisive issue there, after it had long been glowing under the ashes, and even threatened once before to break out into light flames. The first cause was this. In our fifth form it was an old custom, most sacredly observed, that an open space should be reserved between the first bench and the lecturer's chair for the 'old boys,' which no 'new boy' was permitted to enter before the close of the first term, on pain of a severe thrashing. Carl Brandow, it is true, belonged to the 'old boys,' indeed the very old boys; for he had been in the fifth form three years, but was still on the last bench, although if I remember rightly, he had already passed his eighteenth birthday. I was one of the 'new boys,' one of the latest comers indeed; for I had just entered at Michaelmas, a lad of fourteen, to the no small annoyance of my father, who had prepared me himself, and expected I should be at once enrolled among the first classes. It was not without reason, for when at the end of the first week, according to custom, the rank of the different scholars was assigned from the result of certain exercises we called extemporalia, mine proved to be without fault, and I was transferred to my well-earned dignity of Primus omnium with a certain degree of ceremony. And yet I was not even now to be permitted to cross the space before the first bench! From the first moment I had felt this prohibition as an outrage; now I openly declared it to be one, and said that I would never submit to it, but on the contrary demanded the abolition of the brutal rule, not only for myself but all the new boys, whose champion I considered myself.

"In thus wording my demand I had really been guided only by my own intuitive sense of justice, without being actuated by any other motive; but the result proved that I could not have done better if I had been the most crafty demagogue. Standing alone, I should have had no chance of accomplishing my bold innovation; but now my cause was the cause of all, that is of all the 'new boys,' and chance willed that our numbers were exactly the same as those of the other party. Even in regard to bodily strength, which boys so well know how to rate according to age, we might probably have compared tolerably with them, and the little that was wanting would have been well supplied by the enthusiasm for the good cause which I unceasingly labored to arouse--if it had not been for Carl Brandow. Who could withstand this eighteen-years-old hero, slender and strong as a young pine? He would rage among us like Achilles among the Trojans, and strew the field--a retired open space in a little wood behind the school-house--with the bodies of the enemies he had hurled to the ground; for it was agreed that whoever in struggling should touch the earth with his back was to be considered conquered, and desist from the battle, which was to be decided in this manner before the eyes of six honorable members of the first class, who accepted the office of umpires with a readiness deserving of acknowledgment.

"Yet there was no retreat, even if we, which was not the case, had thought of making one. The hour arrived--one Saturday afternoon, on which we had contrived to evade the watchfulness of the teacher--and I do not believe that soldiers ordered to assault a battery vomiting death and destruction can feel more solemn and earnest than did we. I may say, especially I. I had caused the struggle; I had involved all the brave boys in it; I felt responsible for the result, and for the disgrace in case of defeat--an event which seemed more probable every moment. That I was determined to do my utmost and strain every nerve is a matter of course. I hoped and prayed the gods that Carl Brandow might fall to me--for the antagonists were to be drawn by lot, and only he who had conquered his opponent was permitted to choose from among those who had vanquished theirs until all was decided. I do not remember whether the senior boys, who devised these ingenious rules, had copied from Sir Walter Scott; I only know I have never read the famous description of the tournament at Ashby, in Ivanhoe, without being reminded of that Saturday afternoon--the shady forest glade, and the boyish faces glowing with courage and ardor for the combat.

"And, as in the tournament of Ashby, a wholly unforeseen accident in the person of the Black Knight, the Noir Fainéant, saved the hero's otherwise hopelessly lost cause, so it was here.

"Among the new boys was a lad of sixteen, with a frank honest face, which would have been handsome if it had possessed a little more animation, and the large earnest blue eyes had been a shade less dreamy. Although not tall, he was powerfully built, and we should perhaps have reckoned upon his assistance had not his indolence seemed to us to be very much greater than the strength he might possess, for he had never given any proof of it; and in reply to our eager questions about how he rated himself, merely shrugged his broad shoulders in silence."

"Curt Wenhof!" exclaimed Frau Wollnow.

"Yes, Curt Wenhof, my poor dear Curt," continued Gotthold, whose voice trembled at the recollection of the beloved friend of his youth. "I can see him now, as, after throwing his adversary to the ground as easily as a binder casts the sheaf behind him, he stood there as idly as if he had nothing more to do with the affair. I had also hurled my antagonist down and was just rising, gasping for breath, when Carl Brandow, who meantime had disposed of two or three, rushed upon me. 'Now,' I thought to myself, 'you must make it as hard for him as possible.' I did not dream of victory. But at the same instant Curt sprang before me; the next moment the two opponents had seized each other, and at the first grip Carl Brandow perceived that he had to deal with an adversary who was at least his equal in strength and courage, and, as the result proved, greatly his superior in coolness and endurance. It was a beautiful spectacle to see the two young athletes wrestling together--a spectacle we all enjoyed, umpires, victors, vanquished, and combatants; for by a silent agreement we had all formed a wide circle around them and watched every phase of the conflict with hope, fear, and loud cheers, according to the side to which we belonged, until at last a wild shout of exultation rang from my party, as Curt Wenhof raised his opponent, whose strength was utterly exhausted, and hurled him upon the turf with such violence that the poor fellow lay half senseless, unable to move.

"The conflict was decided, so said the seniors, and in truth it was; who would have ventured to cope with Carl Brandow's conqueror? In the joy of my heart I embraced the good Curt, vowed an eternal friendship with him, and then turned to Carl Brandow, who meantime had risen from the ground, and, as the leader of one party to the representative of the other, offered him my hand, expressing the wish and hope that an honorable peace might follow the honorable struggle. He took my hand, and I believe even laughed, and said he was not a fool to grieve over a thing that could not be helped."

"That's just like him," cried Frau Wollnow eagerly, "friendly and agreeable to your face, and malicious and cruel behind your back."

"You see my wife has already taken sides," said Herr Wollnow.

"Already!" exclaimed Fran Wollnow. "Why, I never thought or felt otherwise; I have always been against him, and certainly had good reason for it; I should like to know what would have become of me at those dancing lessons, if you had not come to my assistance so kindly. I shall never forget it, and it was all the more noble in you, because you cared nothing about me, but were in love with the beautiful Cecilia, which I never suspected."

"I fear it would be useless to contradict you."

"Entirely useless. I can see you now starting from the chair beside me, pale with anger and trembling in every limb, when Carl Brandow kissed Cecilia, and she burst into tears."

"And had I not reason to be angry!" exclaimed Gotthold. "It was an agreement among us young people that the kisses which were ordered in the games of forfeits were to consist in pressing the lips upon the hand. All were bound by it, even Carl Brandow; and until then the compact had been inviolably kept. I had a right not to suffer this insolent breach of the bargain, or permit it to pass unpunished,--a double right, since during the last year I had been to Dollan with Curt so often, and was on such friendly terms with the brother and sister, especially as Curt, as you may remember, in his indolent way, would not share the dancing lessons, and I might therefore be permitted to consider myself the legitimate protector of my friend. Moreover, Curt, whom I had with great difficulty pulled through the examination for the senior class, was not in favor with the teachers; a flagrant breach of the peace such as would now be necessary, would undoubtedly have caused him to be suspended; and finally I will confess I thought Carl Brandow intended to vex and insult me by his impertinence, and resolved to take up the gauntlet and fight out the battle for Curt as he had appeared for me. It was all youthful folly, my honored friends; I blush even now when I think of it, and so I will relate what remains to be told in as few words as possible.

"The preparations for the duel--for us proud seniors it must of course be a genuine duel"--continued Gotthold, "were conducted with all possible secrecy. Only those immediately concerned,--that is, the principals and seconds, to use this classic expression,--knew the place and hour. It was not difficult to procure weapons, for in spite of the strictest commands, there were at least half a dozen pairs of rapiers among us. Carl Brandow had one, and his particular friends told wonderful stories of his skill; but Curt was also the fortunate possessor of two good swords, with whose terrible clatter we had often, when at Dollan, startled the quiet woods from their repose. I had a quick eye, and, spite of my fifteen years, a firm hand, and Carl Braudow was probably no little surprised when, at the decisive moment, he found his despised opponent so well prepared; at least, he grew more restless and violent every moment, and thus made it possible for me, although he was really greatly my superior in skill, not only to hold my ground but even to change my posture to one of attack, and deal him a blow on the shoulder so deep that the blood flowed through the sleeve. The seconds shouted to us to stop. I instantly lowered my rapier, but in his frenzy of rage at his mischance he heard the shout and saw my gesture no more than I saw and heard anything of what happened to me during the next four weeks."

"He is said to have struck twice," observed Frau Wollnow; "the last time when you were lying on the ground."

"I do not believe it and never shall," replied Gotthold; "our seconds had certainly lost their heads and could not afterwards say positively how the affair had happened. But now, my clear Madam and Herr Wollnow, I fear I must have, exhausted your patience and will take my leave. Good Heavens! Twelve o'clock already! It is unpardonable!"

"I could have listened all night," said Frau Wollnow, with a deep sigh, as she also, but very slowly, rose from her chair. "Ah! youth, youth! people are never young but once."

"Thank God," said Gotthold gayly; "otherwise people would be compelled to play their foolish pranks twice."

"Who is so old as to be safe from folly," said Herr Wollnow, with a grave smile.

"You!" exclaimed his wife, embracing him. "You are much too old and far too wicked. People must not only be young, but also good, like our friend here, in order to be so badly rewarded for all his goodness. I can imagine how it went to your heart when Cecilia, married this Brandow. That sweet innocent girl of seventeen wedded to him! Ah! when we see such things it is enough to make us lose faith in mankind forever."

"This faith is not so frequently to be found either in Israel or elsewhere," said Herr Wollnow.

"Will you go?"

"I am going already, my dear Madam."

"Oh, dear! now you are beginning too. I meant to say, will you really go to Dollan?"

"I must do so now, even if I were not obliged to go on account of the picture."

"Why?"

"To restore my faith in mankind, at least the part most important to me, myself," replied Gotthold, with a smile, whose derision did not escape Herr Wollnow.

"I am very much displeased with you," said the latter, as he re-entered the dining-room, after accompanying Gotthold to the door.

"With me?"

"What must the man think of me? What a meddlesome awkward fellow he must consider me. It is a real piece of good fortune that I went no farther."

"But what have I done?"

"Why did you never tell me this famous narrative of your youth, from which it is very evident that he loved and probably still loves your friend Cecilia, as you call her, although I have never seen anything of the friendship."

"Do you really think so?" exclaimed Fran Wollnow, starting up and throwing her arms around her husband; "do you really think so? Did he tell you so?"

In spite of his vexation, Herr Wollnow could not help laughing.

"I should probably be the last person whom he would choose for his confidant, especially now, after I, stupid oaf, have been hammering away upon this subject for the last hour."

"On this subject? I really don't understand you, Emil."

"Don't understand me! Gracious, you clever soul! How difficult it is for women to see their way in matters they proudly condescend to consider their own. Don't understand me? Well, I can assure you that yonder enthusiast understood you perfectly, and will be on his way to Dollan early to-morrow morning."

"Well, I can't see any particular harm in that," said Frau Wollnow. "Why should not those two meet again, after so many years, even if they really do still love each other? I will give poor Cecilia the pleasure with all my heart--she needs consolation so much."

"As much as her worthy husband needs money. Day after to-morrow is the last day of grace for his note of five thousand thalers which is deposited with me. Perhaps he will help both: he has the means to do so."

"Oh! Emil, your everlasting prose is unbearable."

"I never promised you that you would find me a poet."

"Heaven knows that."

"It would be better for me if you knew it."

"Emil!"

"I beg your pardon. I am really so much annoyed that I can't help being spiteful. But that conies of meddling with other people's affairs. Let the fools do as they please, and come to bed."