diff options
Diffstat (limited to '8663.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 8663.txt | 5528 |
1 files changed, 5528 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/8663.txt b/8663.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..461f3cc --- /dev/null +++ b/8663.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5528 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales of Two Countries, by Alexander Kielland + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tales of Two Countries + +Author: Alexander Kielland + +Commentator: H. H. Boyesen + +Translator: William Archer + +Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8663] +Posting Date: August 10, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES *** + + + + +Produced by Nicole Apostola + + + + + +TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES + +By Alexander Kielland + +Translated From The Norwegian By William Archer + +With An Introduction By H. H. Boyesen + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PHARAOH + THE PARSONAGE + THE PEAT MOOR + "HOPE'S CLAD IN APRIL GREEN" + AT THE FAIR + TWO FRIENDS + A GOOD CONSCIENCE + ROMANCE AND REALITY + WITHERED LEAVES + THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + +In June, 1867, about a hundred enthusiastic youths were vociferously +celebrating the attainment of the baccalaureate degree at the +University of Norway. The orator on this occasion was a tall, handsome, +distinguished-looking young man named Alexander Kielland, from the +little coast-town of Stavanger. There was none of the crudity of a +provincial dither in his manners or his appearance. He spoke with a +quiet self-possession and a pithy incisiveness which were altogether +phenomenal. + +"That young man will be heard from one of these days," was the unanimous +verdict of those who listened to his clear-cut and finished sentences, +and noted the maturity of his opinions. + +But ten years passed, and outside of Stavanger no one ever heard of +Alexander Kielland. His friends were aware that he had studied law, +spent some winters in France, married, and settled himself as a +dignitary in his native town. It was understood that he had bought +a large brick and tile factory, and that, as a manufacturer of these +useful articles, he bid fair to become a provincial magnate, as his +fathers had been before him. People had almost forgotten that great +things had been expected of him; and some fancied, perhaps, that he +had been spoiled by prosperity. Remembering him, as I did, as the most +brilliant and notable personality among my university friends, I began +to apply to him Malloch's epigrammatic damnation of the man of whom +it was said at twenty that he would do great things, at thirty that +he might do great things, and at forty that he might have done great +things. + +This was the frame of mind of those who remembered Alexander Kielland +(and he was an extremely difficult man to forget), when in the year 1879 +a modest volume of "novelettes" appeared, bearing his name. It was, to +all appearances, a light performance, but it revealed a sense of style +which made it, nevertheless, notable. No man had ever written the +Norwegian language as this man wrote it. There was a lightness of touch, +a perspicacity, an epigrammatic sparkle and occasional flashes of wit, +which seemed altogether un-Norwegian. It was obvious that this author +was familiar with the best French writers, and had acquired through +them that clear and crisp incisiveness of utterance which was supposed, +hitherto, to be untransferable to any other tongue. + +As regards the themes of these "novelettes" (from which the present +collection is chiefly made up), it was remarked at the time of their +first appearance that they hinted at a more serious purpose than their +style seemed to imply. Who can read, for instance, "Pharaoh" (which +in the original is entitled "A Hall Mood") without detecting the +revolutionary note which trembles quite audibly through the calm +and unimpassioned language? There is, by-the-way, a little touch of +melodrama in this tale which is very unusual with Kielland. "Romance +and Reality," too, is glaringly at variance with the conventional +romanticism in its satirical contributing of the pre-matrimonial and the +post-matrimonial view of love and marriage. The same persistent tendency +to present the wrong side as well as the right side--and not, as +literary good-manners are supposed to prescribe, ignore the former--is +obvious in the charming tale "At the Fair," where a little spice of +wholesome truth spoils the thoughtlessly festive mood; and the squalor, +the want, the envy, hate, and greed which prudence and a regard for +business compel the performers to disguise to the public, become the +more cruelly visible to the visitors of the little alley-way at the rear +of the tents. In "A Good Conscience" the satirical note has a still more +serious ring; but the same admirable self-restraint which, next to the +power of thought and expression, is the happiest gift an author's fairy +godmother can bestow upon him, saves Kielland from saying too much--from +enforcing his lesson by marginal comments, _a la_ George Eliot. But he +must be obtuse, indeed, to whom this reticence is not more eloquent and +effective than a page of philosophical moralizing. + +"Hope's Clad in April Green" and "The Battle of Waterloo" (the first and +the last tale in the Norwegian edition), are more untinged with a moral +tendency than any of the foregoing. The former is a mere _jeu d'esprit_, +full of good-natured satire on the calf-love of very young people, and +the amusing over-estimate of our importance to which we are all, at that +age, peculiarly liable. + +As an organist with vaguely-melodious hints foreshadows in his prelude +the musical _motifs_ which he means to vary and elaborate in his fugue, +so Kielland lightly touched in these "novelettes" the themes which in +his later works he has struck with a fuller volume and power. What he +gave in this little book was it light sketch of his mental physiognomy, +from which, perhaps, his horoscope might be cast and his literary future +predicted. + +Though an aristocrat by birth and training, he revealed a strong +sympathy with the toiling masses. But it was a democracy of the brain, I +should fancy, rather than of the heart. As I read the book, twelve years +ago, its tendency puzzled me considerably, remembering, as I did, with +the greatest vividness, the fastidious and elegant personality of the +author. I found it difficult to believe that he was in earnest. The +book seemed to me to betray the whimsical _sans-culottism_ of a man of +pleasure who, when the ball is at an end, sits down with his gloves +on and philosophizes on the artificiality of civilization and the +wholesomeness of honest toil. An indigestion makes him a temporary +communist; but a bottle of seltzer presently reconciles him to his lot, +and restores the equilibrium of the universe. He loves the people at a +distance, can talk prettily about the sturdy son of the soil, who is +the core and marrow of the nation, etc.; but he avoids contact with +him, and, if chance brings them into contact, he loves him with his +handkerchief to his nose. + +I may be pardoned for having identified Alexander Kielland with this +type with which I am very familiar; and he convinced me, presently, that +I had done him injustice. In his next book, the admirable novel _Garman +and Worse_, he showed that his democratic proclivities were something +more than a mood. He showed that he took himself seriously, and he +compelled the public to take him seriously. The tendency which had only +flashed forth here and there in the "novelettes" now revealed its +whole countenance. The author's theme was the life of the prosperous +bourgeoisie in the western coast-towns; he drew their types with a hand +that gave evidence of intimate knowledge. He had himself sprung from +one of these rich ship-owning, patrician families, had been given every +opportunity to study life both at home and abroad, and had accumulated +a fund of knowledge of the world, which he had allowed quietly to grow +before making literary drafts upon it. The same Gallic perspicacity +of style which had charmed in his first book was here in a heightened +degree; and there was, besides, the same underlying sympathy with +progress and what is called the ideas of the age. What mastery of +description, what rich and vigorous colors Kielland had at his disposal +was demonstrated in such scenes as the funeral of Consul Garman and the +burning of the ship. There was, moreover, a delightful autobiographical +note in the book, particularly in boyish experiences of Gabriel Garman. +Such things no man invents, however clever; such material no imagination +supplies, however fertile. Except Fritz Reuter's Stavenhagen, I know no +small town in fiction which is so vividly and completely individualized, +and populated with such living and credible characters. Take, for +instance, the two clergymen, Archdeacon Sparre and the Rev. Mr. Martens, +and it is not necessary to have lived in Norway in order to recognize +and enjoy the faithfulness and the artistic subtlety of these portraits. +If they have a dash of satire (which I will not undertake to deny), it +is such delicate and well-bred satire that no one, except the originals, +would think of taking offence. People are willing, for the sake of the +entertainment which it affords, to forgive a little quiet malice at +their neighbors' expense. The members of the provincial bureaucracy are +drawn with the same firm but delicate touch, and everything has that +beautiful air of reality which proves the world akin. + +It was by no means a departure from his previous style and tendency +which Kielland signalized in his next novel, _Laboring People_ (1881). +He only emphasizes, as it were, the heavy, serious bass chords in the +composite theme which expresses his complex personality, and allows the +lighter treble notes to be momentarily drowned. Superficially speaking, +there is perhaps a reminiscence of Zola in this book, not in the manner +of treatment, but in the subject, which is the corrupting influence of +the higher classes upon the lower. There is no denying that in spite +of the ability, which it betrays in every line, _Laboring People_ is +unpleasant reading. It frightened away a host of the author's early +admirers by the uncompromising vigor and the glaring realism with +which it depicted the consequences of vicious indulgence. It showed +no consideration for delicate nerves, but was for all that a clean and +wholesome book. + +Kielland's third novel, _Skipper Worse_, marked a distinct step in his +development. It was less of a social satire and more of a social study. +It was not merely a series of brilliant, exquisitely-finished scenes, +loosely strung together on a slender thread of narrative, but it was +a concise, and well constructed story, full of beautiful scenes +and admirable portraits. The theme is akin to that of Daudet's +_L'Evangeliste_; but Kielland, as it appears to me, has in this instance +outdone his French _confrere_ as regards insight into the peculiar +character and poetry of the pietistic movement. He has dealt with it +as a psychological and not primarily as a pathological phenomenon. A +comparison with Daudet suggests itself constantly in reading Kielland. +Their methods of workmanship and their attitude towards life have many +points in common. The charm of style, the delicacy of touch and felicity +of phrase, is in both cases pre-eminent. Daudet has, however, the +advantage (or, as he himself asserts, the disadvantage) of working in +a flexible and highly-finished language, which bears the impress of the +labors of a hundred masters; while Kielland has to produce his effects +of style in a poorer and less pliable language, which often pants and +groans in its efforts to render a subtle thought. To have polished this +tongue and sharpened its capacity for refined and incisive utterance is +one--and not the least--of his merits. + +Though he has by nature no more sympathy with the pietistic movement +than Daudet, Kielland yet manages to get, psychologically, closer to his +problem. His pietists are more humanly interesting than those of +Daudet, and the little drama which they set in motion is more genuinely +pathetic. Two superb figures--the lay preacher, Hans Nilsen, and Skipper +Worse--surpass all that the author had hitherto produced, in depth of +conception and brilliancy of execution. The marriage of that delightful, +profane old sea-dog Jacob Worse, with the pious Sara Torvested, and the +attempts of his mother-in-law to convert him, are described, not with +the merely superficial drollery to which the subject invites, but with a +sweet and delicate humor, which trembles on the verge of pathos. + +The beautiful story _Elsie_, which, though published separately, is +scarcely a full-grown novel, is intended to impress society with a sense +of responsibility for its outcasts. While Bjoernstjerne Bjoernson is fond +of emphasizing the responsibility of the individual to society, Kielland +chooses by preference to reverse the relation. The former (in his +remarkable novel _Flags are Flying in City and Harbor_) selects a +hero with vicious inherited tendencies, redeemed by wise education and +favorable environment; the latter portrays in Elsie a heroine with no +corrupt predisposition, destroyed by the corrupting environment which +society forces upon those who are born in her circumstances. Elsie could +not be good, because the world is so constituted that girls of her kind +are not expected to be good. Temptations, perpetually thronging in her +way, break down the moral bulwarks of her nature. Resistance seems in +vain. In the end there is scarcely one who, having read her story, will +have the heart to condemn her. + +Incomparably clever is the satire on the benevolent societies, which +appear to exist as a sort of moral poultice to tender consciences, and +to furnish an officious sense of virtue to its prosperous members. "The +Society for the Redemption of the Abandoned Women of St. Peter's Parish" +is presided over by a gentleman who privately furnishes subjects for his +public benevolence. However, as his private activity is not bounded by +the precincts of St. Peter's Parish, within which the society confines +its remedial labors, the miserable creatures who might need its aid +are sent away uncomforted. The delicious joke of the thing is that "St. +Peter's" is a rich and exclusive parish, consisting of what is called +"the better classes," and has no "abandoned women." Whatever wickedness +there may be in St. Peter's is discreetly veiled, and makes no claim +upon public charity. The virtuous horror of the secretary when she +hears that the "abandoned woman" who calls upon her for aid has a child, +though she is unmarried, is both comic and pathetic. It is the clean, +"deserving poor," who understand the art of hypocritical humility--it is +these whom the society seeks in vain in St. Peter's Parish. + +Still another problem of the most vital consequence Kielland has +attacked in his two novels, _Poison_ and _Fortuna_ (1884). It is, +broadly stated, the problem of education. The hero in both books is +Abraham Loevdahl, a well-endowed, healthy, and altogether promising boy +who, by the approved modern educational process, is mentally and +morally crippled, and the germs of what is great and good in him are +systematically smothered by that disrespect for individuality and +insistence upon uniformity, which are the curses of a small society. +The revolutionary discontent which vibrates in the deepest depth of +Kielland's nature; the profound and uncompromising radicalism which +smoulders under his polished exterior; the philosophical pessimism +which relentlessly condemns all the flimsy and superficial reformatory +movements of the day, have found expression in the history of the +childhood, youth, and manhood of Abraham Lvdahl. In the first place, it +is worthy of note that to Kielland the knowledge which is offered in +the guise of intellectual nourishment is poison. It is the dry and dusty +accumulation of antiquarian lore, which has little or no application +to modern life--it is this which the young man of the higher classes is +required to assimilate. Apropos of this, let me quote Dr. G. Brandes, +who has summed up the tendency of these two novels with great felicity: + +"The author has surveyed the generation to which he himself belongs, and +after having scanned these wide domains of emasculation, these prairies +of spiritual sterility, these vast plains of servility and irresolution, +he has addressed to himself the questions: How does a whole generation +become such? How was it possible to nip in the bud all that was +fertile and eminent? And he has painted a picture of the history of the +development of the present generation in the home-life and school-life +of Abraham Loevdahl, in order to show from what kind of parentage those +most fortunately situated and best endowed have sprung, and what kind +of education they received at home and in the school. This is, indeed, a +simple and an excellent theme. + +"We first see the child led about upon the wide and withered common +of knowledge, with the same sort of meagre fodder for all; we see it +trained in mechanical memorizing, in barren knowledge concerning things +and forms that are dead and gone; in ignorance concerning the life +that is, in contempt for it, and in the consciousness of its privileged +position, by dint of its possession of this doubtful culture. We see +pride strengthened; the healthy curiosity, the desire to ask questions, +killed." + +We are apt to console ourselves on this side of the ocean with the idea +that these social problems appertain only to the effete monarchies of +Europe, and have no application with us. But, though I readily admit +that the keenest point of this satire is directed against the small +States which, by the tyranny of the dominant mediocrity, cripple much +that is good and great by denying it the conditions of growth and +development, there is yet a deep and abiding lesson in these two novels +which applies to modern civilization in general, exposing glaring +defects which are no less prevalent here than in the Old World. + +Besides being the author of some minor comedies and a full-grown drama +("The Professor"), Kielland has published two more novels, _St. John's +Eve_ (1887) and _Snow_. The latter is particularly directed against +the orthodox Lutheran clergy, of which the Rev. Daniel Juerges is an +excellent specimen. He is, in my opinion, not in the least caricatured; +but portrayed with a conscientious desire to do justice to his +sincerity. Mr. Juerges is a worthy type of the Norwegian country pope, +proud and secure in the feeling of his divine authority, passionately +hostile to "the age," because he believes it to be hostile to Christ; +intolerant of dissent; a guide and ruler of men, a shepherd of the +people. The only trouble in Norway, as elsewhere, is that the people +will no longer consent to be shepherded. They refuse to be guided and +ruled. They rebel against spiritual and secular authority, and follow +no longer the bell-wether with the timid gregariousness of servility and +irresolution. To bring the new age into the parsonage of the reverend +obscurantist in the shape of a young girl--the _fiancee_ of the pastor's +son--was an interesting experiment which gives occasion for strong +scenes and, at last, for a drawn battle between the old and the new. The +new, though not acknowledging itself to be beaten, takes to its heels, +and flees in the stormy night through wind and snow. But the snow is +moist and heavy; it is beginning to thaw. There is a vague presentiment +of spring in the air. + +This note of promise and suspense with which the book ends is meant to +be symbolic. From Kielland's point of view, Norway is yet wrapped in the +wintry winding-sheet of a tyrannical orthodoxy; and all that he dares +assert is that the chains of frost and snow seem to be loosening. There +is a spring feeling in the air. + +This spring feeling is, however, scarcely perceptible in his last book, +_Jacob_, which is written in anything but a hopeful mood. It is, rather, +a protest against that optimism which in fiction we call poetic justice. +The harsh and unsentimental logic of reality is emphasized with a +ruthless disregard of rose-colored traditions. The peasant lad Wold, +who, like all Norse peasants, has been brought up on the Bible, has +become deeply impressed with the story of Jacob, and God's persistent +partisanship for him, in spite of his dishonesty and tricky behavior. +The story becomes, half unconsciously, the basis of his philosophy of +life, and he undertakes to model his career on that of the Biblical +hero. He accordingly cheats and steals with a clever moderation, and in +a cautious and circumspect manner which defies detection. Step by step +he rises in the regard of his fellow-citizens; crushes, with long-headed +calculation or with brutal promptness (as it may suit his purpose) +all those who stand in his way, and arrives at last at the goal of his +desires. He becomes a local magnate, a member of parliament, where he +poses as a defender of the simple, old-fashioned orthodoxy, is decorated +by the King, and is an object of the envious admiration of his fellow +townsmen. + +From the pedagogic point of view, I have no doubt that _Jacob_ would be +classed as an immoral book. But the question of its morality is of +less consequence than the question as to its truth. The most modern +literature, which is interpenetrated with the spirit of the age, has a +way of asking dangerous questions--questions before which the reader, +when he perceives their full scope, stands aghast. Our old idyllic faith +in the goodness and wisdom of all mundane arrangements has undoubtedly +received a shock from which it will never recover. Our attitude towards +the universe is changing with the change of its attitude towards us. +What the thinking part of humanity is now largely engaged in doing is to +readjust itself towards the world and the world towards it. Success is +but a complete adaptation to environment; and success is the supreme +aim of the modern man. The authors who, by their fearless thinking +and speaking, help us towards this readjustment should, in my opinion, +whether we choose to accept their conclusions or not, be hailed as +benefactors. It is in the ranks of these that Alexander Kielland has +taken his place, and now occupies a conspicuous position. + +HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN. + +NEW YORK, May 15, 1891. + + + + + +PHARAOH. + +She had mounted the shining marble steps with without mishap, without +labor, sustained by her great beauty and her fine nature alone. She had +taken her place in the salons of the rich and great without laying for +her admittance with her honor or her good name. Yet no one could say +whence she came, though people whispered that it was from the depths. + +As a waif of a Parisian faubourg, she had starved through her childhood +among surroundings of vice and poverty, such as those only can conceive +who know them by experience. Those of us who get our knowledge from +books and from hearsay have to strain our imagination in order to form +an idea of the hereditary misery of a great city, and yet our most +terrible imaginings are apt to pale before the reality. + +It had been only a question of time when vice should get its clutches +upon her, as a cog-wheel seizes whoever comes too near the machine. +After whirling her around through a short life of shame and degradation, +it would, with mechanical punctuality, have cast her off into some +corner, there to drag out to the end, in sordid obscurity, her +caricature of an existence. + +But it happened, as it does sometimes happen, that she was "discovered" +by a man of wealth and position, one day when, a child of fourteen, she +happened to cross one of the better streets. She was on her way to a +dark back room in the Rue des Quatre Vents, where she worked with a +woman who made artificial flowers. + +It was not only her extraordinary beauty that attracted her patron; +her movements, her whole bearing, and the expression of her half-formed +features, all seemed to him to show that here was an originally fine +nature struggling against incipient corruption. Moved by one of the +incalculable whims of the very wealthy, he determined to try to rescue +the unhappy child. + +It was not difficult to obtain control of her, as she belonged to no +one. He gave her a name, and placed her in one of the best convent +schools. Before long her benefactor had the satisfaction of observing +that the seeds of evil died away and disappeared. She developed an +amiable, rather indolent character, correct and quiet manners, and a +rare beauty. + +When she grew up he married her. Their married life was peaceful +and pleasant; in spite of the great difference in their ages, he had +unbounded confidence in her, and she deserved it. + +Married people do not live in such close communion in France as they +do with us; so that their claims upon each other are not so great, and +their disappointments are less bitter. + +She was not happy, but contented. Her character lent itself to +gratitude. She did not feel the tedium of wealth; on the contrary, she +often took an almost childish pleasure in it. But no one could guess +that, for her bearing was always full of dignity and repose. People +suspected that there was something questionable about her origin, but as +no one could answer questions they left off asking them. One has so much +else to think of in Paris. + +She had forgotten her past. She had forgotten it just as we +have forgotten the roses, the ribbons, and faded letters of our +youth--because we never think about them. They lie locked up in a drawer +which we never open. And yet, if we happen now and again to cast a +glance into this secret drawer, we at once notice if a single one of the +roses, or the least bit of ribbon, is wanting. For we remember them all +to a nicety; the memories are ran fresh as ever--as sweet as ever, and +as bitter. + +It was thus she had forgotten her past--locked it up and thrown away the +key. + +But at night she sometimes dreamed frightful things. She could once more +feel the old witch with whom she lived shaking her by the shoulder, and +driving her out in the cold mornings to work at her artificial flowers. + +Then she would jump up in her bed, and stare out into the darkness in +the most deadly fear. But presently she would touch the silk coverlet +and the soft pillows; her fingers would follow the rich carvings of her +luxurious bed; and while sleepy little child-angels slowly drew aside +the heavy dream-curtain, she tasted in deep draughts the peculiar, +indescribable well-being we feel when we discover that an evil and +horrible dream was a dream and nothing more. + +***** + +Leaning back among the soft cushions, she drove to the great ball at +the Russian ambassador's. The nearer they got to their destination the +slower became the pace, until the carriage reached the regular queue, +where it dragged on at a foot-pace. + +In the wide square in front of the hotel, brilliantly lighted with +torches and with gas, a great crowd of people had gathered. Not only +passers-by who had stopped to look on, but more especially workmen, +loafers, poor women, and ladies of questionable appearance, stood in +serried ranks on both sides of the row of carriages. Humorous remarks +and coarse witticisms in the vulgarest Parisian dialect hailed down upon +the passing carriages and their occupants. + +She heard words which she had not heard for many years, and she blushed +at the thought that she was perhaps the only one in this whole long line +of carriages who understood these low expressions of the dregs of Paris. + +She began to look at the faces around her: it seemed to her as if she +knew them all. She knew what they thought, what was passing in each +of these tightly-packed heads; and little by little a host of memories +streamed in upon her. She fought against them as well as she could, but +she was not herself this evening. + +She had not, then, lost the key to the secret drawer; reluctantly she +drew it out, and the memories overpowered her. + +She remembered how often she herself, still almost a child, had devoured +with greedy eyes the fine ladies who drove in splendor to balls or +theatres; how often she had cried in bitter envy over the flowers she +laboriously pieced together to make others beautiful. Here she saw the +same greedy eyes, the same inextinguishable, savage envy. + +And the dark, earnest men who scanned the equipages with +half-contemptuous, half-threatening looks--she knew them all. + +Had not she herself, as a little girl, lain in a corner and listened, +wide-eyed, to their talk about the injustice of life, the tyranny of the +rich, and the rights of the laborer, which he had only to reach out his +hand to seize? + +She knew that they hated everything--the sleek horses, the dignified +coachmen, the shining carriages, and, most of all, the people who sat +within them--these insatiable vampires, these ladies, whose ornaments +for the night cost more gold than any one of them could earn by the work +of a whole lifetime. + +And as she looked along the line of carriages, as it dragged on +slowly through the crowd, another memory flashed into her mind--a +half-forgotten picture from her school-life in the convent. + +She suddenly came to think of the story of Pharaoh and his war-chariots +following the children of Israel through the Red Sea. She saw the waves, +which she had always imagined red as blood, piled up like a wall on both +sides of the Egyptians. + +Then the voice of Moses sounded. He stretched out his staff over the +waters, and the Red Sea waves hurtled together and swallowed up Pharaoh +and all his chariots. + +She knew that the wall which stood on each side of her was wilder and +more rapacious than the waves of the sea; she knew that it needed only +a voice, a Moses, to set all this human sea in motion, hurling it +irresistibly onward until it should sweep away all the glory of wealth +and greatness in its blood-red waves. + +Her heart throbbed, and she crouched trembling into the corner of the +carriage. But it was not with fear; it was so that those without should +not see her--for she was ashamed to meet their eyes. + +For the first time in her life, her good-fortune appeared to her in the +light of an injustice, a thing to blush for. + +Was she in her right place, in this soft-cushioned carriage, among these +tyrants and blood-suckers? Should she not rather be out there in the +billowing mass, among the children of hate? + +Half-forgotten thoughts and feelings thrust up their heads like beasts +of prey which have long lain bound. She felt strange and homeless in +her glittering life, and thought with a sort of demoniac longing of the +horrible places from which she had risen. + +She seized her rich lace shawl; there came over her a wild desire to +destroy, to tear something to pieces; but at this moment the carriage +turned into the gate-way of the hotel. + +The footman tore open the door, and with her gracious smile, her air of +quiet, aristocratic distinction, she alighted. + +A young attache rushed forward, and was happy when she took his arm, +still more enraptured when he thought he noticed an unusual gleam in her +eyes, and in the seventh heaven when he felt her arm tremble. + +Full of pride and hope, he led her with sedulous politeness up the +shining marble steps. + +***** + +"'Tell me, _belle dame_, what good fairy endowed you in your cradle with +the marvellous gift of transforming everything you touch into something +new and strange. The very flower in your hair has a charm, as though +it were wet with the fresh morning dew. And when you dance it seems as +though the floor swayed and undulated to the rhythm of your footsteps." + +The Count was himself quite astonished at this long and felicitous +compliment, for as a rule he did not find it easy to express himself +coherently. He expected, too, that his beautiful partner would show her +appreciation of his effort. + +But he was disappointed. She leaned over the balcony, where they were +enjoying the cool evening air after the dance, and gazed out over +the crowd and the still-advancing carriages. She seemed not to have +understood the Count's great achievement; at least he could only hear +her whisper the inexplicable word, "Pharaoh." + +He was on the point of remonstrating with her, when she turned round, +made a step towards the salon, stopped right in front of him, and looked +him in the face with great, wonderful eyes, such as the Count had never +seen before. + +"I scarcely think, Monsieur le Comte, that any good fairy--perhaps +not even a cradle--was present at my birth. But in what you say of +my flowers and my dancing your penetration has led you to a great +discovery. I will tell you the secret of the fresh morning dew which +lies on the flowers. It is the tears, Monsieur le Comte, which envy and +shame, disappointment and remorse, have wept over them. And if you seem +to feel the floor swaying as we dance, that is because it trembles under +the hatred of millions." + +She had spoken with her customary repose, and with a friendly bow she +disappeared into the salon. + +***** + +The Count remained rooted to the spot. He cast a glance over the crowd +outside. It was a right he had often seen, and he had made sundry snore +or less trivial witticisms about the "many-headed monster." But to-night +it struck him for the first time that this monster was, after all, the +most unpleasant neighbor for a palace one could possibly imagine. + +Strange and disturbing thoughts whirled in the brain of Monsieur le +Comte, where they found plenty of space to gyrate. He was entirely +thrown off his balance, and it was not till after the next polka that +his placidity returned. + + + + +THE PARSONAGE. + +It seemed as though the spring would never come. All through April the +north wind blew and the nights were frosty. In the middle of the day the +sun shone so warmly that a few big flies began to buzz around, and the +lark proclaimed, on its word of honor, that it was the height of summer. + +But the lark is the most untrustworthy creature under heaven. However +much it might freeze at night, the frost was forgotten at the first +sunbeam; and the lark soared, singing, high over the heath, until it +bethought itself that it was hungry. + +Then it sank slowly down in wide circles, singing, and beating time to +its song with the flickering of its wings. But a little way from +the earth it folded its wings and dropped like a stone down into the +heather. + +The lapwing tripped with short steps among the hillocks, and nodded its +head discreetly. It had no great faith in the lark, and repeated its +wary "Bi litt! Bi litt!" [Note: "Wait a bit! Wait a bit!" Pronounced +_Bee leet_] A couple of mallards lay snuggling in a marsh-hole, and the +elder one was of opinion that spring would not come until we had rain. + +Far on into May the meadows were still yellow; only here and there on +the sunny leas was there any appearance of green. But if you lay down +upon the earth you could see a multitude of little shoots--some thick, +others as thin as green darning-needles--which thrust their heads +cautiously up through the mould. But the north wind swept so coldly over +them that they turned yellow at the tips, and looked as if they would +like to creep back again. + +But that they could not do; so they stood still and waited, only +sprouting ever so little in the midday sun. + +The mallard was right; it was rain they wanted. And at last it +came--cold in the beginning, but gradually warmer; and when it was over +the sun came out in earnest. And now you would scarcely have known +it again; it shone warmly, right from the early morning till the late +evening, so that the nights were mild and moist. + +Then an immense activity set in; everything was behindhand, and had to +make up for lost time. The petals burst from the full buds with a little +crack, and all the big and little shoots made a sudden rush. They darted +out stalks, now to the one side, now to the other, as quickly as though +they lay kicking with green legs. The meadows were spangled with flowers +and weeds, and the heather slopes towards the sea began to light up. + +Only the yellow sand along the shore remained as it was; it has no +flowers to deck itself with, and lyme-grass is all its finery. Therefore +it piles itself up into great mounds, seen far and wide along the shore, +on which the long soft stems sway like a green banner. + +There the sand-pipers ran about so fast that their legs looked like +a piece of a tooth comb. The sea-gulls walked on the beach, where the +waves could sweep over their legs. They held themselves sedately, their +heads depressed and their crops protruded, like old ladies in muddy +weather. + +The sea-pie stood with his heels together, in his tight trousers, his +black swallow-tail, and his white waistcoat. + +"Til By'n! Til By'n!" he cried [Note: "To Town! To Town!"], and at each +cry he made a quick little bow, so that his coat tails whisked up behind +him. + +Up in the heather the lapwing flew about flapping her wings. The spring +had overtaken her so suddenly that she had not had time to find a proper +place for her nest. She had laid her eggs right in the middle of a +flat-topped mound. It was all wrong, she knew that quite well; but it +could not be helped now. + +The lark laughed at it all; but the sparrows were all in a hurry-scurry. +They were not nearly ready. Some had not even a nest; others had laid +an egg or two; but the majority had sat on the cow-house roof, week out, +week in, chattering about the almanac. + +Now they were in such a fidget they did not know where to begin. They +held a meeting in a great rose-bush, beside the Pastor's garden-fence, +all cackling and screaming together. The cock-sparrows ruffled +themselves up, so that all their feathers stood straight on end; and +then they perked their tails up slanting in the air, so that they looked +like little gray balls with a pin stuck in them. So they trundled down +the branches and ricochetted away over the meadow. + +All of a sudden, two dashed against each other. The rest rushed up, +and all the little balls wound themselves into one big one. It rolled +forward from under the bush, rose with a great hubbub a little way into +the air, then fell in one mass to the earth and went to pieces. And +then, without uttering a sound, each of the little balls suddenly went +his way, and a moment afterwards there was not a sparrow to be seen +about the whole Parsonage. + +Little Ansgarius had watched the battle of the sparrows with lively +interest. For, in his eyes, it was a great engagement, with charges and +cavalry skirmishes. He was reading _Universal History_ and the _History +of Norway_ with his father, and therefore everything that happened about +the house assumed a martial aspect in one way or another. When the cows +came home in the evening, they ware great columns of infantry advancing; +the hens were the volunteer forces, and the cock was Burgomaster Nansen. + +Ansgarius was a clever boy, who had all his dates at his fingers' ends; +but he had no idea of the meaning of time. Accordingly, he jumbled +together Napoleon and Eric Blood-Axe and Tiberius; and on the ships +which he saw sailing by in the offing he imagined Tordenskiold doing +battle, now with Vikings, and now with the Spanish Armada. + +In a secret den behind the summer-house he kept a red broom-stick, which +was called Bucephalus. It was his delight to prance about the garden +with his steed between his legs, and a flowerstick in his hand. + +A little way from the garden there was a hillock with a few small trees +upon it. Here he could lie in ambush and keep watch far and wide over +the heathery levels and the open sea. + +He never failed to descry one danger or another drawing near; either +suspicious-looking boats on the beach, or great squadrons of cavalry +advancing so cunningly that they looked like nothing but a single horse. +But Ansgarius saw through their stealthy tactics; he wheeled Bucephalus +about, tore down from the mound and through the garden, and dashed at a +gallop into the farm-yard. The hens shrieked as if their last hour +had come, and Burgomaster Nansen flew right against the Pastor's study +window. + +The Pastor hurried to the window, and just caught sight of Bucephalus's +tail as the hero dashed round the corner of the cow-house, where he +proposed to place himself in a posture of defence. + +"That boy is deplorably wild," thought the Pastor. He did not at all +like all these martial proclivities. Ansgarius was to be a man of peace, +like the Pastor himself; and it was a positive pain to him to see how +easily the boy learned and assimilated everything that had to do with +war and fighting. + +The Pastor would try now and then to depict the peaceful life of the +ancients or of foreign nations. But he made little impression. Ansgarius +pinned his faith to what he found in his book; and there it was nothing +but war after war. The people were all soldiers, the heroes waded in +blood; and it was fruitless labor for the Pastor to try to awaken the +boy to any sympathy with those whose blood they waded in. + +It would occur to the Pastor now and again that it might, perhaps, +have been better to have filled the young head from the first with more +peaceful ideas and images than the wars of rapacious monarchs or the +murders and massacres of our forefathers. But then he remembered that he +himself had gone through the same course in his boyhood, so that it must +be all right. Ansgarius would be a man of peace none the less--and if +not! "Well, everything is in the hand of Providence," said the Pastor +confidingly, and set to work again at his sermon. + +"You're quite forgetting your lunch to-day, father," said a blond head +in the door-way. + +"Why, so I am, Rebecca; I'm a whole hour too late," answered the father, +and went at once into the dining-room. + +The father and daughter sat down at the luncheon-table. Ansgarius was +always his own master on Saturdays, when the Pastor was taken up with +his sermon. + +You would not easily have found two people who suited each other better, +or who lived on terms of more intimate friendship, than the Pastor and +his eighteen-year-old daughter. She had been motherless from childhood; +but there was so much that was womanly in her gentle, even-tempered +father, that the young girl, who remembered her mother only as a pale +face that smiled on her, felt the loss rather as a peaceful sorrow than +as a bitter pain. + +And for him she came to fill up more and more, as she ripened, the void +that had been left in his soul; and all the tenderness, which at his +wife's death had been so clouded in sorrow and longing, now gathered +around the young woman who grew up under his eyes; so that his sorrow +was assuaged and peace descended upon his mind. + +Therefore he was able to be almost like a mother to her. He taught her +to look upon the world with his own pure, untroubled eyes. It became +the better part of his aim in life to hedge her around and protect her +fragile and delicate nature from all the soilures and perturbations +which make the world so perplexing, so difficult, and so dangerous an +abiding-place. + +When they stood together on the hill beside the Parsonage, gazing forth +over the surging sea, he would say: "Look, Rebecca! yonder is an image +of life--of that life in which the children of this world are tossed to +and fro; in which impure passions rock the frail skiff about, to litter +the shore at last with its shattered fragments. He only can defy the +storm who builds strong bulwarks around a pure heart--at his feet the +waves break powerlessly." + +Rebecca clung to her father; she felt so safe by his side. There was +such a radiance over all he said, that when she thought of the future +she seemed to see the path before her bathed in light. For all her +questions he had an answer; nothing was too lofty for him, nothing too +lowly. They exchanged ideas without the least constraint, almost like +brother and sister. + +And yet one point remained dark between them. On all other matters she +would question her father directly; here she had to go indirectly to +work, to get round something which she could never get over. + +She knew her father's great sorrow; she knew what happiness he had +enjoyed and lost. She followed with the warmest sympathy the varying +fortunes of the lovers in the books she read aloud during the winter +evenings; her heart understood that love, which brings the highest +joy, may also cause the deepest sorrow. But apart from the sorrows of +ill-starred love, she caught glimpses of something else--a terrible +something which she did not understand. Dark forms would now and then +appear to her, gliding through the paradise of love, disgraced and +abject. The sacred name of love was linked with the direst shame and the +deepest misery. Among people whom she knew, things happened from time +to time which she dared not think about; and when, in stern but guarded +words, her father chanced to speak of moral corruption, she would +shrink, for hours afterwards, from meeting his eye. + +He remarked this and was glad. In such sensitive purity had she grown +up, so completely had he succeeded in holding aloof from her whatever +could disturb her childlike innocence, that her soul was like a shining +pearl to which no mire could cling. + +He prayed that he might ever keep her thus! + +So long as he himself was there to keep watch, no harm should approach +her. And if he was called away, he had at least provided her with armor +of proof for life, which would stand her in good stead on the day of +battle. And a day of battle no doubt would come. He gazed at her with +a look which she did not understand, and said with his strong faith, +"Well, well, everything is in the hand of Providence!" + +"Haven't you time to go for a walk with me to-day, father?" asked +Rebecca, when they had finished dinner. + +"Why, yes; do you know, I believe it would do me good. The weather is +delightful, and I've been so industrious that my sermon is as good as +finished." + +They stepped out upon the threshold before the main entrance, which +faced the other buildings of the farm. There was this peculiarity about +the Parsonage, that the high-road, leading to the town, passed right +through the farm-yard. The Pastor did not at all like this, for before +everything he loved peace and quietness; and although the district was +sufficiently out-of-the-way, there was always a certain amount of life +on the road which led to the town. + +But for Ansgarius the little traffic that came their way was an +inexhaustible source of excitement. While the father and daughter stood +on the threshold discussing whether they should follow the road or go +through the heather down to the beach, the young warrior suddenly came +rushing up the hill and into the yard. He was flushed and out of breath, +and Bucephalus was going at a hand gallop. Right before the door he +reined in his horse with a sudden jerk, so that he made a deep gash in +the sand; and swinging his sword, he shouted, "They're coming, they're +coming!" + +"Who are coming?" asked Rebecca. + +"Snorting black chargers and three war chariots full of men-at-arms." + +"Rubbish, my boy!" said his father, sternly. + +"Three phaetons are coming with townspeople in them," said Ansgarius, +and dismounted with an abashed air. + +"Let us go in, Rebecca," said the Pastor, turning. + +But at the same moment the foremost horses came at a quick pace over the +brow of the hill. They were not exactly snorting chargers; yet it was a +pretty sight as carriage after carriage came into view in the sunshine, +full of merry faces and lively colors. Rebecca could not help stopping. + +On the back seat of the foremost carriage sat an elderly gentleman and +a buxom lady. On the front seat she saw a young lady; and just as they +entered the yard, a gentleman who sat at her side stood up, and, with a +word of apology to the lady on the back seat, turned and looked forward +past the driver. Rebecca gazed at him without knowing what she was +doing. + +"How lovely it is here!" cried the young man. + +For the Parsonage lay on the outermost slope towards the sea, so that +the vast blue horizon suddenly burst upon you as you entered the yard. + +The gentleman on the back seat leaned a little forward. "Yes, it's +very pretty here," he said; "I'm glad that you appreciate our peculiar +scenery, Mr. Lintzow." + +At the same moment the young man's glance met Rebecca's, and she +instantly lowered her eyes. But he stopped the driver, and cried, "Let +us remain here!" + +"Hush!" said the older lady, with a low laugh. "This won't do, Mr. +Lintzow; this is the Parsonage." + +"It doesn't matter," cried the young man, merrily, as he jumped out of +the carriage. "I say," he shouted backward towards the other carriages, +"sha'n't we rest here?" + +"Yes, yes," came the answer in chorus; and the merry party began at once +to alight. + +But now the gentleman on the back seat rose, and said, seriously: "No, +no, my friends! this really won't do! It's out of the question for us +to descend upon the clergyman, whom we don't know at all. It's only ten +minutes' drive to the district judge's, and there they are in the habit +of receiving strangers." + +He was on the point of giving orders to drive on, when the Pastor +appeared in the door-way, with a friendly bow. He knew Consul Hartvig by +sight--the leading man of the town. + +"If your party will make the best of things here, it will be a great +pleasure to me; and I think I may say that, so far as the view goes--" + +"Oh no, my dear Pastor, you're altogether too kind; it's out of the +question for us to accept your kind invitation, and I must really beg +you to excuse these young madcaps," said Mrs. Hartvig, half in despair +when she saw her youngest son, who had been seated in the last carriage, +already deep in a confidential chat with Ansgarius. + +"But I assure you, Mrs. Hartvig," answered the Pastor, smiling, "that so +pleasant an interruption of our solitude would be most welcome both to +my daughter and myself." + +Mr. Lintzow opened the carriage-door with a formal bow, Consul Hartvig +looked at his wife and she at him, the Pastor advanced and renewed his +invitation, and the end was that, with half-laughing reluctance, +they alighted and suffered the Pastor to usher them into the spacious +garden-room. + +Then came renewed excuses and introductions. The party consisted of +Consul Hartvig's children and some young friends of theirs, the picnic +having been arranged in honor of Max Lintzow, a friend of the eldest son +of the house, who was spending some days as the Consul's guest. + +"My daughter Rebecca," said the Pastor, presenting her, "who will do the +best our humble house-keeping permits." + +"No, no, I protest, my dear Pastor," the lively Mrs. Hartvig interrupted +him eagerly, "this is going too far! Even if this incorrigible Mr. +Lintzow and my crazy sons have succeeded in storming your house +and home, I won't resign the last remnants of my authority. The +entertainment shall most certainly be my affair. Off you go, young men," +she said, turning to her sons, "and unpack the carriages. And you, +my dear child, must by all means go and amuse yourself with the young +people; just leave the catering to me; I know all about that." + +And the kind-hearted woman looked with her honest gray eyes at her +host's pretty daughter, and patted her on the cheek. + +How nice that felt! There was a peculiar coziness in the touch of the +comfortable old lady's soft hand. The tears almost rose to Rebecca's +eyes; she stood as if she expected that the strange lady would put her +arms round her neck and whisper to her something she had long waited to +hear. + +But the conversation glided on. The young people, with ever-increasing +glee, brought all sorts of strange parcels out of the carriages. Mrs. +Hartvig threw her cloak upon a chair and set about arranging things as +best she could. But the young people, always with Mr. Lintzow at their +head, seemed determined to make as much confusion as possible. Even the +Pastor was infected by their merriment, and to Rebecca's unspeakable +astonishment she saw her own father, in complicity with Mr. Lintzow, +biding a big paper parcel under Mrs. Hartvig's cloak. + +At last the racket became too much for the old lady. "My dear Miss +Rebecca," she exclaimed, "have you not any show-place to exhibit in +the neighborhood--the farther off the better--so that I might get these +crazy beings off my hands for a little while?" + +"There's a lovely view from the King's Knoll; and then there's the beach +and the sea." + +"Yes, let's go down to the sea!" cried Max Lintzow. + +"That's just what I want," said the old lady. "If you can relieve me of +_him_ I shall be all right, for he is the worst of them all." + +"If Miss Rebecca will lead the way, I will follow wherever she pleases," +said the young man, with a bow. + +Rebecca blushed. Nothing of that sort had ever been said to her before. +The handsome young man made her a low bow, and his words had such a ring +of sincerity. But there was no time to dwell upon this impression; the +whole merry troop were soon out of the house, through the garden, and, +with Rebecca and Lintzow at their head, making their way up to the +little height which was called the King's Knoll. + +Many years ago a number of antiquities had been dug up on the top of the +Knoll, and one of the Pastor's predecessors in the parish had planted +some hardy trees upon the slopes. With the exception of a rowan-tree, +and a walnut-avenue in the Parsonage garden, these were the only trees +to be found for miles round on the windy slopes facing the open sea. +In spite of storms and sand-drifts, they had, in the course of time, +reached something like the height of a man, and, turning their bare and +gnarled stems to the north wind, like a bent back, they stretched +forth their long, yearning arms towards the south. Rebecca's mother had +planted some violets among them. + +"Oh, how fortunate!" cried the eldest Miss Hartvig; "here are violets! +Oh, Mr. Lintzow, do pick me a bouquet of them for this evening!" + +The young man, who had been exerting himself to hit upon the right tone +in which to converse with Rebecca, fancied that the girl started at Miss +Frederica's words. + +"You are very fond of the violets?" he said, softly. + +She looked up at him in surprise; how could he possibly know that? + +"Don't you think, Miss Hartvig, that it would be better to pick the +flowers just as we are starting, so that they may keep fresher?" + +"As you please," she answered, shortly. + +"Let's hope she'll forget all about it by that time," said Max Lintzow +to himself, under his breath. + +But Rebecca heard, and wondered what pleasure he could find in +protecting her violets, instead of picking them for that handsome girl. + +After they had spent some time in admiring the limitless prospect, the +party left the Knoll and took a foot-path downward towards the beach. + +On the smooth, firm sand, at the very verge of the sea, the young people +strolled along, conversing gayly. Rebecca was at first quite confused. +It seemed as though these merry towns-people spoke a language she did +not understand. Sometimes she thought they laughed at nothing; and, on +the other hand, she herself often could not help laughing at their cries +of astonishment and their questions about everything they saw. + +But gradually she began to feel at her ease among these good-natured, +kindly people; the youngest Miss Hartvig even put her arm around her +waist as they walked. And then Rebecca, too, thawed; she joined in their +laughter, and said what she had to say as easily and freely as any of +the others. It never occurred to her to notice that the young men, and +especially Mr. Lintzow, were chiefly taken up with her; and the little +pointed speeches which this circumstance called forth from time to time +were as meaningless for her as much of the rest of the conversation. + +They amused themselves for some time with running down the shelving +beach every time the wave receded, and then rushing up again when the +next wave came. And great was the glee when one of the young men was +overtaken, or when a larger wave than usual sent its fringe of foam +right over the slope, and forced the merry party to beat a precipitate +retreat. + +"Look! Mamma's afraid that we shall be too late for the ball," cried +Miss Hartvig, suddenly; and they now discovered that the Consul and +Mrs. Hartvig and the Pastor were standing like three windmills on the +Parsonage hill, waving with pocket handkerchiefs and napkins. + +They turned their faces homeward. Rebecca took them by a short cut over +the morass, not reflecting that the ladies from the town could not jump +from tuft to tuft as she could. Miss Frederica, in her tight skirt, +jumped short, and stumbled into a muddy hole. She shrieked and cried +piteously for help, with her eyes fixed upon Lintzow. + +"Look alive, Henrik!" cried Max to Hartvig junior, who was nearer at +hand; "why don't you help your sister?" + +Miss Frederica extricated herself without help, and the party proceeded. + +The table was laid in the garden, along the wall of the house; and +although the spring was so young, it was warm enough in the sunshine. +When they had all found seats, Mrs. Hartvig cast a searching glance over +the table. + +"Why--why--surely there's something wanting! I'm convinced I saw the +house-keeper wrapping up a black grouse this morning. Frederica, my +dear, don't you remember it?" + +"Excuse me, mother, you know that housekeeping is not at all in my +department." + +Rebecca looked at her father, and so did Lintzow; the worthy Pastor +pulled a face upon which even Ansgarius could read a confession of +crime. + +"I can't possibly believe," began Mrs. Hartvig, "that you, Pastor, have +been conspiring with--" And then he could not help laughing and making +a clean breast of it, amid great merriment, while the boys in triumph +produced the parcel with the game. Every one was in the best possible +humor. Consul Hartvig was delighted to find that their clerical host +could join in a joke, and the Pastor himself was in higher spirits than +he had been in for many a year. + +In the course of the conversation some one happened to remark that +although the arrangements might be countrified enough, the viands were +too town-like; "No country meal is complete without thick milk." [Note: +Milk allowed to stand until it has thickened to the consistency of +curds, and then eaten, commonly with sugar.] + +Rebecca at once rose and demanded leave to bring a basin of milk; and, +paying no attention to Mrs. Hartvig's protests, she left the table. + +"Let me help you, Miss Rebecca," cried Max, and ran after her. + +"That is a lively young man," said the Pastor. + +"Yes, isn't he?" answered the Consul, "and a deuced good business man +into the bargain. He has spent several years abroad, and now his father +has taken him into partnership." + +"He's perhaps a little unstable," said Mrs. Hartvig, doubtfully. + +"Yes, he is indeed," sighed Miss Frederica. + +The young man followed Rebecca through the suite of rooms that led to +the dairy. At bottom, she did not like this, although the dairy was +her pride; but he joked and laughed so merrily that she could not help +joining in the laughter. + +She chose a basin of milk upon the upper shelf, and stretched out her +arms to reach it. + +"No, no, Miss Rebecca, it's too high for you!" cried Max; "let me hand +it down to you." And as he said so he laid his hand upon hers. + +Rebecca hastily drew back her hand. She knew that her face had flushed, +and she almost felt as if she must burst into tears. + +Then he said, softly and earnestly, lowering his eyes, "Pray, pardon +me, Miss Rebecca. I feel that my behavior must seem far too light and +frivolous to such a woman as you; but I should be sorry that you should +think of me as nothing but the empty coxcomb I appear to be. Merriment, +to many people, is merely a cloak for their sufferings, and there are +some who laugh only that they may not weep." + +At the last words he looked up. There was something so mournful, and +at the same time so reverential, in his glance, that Rebecca all of +a sudden felt as if she had been unkind to him. She was accustomed to +reach things down from the upper shelf, but when she again stretched out +her hands for the basin of milk, she let her arms drop, and said, "No, +perhaps it _is_ too high for me, after all." + +A faint smile passed over his face as he took the basin and carried it +carefully out; she accompanied him and opened the doors for him. Every +time he passed her she looked closely at him. His collar, his necktie, +his coat--everything was different from her father's, and he carried +with him a peculiar perfume which she did not know. + +When they came to the garden door, he stopped for an instant, and +looked up with a melancholy smile: "I must take a moment to recover my +expression of gayety, so that no one out there may notice anything." + +Then he passed out upon the steps with a joking speech to the company +at the table, and she heard their laughing answers; but she herself +remained behind in the garden-room. + +Poor young man! how sorry she was for him; and how strange that she +of all people should be the only one in whom he confided. What secret +sorrow could it be that depressed him? Perhaps he, too, had lost his +mother. Or could it be something still mote terrible? How glad she would +be if only she could help him. + +When Rebecca presently came out he was once more the blithest of them +all. Only once in a while, when he looked at her, his eyes seemed again +to assume that melancholy, half-beseeching expression; and it cut her to +the heart when he laughed at the same moment. + +At last came the time for departure; there was hearty leave-taking on +both sides. But as the last of the packing was going on, and in +the general confusion, while every one was finding his place in the +carriages, or seeking a new place for the homeward journey, Rebecca +slipped into the house, through the rooms, out into the garden, and away +to the King's Knoll. Here she seated herself in the shadow of the trees, +where the violets grew, and tried to collect her thoughts.--"What about +the violets, Mr. Lintzow?" cried Miss Frederica, who had already taken +her seat in the carriage. + +The young man had for some time been eagerly searching for the daughter +of the house. He answered absently, "I'm afraid it's too late." + +But a thought seemed suddenly to strike him. "Oh, Mrs. Hartvig," he +cried, "will you excuse me for a couple of minutes while I fetch a +bouquet for Miss Frederica?"--Rebecca heard rapid steps approaching; +she thought it could be no one but he. + +"Ah, are you here, Miss Rebecca? I have come to gather some violets." + +She turned half away from him and began to pluck the flowers. + +"Are these flowers for me?" he asked, hesitatingly. + +"Are they not for Miss Frederica?" + +"Oh no, let them be for me!" he besought, kneeling at her side. + +Again his voice had such a plaintive ring in it--almost like that of a +begging child. + +She handed him the violets without looking up. Then he clasped her round +the waist and held her close to him. She did not resist, but closed her +eyes and breathed heavily. Then she felt that he kissed her--over and +over again--on the eyes, on the mouth, meanwhile calling her by her +name, with incoherent words, and then kissing her again. They called to +him from the garden; he let her go and ran down the mound. The horses +stamped, the young man sprang quickly into the carriage, and it rolled +away. But as he was closing the carriage door he was so maladroit as to +drop the bouquet; only a single violet remained in his hand. + +"I suppose it's no use offering you this one, Miss Frederica?" he said. + +"No, thanks; you may keep that as a memento of your remarkable +dexterity," answered Miss Hartvig; he was in her black books. + +"Yes--you are right--I shall do so," answered Max Lintzow, with perfect +composure.--Next day, after the ball, when he put on his morning-coat, +he found a withered violet in the button-hole. He nipped off the flower +with his fingers, and drew out the stalk from beneath. + +"By-the-bye," he said, smiling to himself in the mirror, "I had almost +forgotten _her_!" + +In the afternoon he went away, and then he _quite_ forgot her. + + +The summer came with warm days and long, luminous nights. The smoke of +the passing steamships lay in long black streaks over the peaceful sea. +The sailing-ships drifted by with flapping sails and took nearly a whole +day to pass out of sight. + +It was some time before the Pastor noticed any change in his daughter. +But little by little he became aware that Rebecca was not flourishing +that summer. She had grown pale, and kept much to her own room. She +scarcely ever came into the study, and at last he fancied that she +avoided him. + +Then he spoke seriously to her, and begged her to tell him if she was +ill, or if mental troubles of any sort had affected her spirits. + +But she only wept, and answered scarcely a word. + +After this conversation, however, things went rather better. She did not +keep so much by herself, and was oftener with her father. But the old +ring was gone from her voice, and her eyes were not so frank as of old. + +The Doctor came, and began to cross-question her. She blushed as red as +fire, and at last burst into such a paroxysm of weeping, that the old +gentleman left her room and went down to the Pastor in his study. + +"Well, Doctor, what do you think of Rebecca?" + +"Tell me now, Pastor," began the Doctor, diplomatically, "has your +daughter gone through any violent mental crisis--hm--any--" + +"Temptation, do you mean?" + +"No, not exactly. Has she not had any sort of heartache? Or, to put it +plainly, any love-sorrow?" + +The Pastor was very near feeling a little hurt. How could the Doctor +suppose that his own Rebecca, whose heart was as an open book to him, +could or would conceal from her father any sorrow of such a nature! And, +besides--! Rebecca was really not one of the girls whose heads were full +of romantic dreams of love. And as she was never away from his side, +how could she--? "No, no, my dear Doctor! That diagnosis does you little +credit!" the Pastor concluded, with a tranquil smile. + +"Well, well, there's no harm done!" said the old Doctor, and wrote a +prescription which was at least innocuous. He knew of no simples to cure +love-sorrows; but in his heart of hearts he held to his diagnosis. + +The visit of the Doctor had frightened Rebecca. She now kept still +stricter watch upon herself, and redoubled her exertions to seem as +before. For no one must suspect what had happened: that a young man, an +utter stranger, had held her in his arms and kissed her--over and over +again! + +As often as she realized this the blood rushed to her cheeks. She washed +herself ten times in the day, yet it seemed she could never be clean. + +For what was it that had happened? Was it of the last extremity of +shame? Was she now any better than the many wretched girls whose errors +she had shuddered to think of, and had never been able to understand? +Ah, if there were only any one she could question! If she could only +unburden her mind of all the doubt and uncertainty that tortured her; +learn clearly what she had done; find out if she had still the right to +look her father in the face--or if she were the most miserable of all +sinners. + +Her father often asked her if she could not confide to him what was +weighing on her mind; for he felt that she was keeping something from +him. But when she looked into his clear eyes, into his pure open face, +it seemed impossible, literally impossible, to approach that terrible +impure point and she only wept. She thought sometimes of that good Mrs. +Hartvig's soft hand; but she was a stranger, and far away. So she must +e'en fight out her fight in utter solitude, and so quietly that no one +should be aware of it. + +And he, who was pursuing his path through life with so bright a +countenance and so heavy a heart! Should she ever see him again? And +if she were ever to meet him, where should she hide herself? He was an +inseparable part of all her doubt and pain; but she felt no bitterness, +no resentment towards him. All that she suffered bound her closer to +him, and he was never out of her thoughts. + +In the daily duties of the household Rebecca was as punctual and +careful as ever. But in everything she did he was present to her memory. +Innunmerable spots in the house and garden recalled him to her thoughts; +she met him in the door-ways; she remembered where he stood when first +he spoke to her. She had never been at the King's Knoll since that day; +it was there that he had clasped her round the waist, and--kissed her. + +The Pastor was full of solicitude about his daughter; but whenever the +Doctor's hint occurred to him he shook his head, half angrily. How could +he dream that a practised hand, with a well-worn trick of the fence, +could pierce the armor of proof with which he had provided her? + + +If the spring had been late, the autumn was early. + +One fine warm summer evening it suddenly began to rain. The next day it +was still raining; and it poured incessantly, growing ever colder and +colder, for eleven days and nights on end. At last it cleared up; but +the next night there were four degrees of frost. [Note: Reaumur.] + +On the bushes and trees the leaves hung glued together after the long +rain; and when the frost had dried them after its fashion, they fell to +the ground in multitudes at every little puff of wind. + +The Pastor's tenant was one of the few that had got their corn in; and +now it had to be threshed while there was water for the machine. The +little brook in the valley rushed foaming along, as brown as coffee, +and all the men on the farm were taken up with tending the machine and +carting corn and straw up and down the Parsonage hill. + +The farm-yard was bestrewn with straw, and when the wind swirled in +between the houses it seized the oat-straws by the head, raised them +on end, and set them dancing along like yellow spectres. It was the +juvenile autumn wind trying its strength; not until well on in the +winter, when it has full-grown lungs, does it take to playing with tiles +and chimney-pots. + +A sparrow sat crouched together upon the dog-kennel; it drew its head +down among its feathers, blinked its eyes, and betrayed no interest +in anything. But in reality it noted carefully where the corn was +deposited. In the great sparrow-battle of the spring it had been in the +very centre of the ball, and had pecked and screamed with the best of +them. But it had sobered down since then; it thought of its wife and +children, and reflected how good it was to have something in reserve +against the winter.--Ansgarius looked forward to the winter--to +perilous expeditions through the snow-drifts and pitch-dark evenings +with thundering breakers. He already turned to account the ice which lay +on the puddles after the frosty nights, by making all his tin soldiers, +with two brass cannons, march out upon it. Stationed upon an overturned +bucket, he watched the ice giving way, little by little, until the whole +army was immersed, and only the wheels of the cannons remained visible. +Then he shouted, "Hurrah!" and swung his cap. + +"What are you shouting about?" asked the Pastor, who happened to pass +through the farm-yard. + +"I'm playing at Austerlitz!" answered Ansgarius, beaming. + +The father passed on, sighing mournfully; he could not understand his +children.--Down in the garden sat Rebecca on a bench in the sun. She +looked out over the heather, which was in purple flower, while the +meadows were putting on their autumn pallor. + +The lapwings were gathering in silence, and holding flying drills in +preparation for their journey; wad all the strand birds were assembling, +in order to take flight together. Even the lark had lost its courage +and was seeking convoy voiceless and unknown among the other gray autumn +birds. But the sea-gull stalked peaceably about, protruding its crop; it +was not under notice to quit. + +The air was so still and languid and hazy. All sounds and colors were +toning down against the winter, and that vas very pleasant to her. + +She was weary, and the long dead winter would suit her well. She knew +that her winter would be longer than all the others, and she began to +shrink from the spring. + +Then everything would awaken that the winter had laid to sleep. The +birds would come back and sing the old songs with new voices; and upon +the King's Knoll her mother's violets would peer forth afresh in azure +clusters; it was there that he had clasped her round the waist and +kissed her--over and over again. + + + + +THE PEAT MOOR. + +High over the heathery wastes flew a wise old raven. + +He was bound many miles westward, right out to the sea-coast, to unearth +a sow's ear which he had buried in the good times. + +It was now late autumn, and food was scarce. + +When you see one raven, says Father Brehm, you need only look round to +discover a second. + +But you might have looked long enough where this wise old raven came +flying; he was, and remained, alone. And without troubling about +anything or uttering a sound, he sped on his strong coal-black wings +through the dense rain-mist, steering due west. + +But as he flew, evenly and meditatively, his sharp eyes searched the +landscape beneath, and the old bird was full of chagrin. + +Year by year the little green and yellow patches down there increased +in number and size; rood after rood was cut out of the heathery waste, +little houses sprang up with red-tiled roofs and low chimneys breathing +oily peat-reek. Men and their meddling everywhere! + +He remembered how, in the days of his youth--several winters ago, of +course--this was the very place for a wide-awake raven with a family: +long, interminable stretches of heather, swarms of leverets and little +birds, eider-ducks on the shore with delicious big eggs, and tidbits of +all sorts abundant as heart could desire. + +Now he saw house upon house, patches of yellow corn-land and green +meadows; and food was so scarce that a gentlemanly old raven had to fly +miles and miles for a paltry sow's ear. + +Oh, those men! those men! The old bird knew them. + +He had grown up among men, and, what was more, among the aristocracy. He +had passed his childhood and youth at the great house close to the town. + +But now, whenever he passed over the house, he soared high into the air, +so as not to be recognized. For when he saw a female figure down in the +garden, he thought it was the young lady of the house, wearing powdered +hair and a white head-dress; whereas it was in reality her daughter, +with snow-white curls and a widow's cap. + +Had he enjoyed his life among the aristocracy? Oh, that's as you please +to look at it. There was plenty to eat and plenty to learn; but, after +all, it was captivity. During the first years his left wing was clipped, +and afterwards, as his old master used to say, he was upon _parole +d'honneur_. + +This parole he had broken one spring when a glossy-black young she-raven +happened to fly over the garden. + +Some time afterwards--a few winters had slipped away--he came back to +the house. But some strange boys threw stones at him; the old master and +the young lady were not at home. + +"No doubt they are in town," thought the old raven; and he came again +some time later. But he met with just the same reception. + +Then the gentlemenly old bird--for in the meantime he had grown +old--felt hurt, and now he flew high over the house. He would have +nothing more to do with men, and the old master and the young lady might +look for him as long as they pleased. That they did so he never doubted. + +And he forgot all that he had learned, both the difficult French +words which the young lady taught him in the drawing-room, and the +incomparably easier expletives which he had picked up on his own account +in the servants' hall. + +Only two human sounds clung to his memory, the last relics of his +vanished learning. When he was in a thoroughly good humor, he would +often say, "Bonjour, madame!" But when he was angry, he shrieked, "Go to +the devil!" + +Through the dense rain-mist he sped swiftly and unswervingly; already he +saw the white wreath of surf along the coast. Then he descried a great +black waste stretching out beneath him. It was a peat moor. + +It was encircled with farms on the heights around; but on the low +plain--it must have been over a mile [Note: One Norwegian mile is equal +to seven English miles.] long--there was no trace of human meddling; +only a few stacks of peat on the outskirts, with black hummocks and +gleaming water-holes between them. + +"Bonjour, madame!" cried the old raven, and began to wheel in great +circles over the moor. It looked so inviting that he settled downward, +slowly and warily, and alighted upon a tree-root in the midst of it. + +Here it was just as in the old days-a silent wilderness. On some +scattered patches of drier soil there grew a little short heather and a +few clumps of rushes. They were withered; but on their stiff stems there +still hung one or two tufts--black, and sodden by the autumn rain. For +the most part the soil was fine, black, and crumbling--wet and full of +water-holes. Gray and twisted tree-roots stuck up above the surface, +interlaced like a gnarled net-work. + +The old raven well understood all that he saw. There had been trees here +in the old times, before even his day. + +The wood had disappeared; branches, leaves, everything was gone. Only +the tangled roots remained, deep down in the soft mass of black fibres +and water. + +But further than this, change could not possibly go; so it must endure, +and here, at any rate, men would have to stint their meddling. + +The old bird held himself erect. The farms lay so far away that he +felt securely at home, here in the middle of the bottomless morass. One +relic, at least, of antiquity must remain undisturbed. He smoothed his +glossy black feathers, and said several times, "Bonjour, madame!" + +But down from the nearest farm came a couple of men with a horse and +cart; two small boys ran behind. They took a crooked course among the +hummocks, but made as though to cross the morass. + +"They must soon stop," thought the raven. + +But they drew nearer and nearer; the old bird turned his head uneasily +from side to side; it was strange that they should venture so far out. + +At last they stopped, and the men set to work with spades and axes. The +raven could see that they were struggling with a huge root which they +wanted to loosen. + +"They will soon tire of that," thought the raven. + +But they did not tire, they hacked with their axes--the sharpest the +raven had ever seen--they dug and hauled, and at last they actually got +the huge stem turned over on its side, so that the whole tough net-work +of roots stood straight up in the air. + +The small boys wearied of digging canals between the water-holes. "Look +at that great big crow over there," said one of them. + +They armed themselves with a stone in each hand, and came sneaking +forward behind the hummocks. + +The raven saw them quite well. But that was not the worst thing it saw. + +Not even out on the morass was antiquity to be left in peace. He had +now seen that even the gray tree-roots, older than the oldest raven, and +firmly inwoven into the deep, bottomless morass--that even they had to +yield before the sharp axes. + +And when the boys had got so near that they were on the point of opening +fire, he raised his heavy wings and soared aloft. + +But as he rose into the air and looked down upon the toiling men and the +stupid boys, who stood gaping at him with a stone in each hand, a great +wrath seized the old bird. + +He swooped down upon the boys like an eagle, and while his great wings +flounced about their ears, he shrieked in a terrible voice, "Go to the +devil!" + +The boys gave a yell and threw themselves down upon the ground. When +they presently ventured to look up again, all was still and deserted as +before. Far away, a solitary blackbird winged to the westward. + +But till they grew to be men--aye, even to their dying day--they were +firmly convinced that the Evil One himself had appeared to them out on +the black morass, in the form of a monstrous black bird with eyes of +fire. + +But it was only an old raven, flying westward to unearth a sow's ear +which it had buried. + + + + +"HOPE'S CLAD IN APRIL GREEN." + +"You're kicking up the dust!" cried Cousin Hans. + +Ola did not hear. + +"He's quite as deaf as Aunt Maren," thought Hans. "You're kicking up the +dust!" he shouted, louder. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon!" said Cousin Ola, and lifted his feet high in +air at every step. Not for all the world would he do anything to annoy +his brother; he had too much on his conscience already. + +Was he not at this very moment thinking of her whom he knew that his +brother loved? And was it not sinful of him to be unable to conquer a +passion which, besides being a wrong towards his own brother, was so +utterly hopeless? + +Cousin Ola took himself sternly to task, and while he kept to the other +side of the way, so as not to make a dust, he tried with all his might +to think of the most indifferent things. But however far away his +thoughts might start, they always returned by the strangest short-cuts +to the forbidden point, and began once more to flutter around it, like +moths around a candle. + +The brothers, who were paying a holiday visit to their uncle, the +Pastor, were now on their way to the Sheriff's house, where there was +to be a dancing-party for young people. There were many students +paying visits in the neighborhood, so that these parties passed like an +epidemic from house to house. + +Cousin Hans was thus in his very element; he sang, he danced, he was +entertaining from morning to night; and if his tone had been a little +sharp when he declared that Ola was kicking up the dust, it was really +because of his annoyance at being unable, by any means, to screw his +brother up to the same pitch of hilarity. + +We already know what was oppressing Ola. But even under ordinary +circumstances he was more quiet and retiring than his brother. He danced +"like a pair of nut-crackers," said Hans; he could not sing at all +(Cousin Hans even declared that his speaking voice was monotonous and +unsympathetic); and, in addition to all this, he was rather absent and +ill-at-ease in the society of ladies. + +As they approached the Sheriff's house, they heard a carriage behind +them. + +"That's the Doctor's people," said Hans, placing himself in position for +bowing; for the beloved one was the daughter of the district physician. + +"Oh, how lovely she is--in light pink!" said Cousin Hans. + +Cousin Ola saw at once that the beloved one was in light green; but he +dared not say a word lest he should betray himself by his voice, for his +heart was in his throat. + +The carriage passed at full speed; the young men bowed, and the old +Doctor cried out, "Come along!" + +"Why, I declare, that was she in light green!" said Cousin Hans; he had +barely had time to transfer his burning glance from the light-pink frock +to the light-green. "But wasn't she lovely, Ola?" + +"Oh yes," answered Ola with an effort. + +"What a cross-grained being you are!" exclaimed Hans, indignantly. "But +even if you're devoid of all sense for female beauty, I think you might +at least show more interest in--in your brother's future wife." + +"If you only knew how she interests me," thought the nefarious Ola, +hanging his head. + +But meanwhile this delightful meeting had thrown Hans into an ecstatic +mood of amorous bliss; he swung his stick, snapped his fingers, and sang +at the pitch of his voice. + +As he thought of the fair one in the light-green frock--fresh as spring, +airy as a butterfly, he called it--the refrain of an old ditty rose to +his lips, and he sang it with great enjoyment: + + "Hope's clad in April green-- + Trommelommelom, trommelommelom, + Tender it's vernal sheen-- + Trommelommelom, trommelommelom." + +This verse seemed to him eminently suited to the situation, and he +repeated it over and over again--now in the waltz-time of the old +melody, now as a march, and again as a serenade--now in loud, jubilant +tones, and then half whispering, as if he were confiding his love and +his hope to the moon and the silent groves. + +Cousin Ola was almost sick; for, great as was his respect for his +brother's singing, he became at last so dog-tired of this April-green +hope and this eternal "Trommelommelom" that it was a great relief to him +when they at last arrived at the Sheriff's. + +The afternoon passed as it always does on such occasions; they all +enjoyed themselves mightily. For most of them were in love, and those +who were not found almost a greater pleasure in keeping an eye upon +those who were. + +Some one proposed a game of "La Grace" in the garden. Cousin Hans +rushed nimbly about and played a thousand pranks, threw the game into +confusion, and paid his partner all sorts of attentions. + +Cousin Ola stood at his post and gave his whole mind to his task; he +caught the ring and sent it off again with never failing precision. +Ola would have enjoyed himself, too, if only his conscience had not so +bitterly upbraided him for his nefarious love for his brother's "future +wife." + +When the evening began to grow cool the party went in-doors, and the +dancing began. + +Ola did not dance much at any time, but to-day he was not at all in +the humor. He occupied himself in observing Hans, who spent the whole +evening in worshipping his lady-love. A spasm shot through Ola's heart +when he saw the light-green frock whirl away in his brother's arms, and +it seemed to him that they danced every dance together. + +At last came the time for breaking up. Most of the older folks had +already taken their departure in their respective carriages, the +young people having resolved to see each other home in the delicious +moonlight. + +But when the last galop was over, the hostess would not hear of the +young ladies going right out into the evening air, while they were still +warm with dancing. She therefore decreed half an hour for cooling down, +and, to occupy this time in the pleasantest manner, she begged Cousin +Hans to sing a little song. + +He was ready at once, he was not one of those foolish people who require +pressing; he knew quite well the value of his talent. + +There was, however, this peculiarity about Hans's singing, or rather +about its reception, that opinion was more than usually divided as to +its merits. By three persons in the world his execution was admired as +something incomparable. These three persons were, first, Cousin Ola, +then Aunt Maren, and lastly Cousin Hans himself. Then there was a large +party which thought it great fun to hear Cousin Hans sing. "He always +makes something out of it." But lastly there came a few evil-disposed +people who asserted that he could neither sing nor play. + +It was with respect to the latter point, the accompaniment, that Cousin +Ola always cherished a secret reproach against his brother--the only +shadow upon his admiration for him. + +He knew how much labor it had cost both Hans himself and his sisters to +get him drilled in these accompaniments, especially in the three +minor chords with which he always finished up, and which he practised +beforehand every time he went to a party. + +So, when he saw his brother seated at the piano, letting his fingers run +lightly and carelessly over the key-board, and then looking up to +the ceiling and muttering, "What key is it in again?" as if he were +searching for the right one, a shiver always ran through Cousin Ola. For +he knew that Hans had mastered three accompaniments, and no more--one +minor and two major. + +And when the singer, before rising from the piano, threw in these three +carefully-practised minor chords so lightly, and with such an impromptu +air, as if his fingers had instinctively chanced upon them, then Ola +shook his head and said to himself, "This is not quite straightforward +of Hans." + +In the mean time his brother sang away at his rich repertory. Schumann +and Kierulf were his favorites, so he performed _"Du bist die Ruh," "My +loved one, I am prison'd" "Ich grolle nicht," "Die alten boesen Lieder," +"I lay my all, love, at thy feet," "Aus meiren grossen Schmerzen mach' +ich die kleinen Lieder"_--all with the same calm superiority, and that +light, half-sportive accompaniment. The only thing that gave him a +little trouble was that fatal point, _"Ich legt' auch meine Liebe, Und +meinen Schmerz hinein;"_ but even of this he made something. + +Then Ola, who knew to a nicety the limits of his brother's musical +accomplishment, noticed that he was leaving the beaten track, and +beginning to wander among the keys; and presently he was horrified to +find that Hans was groping after that unhappy "Hope's clad in April +green." But fortunately he could not hit upon it, so he confined himself +to humming the song half aloud, while he threw in the three famous minor +chords. + +"Now we're quite cool again," cried the fair one in light green, +hastily. + +There was a general burst of laughter at her eagerness to get away, and +she was quite crimson when she said good-night. + +Cousin Ola, who was standing near the hostess, also took his leave. +Cousin Hans, on the other hand, was detained by the Sheriff, who was +anxious to learn under what teachers he had studied music; and that took +time. + +Thus it happened that Ola and the fair one in the light green passed out +into the passage at the same time. There the young folks were crowding +round the hat-pegs, some to find their own wraps, some to take down +other people's. + +"I suppose it's no good trying to push our way forward," said the fair +one. + +Ola's windpipe contracted in such a vexatious way that he only succeeded +in uttering a meaningless sound. They stood close to each other in +the crush, and Ola would gladly have given a finger to be able to say +something pleasant to her, or at least something rational; but he found +it quite impossible. + +"Of course you've enjoyed the evening?" said she, in a friendly tone. + +Cousin Ola thought of the pitiful part he had been playing all evening; +his unsociableness weighed so much upon his mind that he answered--the +very stupidest thing he could have answered, he thought, the moment the +words were out of his lips--"I'm so sorry that I can't sing." + +"I suppose it's a family failing," answered the fair one, with a rapid +glance. + +"N-n-no," said Ola, exceedingly put out, "my brother sings capitally." + +"Do you think so?" she said, drily. + +This was the most astounding thing that had ever happened to Ola: that +there could be more than one opinion about his brother's singing, and +that she, his "future wife," did not seem to admire it! And yet it was +not quite unpleasant to him to hear it. + +Again there was a silence, which Ola sought in vain to break. + +"Don't you care for dancing?" she asked. + +"Not with every one," he blurted out. + +She laughed: "No, no; but gentlemen have the right to choose." + +Now Ola began to lose his footing. He felt like a man who is walking, +lost in thought, through the streets on a winter evening, and who +suddenly discovers that he has got upon a patch of slippery ice. There +was nothing for it but to keep up and go ahead; so, with the courage +of despair, he said "If I knew--or dared to hope--that one of the +ladies--no--that the lady I wanted to dance with--that she would care +to--hm--that she would dance with me, then--then--" he could get no +further, and after saying "then" two or three times over, he came to a +stand-still. + +"You could ask her," said the fair one. + +Her bracelet had come unfastened, and its clasp was so stiff that she +had to bend right forward and pinch it so hard that she became quite red +in the face, in order to fasten it again. + +"Would you, for example, dance with me?" Ola's brain was swimming. + +"Why not?" she answered. She stood pressing the point of her shoe into a +crack in the floor. + +"We're to have a party at the Parsonage on Friday--would you give me a +dance then?" + +"With pleasure; which would you like?" she answered, trying her best to +assume a "society" manner. + +"A quadrille?" said Ola; thinking: "Quadrilles are so long." + +"The second quadrille is disengaged," answered the lady. + +"And a galop?" + +"Yes, thank you; the first galop," she replied, with a little +hesitation. + +"And a polka?" + +"No, no! no more," cried the fair one, looking at Ola with alarm. + +At the same moment, Hans came rushing along at full speed. "Oh, how +lucky I am to find you!--but in what company!" + +Thereupon he took possession of the fair one in his amiable fashion, and +drew her away with him to find her wraps and join the others. + +"A quadrille and a galop; but no more--so so! so so!" repeated Cousin +Ola. He stood as though rooted to the spot. At last he became aware +that he was alone. He hastily seized a hat, slunk out by the back way, +sneaked through the garden, and clambered with great difficulty over the +garden fence, not far from the gate which stood ajar. + +He struck into the first foot-path through the fields, fixing his +eyes upon the Parsonage chimneys. He was vaguely conscious that he was +getting wet up to the knees in the long grass; but on the other hand, he +was not in the least aware that the Sheriff's old uniform cap, which he +had had the luck to snatch up in his haste, was waggling about upon his +head, until at last it came to rest when the long peak slipped down over +his ear. + +"A quadrille and a galop; but no more--so so! so so!--"--It was pretty +well on in the night when Hans approached the Parsonage. He had seen the +ladies of the Doctor's party home, and was now making up the accounts of +the day as he went along. + +"She's a little shy; but on the whole I don't dislike that." + +When he left the road at the Parsonage garden, he said, "She's +dreadfully shy--almost more than I care for." + +But as he crossed the farm-yard, he vowed that coy and capricious girls +were the most intolerable creatures he knew. The thing was that he did +not feel at all satisfied with the upshot of the day. Not that he for a +moment doubted that she loved him; but, just on that account, he thought +her coldness and reserve doubly annoying. She had never once thrown the +ring to him; she had never once singled him out in the cotillion; and on +the way home she had talked to every one but him. But he would adopt a +different policy the next time; she should soon come to repent that day. + +He slipped quietly into the house, so that his uncle might not hear how +late he was. In order to reach his own and his brother's bedroom he had +to pass through a long attic. A window in this attic was used by the +young men as a door through which to reach a sort of balcony, formed by +the canopy over the steps leading into the garden. + +Cousin Hans noticed that this window was standing open; and out upon the +balcony, in the clear moonlight, he saw his brother's figure. + +Ola still wore his white dancing-gloves; he held on to the railing with +both hands, and stared the moon straight in the face. + +Cousin Hans could not understand what his brother was doing out there +at that time of night; and least of all could he understand what had +induced him to put a flower-pot on his head. + +"He must be drunk," thought Hans, approaching him warily. + +Then he heard his brother muttering something about a quadrille and a +galop; after which he began to make some strange motions with his hands. + +Cousin Hans received the impression that he was trying to snap his +fingers; and presently Ola said, slowly, and clearly, in his +monotonous and unsympathetic speaking voice: "Hope's clad in April +green--trommelommelom, trommelommelom;" you see, poor fellow, he could +not sing. + + + + +AT THE FAIR. + +It was by the merest chance that Monsieur and Madame Tousseau came to +Saint-Germain-en-Laye in the early days of September. + +Four weeks ago they had been married in Lyons, which was their home; but +where they had passed these four weeks they really could not have told +you. The time had gone hop skip-and-jump; a couple of days had entirely +slipped out of their reckoning, and, on the other hand, they remembered +a little summer-house at Fontainebleau, where they had rested one +evening, as clearly as if they had passed half their lives there. + +Paris was, strictly speaking, the goal of their wedding journey, and +there they established themselves in a comfortable little _hotel garni_. +But the city was sultry and they could not rest; so they rambled about +among the small towns in the neighborhood, and found themselves, one +Sunday at noon, in Saint-Germain. + +"Monsieur and Madame have doubtless come to take part in the fete?" said +the plump little landlady of the Hotel Henri Quatre, as she ushered her +guests up the steps. + +The fete? They knew of no fete in the world except their own wedded +happiness; but they did not say so to the landlady. + +They soon learned that they had been lucky enough to drop into the very +midst of the great and celebrated fair which is held every year, on the +first Sunday of September, in the Forest of Saint-Germain. + +The young couple were highly delighted with their good hap. It seemed as +though Fortune followed at their heels, or rather ran ahead of them, to +arrange surprises. After a delicious tete-a-tete dinner behind one of +the clipped yew trees in the quaint garden, they took a carriage and +drove off to the forest. + +In the hotel garden, beside the little fountain in the middle of the +lawn, sat a ragged condor which the landlord had bought to amuse his +guests. It was attached to its perch by a good strong rope. But when the +sun shone upon it with real warmth, it fell a-thinking of the snow-peaks +of Peru, of mighty wing-strokes over the deep valleys--and then it +forgot the rope. + +Two vigorous strokes with its pinions would bring the rope up taut, and +it would fall back upon the sward. There it would lie by the hour, then +shake itself and clamber up to its little perch again. + +When it turned its head to watch the happy pair, Madame Tousseau burst +into a fit of laughter at its melancholy mien. + +The afternoon sun glimmered through the dense foliage of the +interminable straight-ruled avenue that skirts the terrace. The young +wife's veil fluttered aloft as they sped through the air, and wound +itself right round Monsieur's head. It took a long time to put it in +order again, and Madame's hat had to be adjusted ever so often. Then +came the relighting of Monsieur's cigar, and that, too, was quite a +business; for Madame's fan would always give a suspicious little flirt +every time the match was lighted; then a penalty had to be paid, and +that, again, took time. + +The aristocratic English family which was passing the summer at +Saint-Germain was disturbed in its regulation walk by the passing of the +gay little equipage. They raised their correct gray or blue eyes; there +was neither contempt nor annoyance in their look--only the faintest +shade of surprise. But the condor followed the carriage with its +eyes, until it became a mere black speck at the vanishing-point of the +straight-ruled interminable avenue. + +"La joyeuse fete des Loges" is a genuine fair, with gingerbread cakes, +sword-swallowers, and waffles piping hot. As the evening falls, colored +lamps and Chinese lanterns are lighted around the venerable oak which +stands in the middle of the fairground, and boys climb about among its +topmost branches with maroons and Bengal lights. + +Gentlemen of an inventive turn of mind go about with lanterns on their +hats, on their sticks, and wherever they can possibly hang; and the +most inventive of all strolls around with his sweetheart under a great +umbrella, with a lantern dancing from each rib. + +On the outskirts, bonfires are lighted; fowls are roasted on spits, +while potatoes are cut into slices and fried in dripping. Each aroma +seems to have its amateurs, for there are always people crowding round; +but the majority stroll up and down the long street of booths. + +Monsieur and Madame Tousseau had plunged into all the fun of the fair. +They had gambled in the most lucrative lottery in Europe, presided over +by a man who excelled in dubious witticisms. They had seen the fattest +goose in the world, and the celebrated flea, "Bismarch," who could +drive six horses. Furthermore, they had purchased gingerbread, shot at +a target for clay pipes and soft-boiled eggs, and finally had danced a +waltz in the spacious dancing-tent. + +They had never had such fun in their lives. There were no great people +there--at any rate, none greater than themselves. As they did not know a +soul, they smiled to every one, and when they met the same person twice +they laughed and nodded to him. + +They were charmed with everything. They stood outside the great circus +and ballet marquees and laughed at the shouting buffoons. Scraggy +mountebanks performed on trumpets, and young girls with well-floured +shoulders smiled alluringly from the platforms. + +Monsieur Tousseau's purse was never at rest; but they did not grow +impatient of the perpetual claims upon it. On the contrary, they only +laughed at the gigantic efforts these people would make to earn--perhaps +half a franc, or a few centimes. + +Suddenly they encountered a face they knew. It was a young American whom +they had met at the hotel in Paris. + +"Well, Monsieur Whitmore!" cried Madame Tousseau, gayly, "here at last +you've found a place where you can't possibly help enjoying yourself." + +"For my part," answered the American, slowly, "I find no enjoyment in +seeing the people who haven't money making fools of themselves to please +the people who have." + +"Oh, you're incorrigible!" laughed the young wife. "But I must +compliment you on the excellent French you are speaking to-day." + +After exchanging a few more words, they lost each other in the crowd; +Mr. Whitmore was going back to Paris immediately. + +Madame Tousseau's compliment was quite sincere. As a rule the grave +American talked deplorable French, but the answer he had made to Madame +was almost correct. It seemed as though it had been well thought out +in advance--as though a whole series of impressions had condensed +themselves into these words. Perhaps that was why his answer sank so +deep into the minds of Monsieur and Madame Tousseau. + +Neither of them thought it a particularly brilliant remark; on the +contrary, they agreed that it must be miserable to take so gloomy a view +of things. But, nevertheless, his words left something rankling. They +could not laugh so lightly as before, Madame felt tired, and they began +to think of getting homewards. + +Just as they turned to go down the long street of booths in order to +find their carriage, they met a noisy crew coming upward. + +"Let us take the other way," said Monsieur. + +They passed between two booths, and emerged at the back of one of the +rows. They stumbled over the tree-roots before their eyes got used to +the uncertain light which fell in patches between the tents. A dog, +which lay gnawing at something or other, rose with a snarl, and dragged +its prey further into the darkness, among the trees. + +On this side the booths were made up of old sails and all sorts of +strange draperies. Here and there light shone through the openings, and +at one place Madame distinguished a face she knew. + +It was the man who had sold her that incomparable gingerbread--Monsieur +had half of it still in his pocket. + +But it was curious to see the gingerbread-man from this side. Here was +something quite different from the smiling obsequiousness which had said +so many pretty things to her pretty face, and had been so unwearied in +belauding the gingerbread--which really was excellent. + +Now he sat crouched together, eating some indescribable mess out of a +checked pocket-handkerchief--eagerly, greedily, without looking up. + +Farther down they heard a muffled conversation. Madame was bent upon +peeping in; Monsieur objected, but he had to give in. + +An old mountebank sat counting a handful of coppers, grumbling and +growling the while. A young girl stood before him, shivering and +pleading for pardon; she was wrapped in a long water-proof. + +The man swore, and stamped on the ground. Then she threw off the +water-proof and stood half naked in a sort of ballet costume. Without +saying a word, and without smoothing her hair or preening her finery, +she mounted the little steps that led to the stage. + +At that moment she turned and looked at her father. Her face had already +put on the ballet-simper, but it now gave place to a quite different +expression. The mouth remained fixed, but the eyes tried, for a second, +to send him a beseeching smile. The mountebank shrugged his shoulders, +and held out his hand with the coppers; the girl turned, ducked under +the curtain, and was received with shouts and applause. + +Beside the great oak-tree the lottery man was holding forth as fluently +as ever. His witticisms, as the darkness thickened, grew less and less +dubious. There was a different ring, too, in the laughter of the crowd; +the men were noisier, the mountebanks leaner, the women more brazen, the +music falser--so it seemed, at least, to Madame and Monsieur. + +As they passed the dancing-tent the racket of a quadrille reached their +ears. "Great heavens!--was it really there that we danced?" said Madame, +and nestled closer to her husband. + +They made their way through the rout as quickly as they could; they +would soon reach their carriage, it was just beyond the circus-marquee. +It would be nice to rest and escape from all this hubbub. + +The platform in front of the circus-marquee was now vacant. Inside, in +the dim and stifling rotunda, the performance was in full swing. + +Only the old woman who sold the tickets sat asleep at her desk. And a +little way off, in the light of her lamp, stood a tiny boy. + +He was dressed in tights, green on one side, red on the other; on his +head he had a fool's cap with horns. + +Close up to the platform stood a woman wrapped in a black shawl. She +seemed to be talking to the boy. + +He advanced his red leg and his green leg by turns, and drew them back +again. At last he took three steps forward on his meagre shanks and held +out his hand to the woman. + +She took what he had in it, and disappeared into the darkness. + +He stood motionless for a moment, then he muttered some words and burst +into tears. + +Presently he stopped, and said: "Maman m'a pris mon sou!"--and fell to +weeping again. + +He dried his eyes and left off for a time, but as often as he repeated +to himself his sad little history--how his mother had taken his sou from +him--he was seized with another and a bitterer fit of weeping. + +He stooped and buried his face in the curtain. The stiff, wrinkly +oil-painting must be hard and cold to cry into. The little body shrank +together; he drew his green leg close up under him, and stood like a +stork upon the red one. + +No one on the other side of the curtain must hear that he was crying. +Therefore he did not sob like a child, but fought as a man fights +against a broken heart. + +When the attack was over, he blew his nose with his fingers, and wiped +them on his tights. With the dirty curtain he had dabbled the tears all +over his face until it was streaked with black; and in this guise, and +dry-eyed, he gazed for a moment over the fair. + +Then: "Maman m'a pris mon sou"--and he set off again. + +The backsweep of the wave leaves the beach dry for an instant while +the next wave is gathering. Thus sorrow swept in heavy surges over the +little childish heart. + +His dress was so ludicrous, his body so meagre, his weeping was so +wofully bitter, and his suffering so great and man-like----But at home +at the hotel--the Pavillon Henri Quatre, where the Queens of France +condescended to be brought to bed there the condor sat and slept upon +its perch. + +And it dreamed its dream--its only dream--its dream about the snow-peaks +of Peru and the mighty wing-strokes over the deep valleys; and then it +forgot its rope. + +It uplifted its ragged pinions vigorously, and struck two sturdy +strokes. Then the rope drew taut, and it fell back where it was wont to +fall--it wrenched its claw, and the dream vanished.----Next morning the +aristocratic English family was much concerned, and the landlord himself +felt annoyed, for the condor lay dead upon the grass. + + + + +TWO FRIENDS. + +No one could understand where he got his money from. But the person who +marvelled most at the dashing and luxurious life led by Alphonse was his +quondam friend and partner. + +After they dissolved partnership, most of the custom and the best +connection passed by degrees into Charles's hands. This was not because +he in any way sought to run counter to his former partner; on the +contrary, it arose simply from the fact that Charles was the more +capable man of the two. And as Alphonse had now to work on his own +account, it was soon clear to any one who observed him closely, that +in spite of his promptitude, his amiability and his prepossessing +appearance, he was not fitted to be at the head of an independent +business. + +And there was one person who _did_ observe him closely. Charles followed +him step by step with his sharp eyes; every blunder, every extravagance, +every loss he knew all to a nicety, and he wondered that Alphonse could +keep going so long.--They had as good as grown up together. Their +mothers were cousins; the families had lived near each other in the +same street; and in a city like Paris proximity is as important as +relationship in promoting close intercourse. Moreover, the boys went to +the same school. + +Thenceforth, as they grew up to manhood, they were inseparable. Mutual +adaptation overcame the great differences which originally marked their +characters, until at last their idiosyncrasies fitted into each +other like the artfully-carved pieces of wood which compose the +picture-puzzles of our childhood. + +The relation between them was really a beautiful one, such as does +not often arise between two young men; for they did not understand +friendship as binding the one to bear everything at the hands of +the other, but seemed rather to vie with each other in mutual +considerateness. + +If, however, Alphonse in his relation to Charles showed any high degree +of considerateness, he him self was ignorant of it; and if any one had +told him of it he would doubtless have laughed loudly at such a mistaken +compliment. + +For as life on the whole appeared to him very simple and +straightforward, the idea that his friendship should in any way fetter +him was the last thing that could enter his head. That Charles was his +best friend seemed to him as entirely natural as that he himself danced +best, rode best, was the best shot, and that the whole world was ordered +entirely to his mind. + +Alphonse was in the highest degree a spoilt child of fortune; he +acquired everything without effort; existence fitted him like an elegant +dress, and he wore it with such unconstrained amiability that people +forgot to envy him. + +And then he was so handsome. He was tall and slim, with brown hair and +big open eyes; his complexion was clear and smooth, and his teeth shone +when he laughed. He was quite conscious of his beauty, but, as everybody +had petted him from his earliest days, his vanity was of a cheerful, +good-natured sort, which, after all, was not so offensive. He was +exceedingly fond of his friend. He amused himself and sometimes others +by teasing him and making fun of him; but he knew Charles's face so +thoroughly that he saw at once when the jest was going too far. Then +he would resume his natural, kindly tone, until he made the serious and +somewhat melancholy Charles laugh till he was ill. + +From his boyhood Charles had admired Alphonse beyond measure. He himself +was small and insignificant, quiet and shy. His friend's brilliant +qualities cast a lustre over him as well, and gave a certain impetus to +his life. + +His mother often said: "This friendship between the boys is a real +blessing for my poor Charles, for without it he would certainly have +been a melancholy creature." + +When Alphonse was on all occasions preferred to him, Charles rejoiced; +he was proud of his friend. He wrote his exercises, prompted him at +examination, pleaded his cause with the masters, and fought for him with +the boys. + +At the commercial academy it was the same story. Charles worked for +Alphonse, and Alphonse rewarded him with his inexhaustible amiability +and unfailing good-humor. + +When subsequently, as quite young men, they were placed in the same +banker's office, it happened one day that the principal said to Charles: +"From the first of May I will raise your salary." + +"I thank you," answered Charles, "both on my own and on my friend's +behalf." + +"Monsieur Alphonse's salary remains unaltered," replied the chief, and +went on writing. + +Charles never forgot that morning. It was the first time he had been +preferred or distinguished before his friend. And it was his commercial +capacity, the quality which, as a young man of business, he valued most, +that had procured him this preference; and it was the head of the firm, +the great financier, who had himself accorded him such recognition. + +The experience was so strange to him that it seemed like an injustice to +his friend. He told Alphonse nothing of the occurrence; on the contrary, +he proposed that they should apply for two vacant places in the Credit +Lyonnais. + +Alphonse was quite willing, for he loved change, and the splendid +new banking establishment on the, Boulevard seemed to him far more +attractive than the dark offices in the Rue Bergere. So they removed to +the Credit Lyonnais on the first of May. But as they were in the chief's +office taking their leave, the old banker said to Charles, when Alphonse +had gone out (Alphonse always took precedence of Charles), "Sentiment +won't do for a business man." + +From that day forward a change went on in Charles. He not only worked as +industriously and conscientiously as before, but developed such energy +and such an amazing faculty for labor as soon attracted to him the +attention of his superiors. That he was far ahead of his friend in +business capacity was soon manifest; but every time he received a new +mark of recognition he had a struggle with himself. For a long time, +every advancement brought with it a certain qualm of conscience; and yet +he worked on with restless ardor. + +One day Alphonse said, in his light, frank way: "You are really a smart +fellow, Charlie! You're getting ahead of everybody, young and old--not +to mention me. I'm quite proud of you!" + +Charles felt ashamed. He had been thinking that Alphonse must feel +wounded at being left on one side, and now he learned that his friend +not only did not grudge him his advancement, but was even proud of him. +By degrees his conscience was lulled to rest, and his solid worth was +more and more appreciated-- + +But if he was in reality the more capable, how came it that he was +so entirely ignored in society, while Alphonse remained everybody's +darling? The very promotions and marks of appreciation which he had won +for himself by hard work, were accorded him in a dry, business manner; +while every one, from the directors to the messengers, had a friendly +word or a merry greeting for Alphonse. + +In the different offices and departments of the bank they intrigued +to obtain possession of Monsieur Alphonse; for a breath of life and +freshness followed ever in the wake of his handsome person and joyous +nature. Charles, on the other hand, had often remarked that his +colleagues regarded him as a dry person, who thought only of business +and of himself. + +The truth was that he had a heart of rare sensitiveness, with no faculty +for giving it expression. + +Charles was one of those small, black Frenchmen whose beard begins right +under the eyes; his complexion was yellowish and his hair stiff and +splintery. His eyes did not dilate when he was pleased and animated, but +they flashed around and glittered. When he laughed the corners of his +mouth turned upward, and many a time, when his heart was full of joy +and good-will, he had seen people draw back, half-frightened by his +forbidding exterior. Alphonse alone knew him so well that he never +seemed to see his ugliness; every one else misunderstood him. He became +suspicious, and retired more and more within himself. + +In an insensible crescendo the thought grew in him: Why should he never +attain anything of that which he most longed for--intimate and cordial +intercourse and friendliness which should answer to the warmth pent up +within him? Why should everyone smile to Alphonse with out-stretched +hands, while he must content himself with stiff bows and cold glances! + +Alphonse knew nothing of all this. He was joyous and healthy, charmed +with life and content with his daily work. He had been placed in the +easiest and most interesting branch of the business, and, with his quick +brain and his knack of making himself agreeable, he filled his place +satisfactorily. + +His social circle was very large--every one set store by his +acquaintance, and he was at least as popular among women as among men. + +For a time Charles accompanied Alphonse into society, until he was +seized by a misgiving that he was invited for his friend's sake alone, +when he at once drew back. + +When Charles proposed that they should set up in business together, +Alphonse had answered: "It is too good of you to choose me. You could +easily find a much better partner." + +Charles had imagined that their altered relations and closer association +in work would draw Alphonse out of the circles which Charles could not +now endure, and unite them more closely. For he had conceived a vague +dread of losing his friend. + +He did not himself know, nor would it have been easy to decide, whether +he was jealous of all the people who flocked around Alphonse and drew +him to them, or whether he envied his friend's popularity.--They began +their business prudently and energetically, and got on well. + +It was generally held that each formed an admirable complement to the +other. Charles represented the solid, confidence-inspiring element, +while the handsome and elegant Alphonse imparted to the firm a certain +lustre which was far from being without value. + +Every one who came into the counting-house at once remarked his handsome +figure, and thus it seemed quite natural that all should address +themselves to him. + +Charles meanwhile bent over his work and let Alphonse be spokesman. +When Alphonse asked him about anything, he answered shortly and quietly +without looking up. + +Thus most people thought that Charles was a confidential clerk, while +Alphonse was the real head of the house. + +As Frenchmen, they thought little about marrying, but as young Parisians +they led a life into which erotics entered largely. + +Alphonse was never really in his element except when in female society. +Then all his exhilarating amiability came into play, and when he leaned +back at supper and held out his shallow champagne-glass to be refilled, +he was as beautiful as a happy god. + +He had a neck of the kind which women long to caress, and his soft, +half-curling hair looked as if it were negligently arranged, or +carefully disarranged, by a woman's coquettish hand. + +Indeed, many slim white fingers had passed through those locks; for +Alphonse had not only the gift of being loved by women, but also the yet +rarer gift of being forgiven by them. + +When the friends were together at gay supper-parties, Alphonse paid no +particular heed to Charles. He kept no account of his own love-affairs, +far less of those of his friend. So it might easily happen that a beauty +on whom Charles had cast a longing eye fell into the hands of Alphonse. + +Charles was used to seeing his friend preferred in life; but there are +certain things to which men can scarcely accustom themselves. He seldom +went with Alphonse to his suppers, and it was always long before the +wine and the general exhilaration could bring him into a convivial +humor. + +But then, when the champagne and the bright eyes had gone to his head, +he would often be the wildest of all; he would sing loudly with his +harsh voice, laugh and gesticulate so that his stiff black hair fell +over his forehead; and then the merry ladies shrank from him, and +called him the "chimney-sweep."--As the sentry paces up and down in the +beleaguered fortress, he sometimes hears a strange sound in the silent +night, as if something were rustling under his feet. It is the enemy, +who has undermined the outworks, and to-night or to-morrow night there +will be a hollow explosion, and armed men will storm in through the +breach. + +If Charles had kept close watch over himself he would have heard strange +thoughts rustling within him. But he would not hear--he had only a dim +foreboding that some time there must come an explosion.--And one day it +came. + +It was already after business hours; the clerks had all left the outer +office, and only the principals remained behind. + +Charles was busily writing a letter which he wished to finish before he +left. + +Alphonse had drawn on both his gloves and buttoned them. Then he had +brushed his hat until it shone, and now he was walking up and down and +peeping into Charles's letter every time he passed the desk. + +They used to spend an hour every day before dinner in a cafe on the +great Boulevard, and Alphonse was getting impatient for his newspapers. + +"Will you never have finished that letter?" he said, rather irritably. + +Charles was silent a second or two, then he sprang up so that his chair +fell over: "Perhaps Alphonse imagined that he could do it better? Did +he not know which of them was really the man of business?" And now the +words streamed out with that incredible rapidity of which the French +language is capable when it is used in fiery passion. + +But it was a turbid stream, carrying with it many ugly expressions, +upbraidings and recriminations; and through the whole there sounded +something like a suppressed sob. + +As he strode up and down the room, with clenched hands and dishevelled +hair, Charles looked like a little wiry-haired terrier barking at an +elegant Italian greyhound. At last he seized his hat and rushed out. + +Alphonse had stood looking at him with great wondering eyes. When he was +gone, and there was once more silence in the room, it seemed as though +the air was still quivering with the hot words. Alphonse recalled them +one by one, as he stood motionless beside the desk. + +"Did he not know which was the abler of the two?" Yes, assuredly! he had +never denied that Charles was by far his superior. + +"He must not think that he would succeed in winning everything to +himself with his smooth face." Alphonse was not conscious of ever having +deprived his friend of anything. + +"I don't care for your _cocottes_," Charles had said. + +Could he really have been interested in the little Spanish dancer? If +Alphonse had only had the faintest suspicion of such a thing he would +never have looked at her. But that was nothing to get so wild about; +there were plenty of women in Paris. + +And at last: "As sure as to-morrow comes, I will dissolve partnership!" + +Alphonse did not understand it at all. He left the counting-house and +walked moodily through the streets until he met an acquaintance. That +put other thoughts into his head; but all day he had a feeling as if +something gloomy and uncomfortable lay in wait, ready to seize him so +soon as he was alone. + +When he reached home, late at night, he found a letter from Charles. +He opened it hastily; but it contained, instead of the apology he had +expected, only a coldly-worded request to M. Alphonse to attend at the +counting-house early the next morning "in order that the contemplated +dissolution of partnership might be effected as quickly as possible." + +Now, for the first time, did Alphonse begin to understand that the scene +in the counting-house had been more than a passing outburst of passion; +but this only made the affair more inexplicable. + +And the longer he thought it over, the more clearly did he feel that +Charles had been unjust to him. He had never been angry with his friend, +nor was he precisely angry even now. But as he repeated to himself +all the insults Charles had heaped upon him, his good-natured heart +hardened; and the next morning he took his place in silence, after a +cold "Good-morning." + +Although he arrived a whole hour earlier than usual, he could see that +Charles had been working long and industriously. There they sat, each on +his side of the desk; they spoke only the most indispensable words; now +and then a paper passed from hand to hand, but they never looked each +other in the face. + +In this way they both worked--each more busily than the other--until +twelve o'clock, their usual luncheon-time. + +This hour of dejeuner was the favorite time of both. Their custom was to +have it served in their office, and when the old house-keeper announced +that lunch was ready, they would both rise at once, even if they were in +the midst of a sentence or of an account. + +They used to eat standing by the fireplace or walking up and down in the +warm, comfortable office. Alphonse had always some piquant stories to +tell, and Charles laughed at them. These were his pleasantest hours. + +But that day, when Madame said her friendly "_Messieurs, on a servi_," +they both remained sitting. She opened her eyes wide, and repeated the +words as she went out, but neither moved. + +At last Alphonse felt hungry, went to the table, poured out a glass of +wine and began to eat his cutlet. But as he stood there eating, with his +glass in his hand, and looked round the dear old office where they had +spent so many pleasant hours, and then thought that they were to lose +all this and imbitter their lives for a whim, a sudden burst of passion, +the whole situation appeared to him so preposterous that he almost burst +out laughing. + +"Look here, Charles," he said, in the half-earnest, half-joking tone +which always used to make Charles laugh, "it will really be too absurd +to advertise: 'According to an amicable agreement, from such and such a +date the firm of--'" + +"I have been thinking," interrupted Charles, quietly, "that we will put: +'According to mutual agreement.'" + +Alphonse laughed no more; he put down his glass, and the cutlet tasted +bitter in his mouth. + +He understood that friendship was dead between them, why or wherefore he +could not tell; but he thought that Charles was hard and unjust to him. +He was now stiffer and colder than the other. + +They worked together until the business of dissolution was finished; +then they parted. + + +A considerable time passed, and the two quondam friends worked each in +his own quarter in the great Paris. They met at the Bourse, but never +did business with each other. Charles never worked against Alphonse; he +did not wish to ruin him; he wished Alphonse to ruin himself. + +And Alphonse seemed likely enough to meet his friend's wishes in this +respect. It is true that now and then he did a good stroke of business, +but the steady industry he had learned from Charles he soon forgot. He +began to neglect his office, and lost many good connections. + +He had always had a taste for dainty and luxurious living, but his +association with the frugal Charles had hitherto held his extravagances +in check. Now, on the contrary, his life became more and more +dissipated. He made fresh acquaintances on every hand, and was more than +ever the brilliant and popular Monsieur Alphonse; but Charles kept an +eye on his growing debts. + +He had Alphonse watched as closely as possible, and, as their business +was of the same kind, could form a pretty good estimate of the other's +earnings. His expenses were even easier to ascertain, and he, soon +assured himself of the fact that Alphonse was beginning to run into debt +in several quarters. + +He cultivated some acquaintances about whom he otherwise cared nothing, +merely because through them he got an insight into Alphonse's expensive +mode of life and rash prodigality. He sought the same cafes and +restaurants as Alphonse, but at different times; he even had his clothes +made by the same tailor, because the talkative little man entertained +him with complaints that Monsieur Alphonse never paid his bills. + +Charles often thought how easy it would be to buy up a part of +Alphonse's liabilities and let them fall into the hands of a grasping +usurer. But it would be a great injustice to suppose that Charles for a +moment contemplated doing such a thing himself. It was only an idea he +was fond of dwelling upon; he was, as it were, in love with Alphonse's +debts. + +But things went slowly, and Charles became pale and sallow while he +watched and waited. + +He was longing for the time when the people who had always looked down +upon him should have their eyes opened, and see how little the brilliant +and idolized Alphonse was really fit for. He wanted to see him humbled, +abandoned by his friends, lonely and poor; and then--! + +Beyond that he really did not like to speculate; for at this point +feelings stirred within him which he would not acknowledge. + +He _would_ hate his former friend; he _would_ have revenge for all the +coldness and neglect which had been his own lot in life; and every time +the least thought in defence of Alphonse arose in his mind he pushed it +aside, and said, like the old banker: "Sentiment won't do for a business +man." + +One day he went to his tailor's; he bought more clothes in these days +than he absolutely needed. + +The nimble little man at once ran to meet him with a roll of cloth: +"See, here is the very stuff for you. Monsieur Alphonse has had a whole +suit made of it, and Monsieur Alphonse is a gentleman who knows how to +dress." + +"I did not think that Monsieur Alphonse was one of your favorite +customers," said Charles, rather taken by surprise. + +"Oh, _mon Dieu_!" exclaimed the little tailor, "you mean because I have +once or twice mentioned that Monsieur Alphonse owed me a few thousand +francs. It was very stupid of me to speak so. Monsieur Alphonse has +not only paid me the trifle he was owing, but I know that he has +also satisfied a number of other creditors. I have done _ce cher beau +monsieur_ great injustice, and I beg you never to give him a hint of my +stupidity." + +Charles was no longer listening to the chatter of the garrulous tailor. +He soon left the shop, and went up the street quite absorbed in the one +thought that Alphonse had paid. + +He thought how foolish it really was of him to wait and wait for the +other's ruin. How easily might not the adroit and lucky Alphonse come +across many a brilliant business opening, and make plenty of money +without a word of it reaching Charles's ears. Perhaps, after all, he was +getting on well. Perhaps it would end in people saying: "See, at last +Monsieur Alphonse shows what he is fit for, now that he is quit of his +dull and crabbed partner!" + +Charles went slowly up the street with his head bent. Many people +jostled him, but he heeded not. His life seemed to him so meaningless, +as if he had lost all that he had ever possessed--or had he himself cast +it from him? Just then some one ran against him with more than usual +violence. He looked up. It was an acquaintance from the time when he and +Alphonse had been in the Credit Lyonnais. + +"Ah, good-day, Monsieur Charles!" cried he, "It is long since we met. +Odd, too, that I should meet you to-day. I was just thinking of you this +morning." + +"Why, may I ask?" said Charles, half-absently. + +"Well, you see, only to-day I saw up at the bank a paper--a bill for +thirty or forty thousand francs--bearing both your name and that +of Monsieur Alphonse. It astonished me, for I thought that you +two--hm!--had done with each other." + +"No, we have not quite done with each other yet," said Charles, slowly. + +He struggled with all his might to keep his face calm, and asked in +as natural a tone as he could command: "When does the bill fall due? I +don't quite recollect." + +"To-morrow or the day after, I think," answered the other, who was a +hard-worked business man, and was already in a hurry to be off. "It was +accepted by Monsieur Alphonse." + +"I know that," said Charles; "but could you not manage to let _me_ +redeem the bill to-morrow? It is a courtesy--a favor I am anxious to +do." + +"With pleasure. Tell your messenger to ask for me personally at the bank +to-morrow afternoon. I will arrange it; nothing easier. Excuse me; I'm +in a hurry. Good-bye!" and with that he ran on----Next day Charles sat +in his counting-house waiting for the messenger who had gone up to the +bank to redeem Alphonse's bill. + +At last a clerk entered, laid a folded blue paper by his principal's +side, and went out again. + +Not until the door was closed did Charles seize the draft, look swiftly +round the room, and open it. He stared for a second or two at his name, +then lay back in his chair and drew a deep breath. It was as he had +expected--the signature was a forgery. + +He bent over it again. For long he sat, gazing at his own name, and +observing how badly it was counterfeited. + +While his sharp eye followed every line in the letters of his name, +he scarcely thought. His mind was so disturbed, and his feelings so +strangely conflicting, that it was some time before he became conscious +how much they betrayed--these bungling strokes on the blue paper. + +He felt a strange lump in his throat, his nose began to tickle a little, +and, before he was aware of it, a big tear fell on the paper. + +He looked hastily around, took out his pocket-handkerchief, and +carefully wiped the wet place on the bill. He thought again of the old +banker in the Rue Bergere. + +What did it matter to him that Alphonse's weak character had at last +led him to crime, and what had he lost? Nothing, for did he not hate +his former friend? No one could say it was his fault that Alphonse was +ruined--he had shared with him honestly, and never harmed him. + +Then his thoughts turned to Alphonse. He knew him well enough to be sure +that when the refined, delicate Alphonse had sunk so low, he must have +come to a jutting headland in life, and be prepared to leap out of it +rather than let disgrace reach him. + +At this thought Charles sprang up. That must not be. Alphonse should not +have time to send a bullet through his head and hide his shame in the +mixture of compassion and mysterious horror which follows the suicide. +Thus Charles would lose his revenge, and it would be all to no purpose +that he had gone and nursed his hatred until he himself had become evil +through it. Since he had forever lost his friend, he would at least +expose his enemy, so that all should see what a miserable, despicable +being was this charming Alphonse. + +He looked at his watch; it was half-past four. Charles knew the cafe +in which he would find Alphonse at this hour; he pocketed the bill and +buttoned his coat. + +But on the way he would call at a police-station, and hand over the bill +to a detective, who at a sign from Charles should suddenly advance +into the middle of the cafe where Alphonse was always surrounded by his +friends and admirers, and say loudly and distinctly so that all should +hear it: + +"Monsieur Alphonse, you are charged with forgery." + + +It was raining in Paris. The day had been foggy, raw, and cold; and well +on in the afternoon it had begun to rain. It was not a downpour--the +water did not fall from the clouds in regular drops--but the clouds +themselves had, as it were, laid themselves down in the streets of Paris +and there slowly condensed into water. + +No matter how people might seek to shelter themselves, they got wet on +all sides. The moisture slid down the back of your neck, laid itself +like a wet towel about your knees, penetrated into your boots and far up +your trousers. + +A few sanguine ladies were standing in the _portes cocheres_, with their +skirts tucked up, expecting it to clear; others waited by the hour in +the omnibus stations. But most of the stronger sex hurried along under +their umbrellas; only a few had been sensible enough to give up the +battle, and had turned up their collars, stuck their umbrellas under +their arms, and their hands in their pockets. + +Although it was early in the autumn it was already dusk at five o'clock. +A few gas-jets lighted in the narrowest streets, and in a shop here and +there, strove to shine out in the thick wet air. + +People swarmed as usual in the streets, jostled one another off the +pavement, and ruined one another's umbrellas. All the cabs were taken +up; they splashed along and bespattered the foot-passengers to the best +of their ability, while the asphalte glistened in the dim light with a +dense coating of mud. + +The cafes were crowded to excess; regular customers went round and +scolded, and the waiters ran against each other in their hurry. Ever and +anon, amid the confusion, could be heard the sharp little ting of the +bell on the buffet; it was la _dame du comptoir_ summoning a waiter, +while her calm eyes kept a watch upon the whole cafe. + +A lady sat at the buffet of a large restaurant on the Boulevard +Sebastopol. She was widely known for her cleverness and her amiable +manners. + +She had glossy black hair, which, in spite of the fashion, she wore +parted in the middle of her forehead in natural curls. Her eyes were +almost black and her mouth full, with a little shadow of a mustache. + +Her figure was still very pretty, although, if the truth were known, she +had probably passed her thirtieth year; and she had a soft little hand, +with which she wrote elegant figures in her cash-book, and now and then +a little note. Madame Virginie could converse with the young dandies who +were always hanging about the buffet, and parry their witticisms, while +she kept account with the waiters and had her eye upon every corner of +the great room. + +She was really pretty only from five till seven in the afternoon--that +being the time at which Alphonse invariably visited the cafe. Then +her eyes never left him; she got a fresher color, her mouth was always +trembling into a smile, and her movements became somewhat nervous. That +was the only time of the day when she was ever known to give a random +answer or to make a mistake in the accounts; and the waiters tittered +and nudged each other. + +For it was generally thought that she had formerly had relations with +Alphonse, and some would even have it that she was still his mistress. + +She herself best knew how matters stood; but it was impossible to be +angry with Monsieur Alphonse. She was well aware that he cared no more +for her than for twenty others; that she had lost him--nay, that he had +never really been hers. And yet her eyes besought a friendly look, and +when he left the cafe without sending her a confidential greeting, it +seemed as though she suddenly faded, and the waiters said to each other: +"Look at Madame; she is gray to-night"----Over at the windows it +was still light enough to read the papers; a couple of young men were +amusing themselves with watching the crowds which streamed past. Seen +through the great plate-glass windows, the busy forms gliding past one +another in the dense, wet, rainy air looked like fish in an aquarium. +Farther back in the cafe, and over the billiard-tables, the gas was +lighted. Alphonse was playing with a couple of friends. + +He had been to the buffet and greeted Madame Virginie, and she, who had +long noticed how Alphonse was growing paler day by day, had--half in +jest, half in anxiety--reproached him with his thoughtless life. + +Alphonse answered with a poor joke and asked for absinthe. + +How she hated those light ladies of the ballet and the opera who enticed +Monsieur Alphonse to revel night after night at the gaming-table, or at +interminable suppers! How ill he had been looking these last few weeks! +He had grown quite thin, and the great gentle eyes had acquired a +piercing, restless look. What would she not give to be able to rescue +him out of that life that was dragging him down! She glanced in the +opposite mirror and thought she had beauty enough left. + +Now and then the door opened and a new guest came in, stamped his feet +and shut his wet umbrella. All bowed to Madame Virginie, and almost all +said, "What horrible weather!" + +When Charles entered he saluted shortly and took a seat in the corner +beside the fireplace. + +Alphonse's eyes had indeed become restless. He looked towards the door +every time any one came in; and when Charles appeared, a spasm passed +over his face and he missed his stroke. + +"Monsieur Alphonse is not in the vein to-day," said an onlooker. + +Soon after a strange gentleman came in. Charles looked up from his +paper and nodded slightly; the stranger raised his eyebrows a little and +looked at Alphonse. + +He dropped his cue on the floor. + +"Excuse me, gentlemen, I'm not in the mood for billiards to-day," said +he, "permit me to leave off. Waiter, bring me a bottle of seltzer-water +and a spoon--I must take my dose of Vichy salts." + +"You should not take so much Vichy salts, Monsieur Alphonse, but rather +keep to a sensible diet," said the doctor, who sat a little way off +playing chess. + +Alphonse laughed, and seated himself at the newspaper table. He +seized the _Journal Amusant_, and began to make merry remarks upon the +illustrations. A little circle quickly gathered round him, and he was +inexhaustible in racy stories and whimsicalities. + +While he rattled on under cover of the others' laughter, he poured out +a glass of seltzer-water and took from his pocket a little box on which +was written, in large letters, "Vichy Salts." + +He shook the powder out into the glass and stirred it round with a +spoon. There was a little cigar-ash on the floor in front of his chair; +he whipped it off with his pocket-handkerchief, and then stretched out +his hand for the glass. + +At that moment he felt a hand on his arm. Charles had risen and hurried +across the room; he now bent down over Alphonse. + +Alphonse turned his head towards him so that none but Charles could +see his face. At first he let his eyes travel furtively over his old +friend's figure; then he looked up, and, gazing straight at Charles, he +said, half aloud, "Charlie!" + +It was long since Charles had heard that old pet name. He gazed into the +well-known face, and now for the first time saw how it had altered of +late. It seemed to him as though he were reading a tragic story about +himself. + +They remained thus for a second or two, and there glided over Alphonse's +features that expression of imploring helplessness which Charles knew +so well from the old school days, when Alphonse came bounding in at the +last moment and wanted his composition written. + +"Have you done with the _Journal Amusant_?" asked Charles, with a thick +utterance. + +"Yes; pray take it," answered Alphonse, hurriedly. He reached him the +paper, and at the same time got hold of Charles's thumb. He pressed it +and whispered, "Thanks," then--drained the glass. + +Charles went over to the stranger who sat by the door: "Give me the +bill." + +"You don't need our assistance, then?" + +"No, thanks." + +"So much the better," said the stranger, handing Charles a folded blue +paper. Then he paid for his coffee and went.----Madame Virginie rose +with a little shriek: "Alphonse! Oh, my God! Monsieur Alphonse is ill." + +He slipped off his chair; his shoulders went up and his head fell on one +side. He remained sitting on the floor, with his back against the chair. + +There was a movement among those nearest; the doctor sprang over and +knelt beside him. When he looked in Alphonse's face he started a little. +He took his hand as if to feel his pulse, and at the same time bent down +over the glass which stood on the edge of the table. + +With a movement of the arm he gave it a slight push, so that it fell +on the floor and was smashed. Then he laid down the dead man's hand and +bound a handkerchief round his chin. + +Not till then did the others understand what had happened. "Dead? Is he +dead, doctor? Monsieur Alphonse dead?" + +"Heart disease," answered the doctor. + +One came running with water, another with vinegar. Amid laughter and +noise, the balls could be heard cannoning on the inner billiard-table. + +"Hush!" some one whispered. "Hush!" was repeated; and the silence spread +in wider and wider circles round the corpse, until all was quite still. + +"Come and lend a hand," said the doctor. + +The dead man was lifted up; they laid him on a sofa in a corner of the +room, and the nearest gasjets were put out. + +Madame Virginie was still standing up; her face was chalk-white, and she +held her little soft hand pressed against her breast. They carried him +right past the buffet. The doctor had seized him under the back, so that +his waistcoat slipped up and a piece of his fine white shirt appeared. + +She followed with her eyes the slender, supple limbs she knew so well, +and continued to stare towards the dark corner. + +Most of the guests went away in silence. A couple of young men entered +noisily from the street; a waiter ran towards them and said a few words. +They glanced towards the corner, buttoned their coats, and plunged out +again into the fog. + +The half-darkened cafe was soon empty; only some of Alphonse's nearest +friends stood in a group and whispered. The doctor was talking with the +proprietor, who had now appeared on the scene. + +The waiters stole to and fro making great circuits to avoid the dark +corner. One of them knelt and gathered up the fragments of the glass on +a tray. He did his work as quietly as he could; but for all that it made +too much noise. + +"Let that alone until by-and-by," said the host, softly.--Leaning +against the chimney-piece, Charles looked at the dead man. He slowly +tore the folded paper to pieces, while he thought of his friend-- + + + + +A GOOD CONSCIENCE. + +An elegant little carriage, with two sleek and well-fed horses, drew up +at Advocate Abel's garden gate. + +Neither silver nor any other metal was visible in the harness; +everything was a dull black, and all the buckles were leather-covered. +In the lacquering of the carriage there was a trace of dark green; the +cushions were of a subdued dust-color; and only on close inspection +could you perceive that the coverings were of the richest silk. The +coachman looked like an English clergyman, in his close-buttoned black +coat, with a little stand-up collar and stiff white necktie. + +Mrs. Warden, who sat alone in the carriage, bent forward and laid her +hand upon the ivory door-handle; then she slowly alighted, drew her long +train after her, and carefully closed the carriage door. + +You might have wondered that the coachman did not dismount to help her; +the fat horses certainly did not look as though they would play any +tricks if he dropped the reins. + +But when you looked at his immovable countenance and his correct +iron-gray whiskers, you understood at once that this was a man who knew +what he was doing, and never neglected a detail of his duty. + +Mrs. Warden passed through the little garden in front of the house, and +entered the garden-room. The door to the adjoining room stood half open, +and there she saw the lady of the house at a large table covered with +rolls of light stuff and scattered numbers of the _Bazar_. + +"Ah, you've come just at the right moment, my dear Emily!" cried Mrs. +Abel, "I'm quite in despair over my dress-maker--she can't think of +anything new. And here I'm sitting, ransacking the _Bazar_. Take off +your shawl, dear, and come and help me; it's a walking-dress." + +"I'm afraid I'm scarcely the person to help you in a matter of dress," +answered Mrs. Warden. + +Good-natured Mrs. Abel stared at her; there was something disquieting in +her tone, and she had a vast respect for her rich friend. + +"You remember I told you the other day that Warden had promised +me--that's to say"--Mrs. Warden corrected herself--"he had asked me to +order a new silk dress--" + +"From Madame Labiche--of course!"--interrupted Mrs. Abel. "And I suppose +you're on your way to her now? Oh, take me with you! It will be such +fun!" + +"I am not going to Madame Labiche's," answered Mrs. Warden, almost +solemnly. + +"Good gracious, why not?" asked her friend, while her good-humored brown +eyes grew spherical with astonishment. + +"Well, you must know," answered Mrs. Warden, "it seems to me we can't +with a good conscience pay so much money for unnecessary finery, when +we know that on the outskirts of the town--and even at our very +doors--there are hundreds of people living in destitution--literally in +destitution." + +"Yes, but," objected the advocate's wife, casting an uneasy glance over +her table, "isn't that the way of the world? We know that inequality--" + +"We ought to be careful not to increase the inequality, but rather to do +what we can to smooth it away," Mrs. Warden interrupted. And it appeared +to Mrs. Abel that her friend cast a glance of disapprobation over the +table, the stuffs, and the _Bazars_. + +"It's only alpaca," she interjected, timidly. + +"Good heavens, Caroline!" cried Mrs. Warden, "pray don't think that +I'm reproaching you. These things depend entirely upon one's +individual point of view--every one must follow the dictates of his own +conscience." + +The conversation continued for some time, and Mrs. Warden related that +it was her intention to drive out to the very lowest of the suburbs, in +order to assure herself, with her own eyes, of the conditions of life +among the poor. + +On the previous day she had read the annual report of a private +charitable society of which her husband was a member. She had purposely +refrained from applying to the police or the poor-law authorities for +information. It was the very gist of her design personally to seek +out poverty, to make herself familiar with it, and then to render +assistance. + +The ladies parted a little less effusively than usual. They were both in +a serious frame of mind. + +Mrs. Abel remained in the garden-room; she felt no inclination to set to +work again at the walking-dress, although the stuff was really pretty. +She heard the muffled sound of the carriage-wheels as they rolled off +over the smooth roadway of the villa quarter. + +"What a good heart Emily has," she sighed. + +Nothing could be more remote than envy from the good-natured lady's +character; and yet--it was with a feeling akin to envy that she now +followed the light carriage with her eyes. But whether it was her +friend's good heart or her elegant equipage that she envied her it was +not easy to say. She had given the coachman his orders, which he had +received without moving a muscle; and as remonstrance was impossible to +him, he drove deeper and deeper into the queerest streets in the poor +quarter, with a countenance as though he were driving to a Court ball. + +At last he received orders to stop, and indeed it was high time. For +the street grew narrower and narrower, and it seemed as though the fat +horses and the elegant carriage must at the very next moment have stuck +fast, like a cork in the neck of a bottle. + +The immovable one showed no sign of anxiety, although the situation was +in reality desperate. A humorist, who stuck his head out of a garret +window, went so far as to advise him to slaughter his horses on the +spot, as they could never get out again alive. + +Mrs. Warden alighted, and turned into a still narrower street; she +wanted to see poverty at its very worst. + +In a door-way stood a half-grown girl. Mrs. Warden asked: "Do very poor +people live in this house?" + +The girl laughed and made some answer as she brushed close past her in +the narrow door-way. Mrs. Warden did not understand what she said, but +she had an impression that it was something ugly. + +She entered the first room she came to. + +It was not a new idea to Mrs. Warden that poor people never keep their +rooms properly ventilated. Nevertheless, she was so overpowered by the +atmosphere she found herself inhaling that she was glad to sink down on +a bench beside the stove. + +Mrs. Warden was struck by something in the gesture with which the woman +of the house swept down upon the floor the clothes which were lying on +the bench, and in the smile with which she invited the fine lady to be +seated. She received the impression that the poor woman had seen better +days, although her movements were bouncing rather than refined, and her +smile was far from pleasant. + +The long train of Mrs. Warden's pearl-gray visiting dress spread over +the grimy floor, and as she stooped and drew it to her she could not +help thinking of an expression of Heine's, "She looked like a bon-bon +which has fallen in the mire." + +The conversation began, and was carried on as such conversations usually +are. If each had kept to her own language and her own line of thought, +neither of these two women would have understood a word that the other +said. + +But as the poor always know the rich much better than the rich know the +poor, the latter have at last acquired a peculiar dialect--a particular +tone which experience has taught them to use when they are anxious to +make themselves understood--that is to say, understood in such a way +as to incline the wealthy to beneficence. Nearer to each other they can +never come. + +Of this dialect the poor woman was a perfect mistress, and Mrs. Warden +had soon a general idea of her miserable case. She had two children--a +boy of four or five, who was lying on the floor, and a baby at the +breast. + +Mrs. Warden gazed at the pallid little creature, and could not believe +that it was thirteen months old. At home in his cradle she herself had +a little colossus of seven months, who was at least half as big again as +this child. + +"You must give the baby something strengthening," she said; and she had +visions of phosphate food and orange jelly. + +At the words "something strengthening," a shaggy head looked up from the +bedstraw; it belonged to a pale, hollow eyed man with a large woollen +comforter wrapped round his jaws. + +Mrs. Warden was frightened. "Your husband?" she asked. + +The poor woman answered yes, it was her husband. He had not gone to work +to-day because he had such bad toothache. + +Mrs. Warden had had toothache herself, and knew how painful it is. She +uttered some words of sincere sympathy. + +The man muttered something, and lay back again; and at the same moment +Mrs. Warden discovered an inmate of the room whom she had not hitherto +observed. + +It was a quite young girl, who was seated in the corner at the other +side of the stove. She stared for a moment at the fine lady, but quickly +drew back her head and bent forward, so that the visitor could see +little but her back. + +Mrs. Warden thought the girl had some sewing in her lap which she wanted +to hide; perhaps it was some old garment she was mending. + +"Why does the big boy lie upon the floor?" asked Mrs. Warden. + +"He's lame," answered the mother. And now followed a detailed account of +the poor boy's case, with many lamentations. He had been attacked with +hip-disease after the scarlet-fever. + +"You must buy him--" began Mrs. Warden, intending to say, "a +wheel-chair." But it occurred to her that she had better buy it herself. +It is not wise to let poor people get too much money into their hands. +But she would give the woman something at once. Here was real need, a +genuine case for help; and she felt in her pocket for her purse. + +It was not there. How annoying--she must have left it in the carriage. + +Just as she was turning to the woman to express her regret, and promise +to send some money presently, the door opened, and a well-dressed +gentleman entered. His face was very full, and of a sort of dry, mealy +pallor. + +"Mrs. Warden, I presume?" said the stranger. "I saw your carriage out in +the street, and I have brought you this--your purse, is it not?" + +Mrs. Warden looked at it--yes, certainly, it was hers, with E. W. inlaid +in black on the polished ivory. + +"I happened to see it, as I turned the corner, in the hands of a +girl--one of the most disreputable in the quarter," the stranger +explained; adding, "I am the poor-law inspector of the district." + +Mrs. Warden thanked him, although she did not at all like his +appearance. But when she again looked round the room she was quite +alarmed by the change which had taken place in its occupants. + +The husband sat upright in the bed and glared at the fat gentleman, +the wife's face wore an ugly smile, and even the poor wee cripple had +scrambled towards the door, and resting on his lean arms, stared upward +like a little animal. + +And in all these eyes there was the same hate, the same aggressive +defiance. Mrs. Warden felt as though she were now separated by an +immense interval from the poor woman with whom she had just been talking +so openly and confidentially. + +"So that's the state you're in to-day, Martin," said the gentleman, +in quite a different voice. "I thought you'd been in that affair last +night. Never mind, they're coming for you this afternoon. It'll be a two +months' business." + +All of a sudden the torrent was let loose. The man and woman shouted +each other down, the girl behind the stove came forward and joined in, +the cripple shrieked and rolled about. It was impossible to distinguish +the words; but what between voices, eyes, and hands, it seemed as +though the stuffy little room must fly asunder with all the wild passion +exploding in it. + +Mrs. Warden turned pale and rose, the gentleman opened the door, and +both hastened out. As she passed down the passage she heard a horrible +burst of feminine laughter behind her. It must be the woman--the same +woman who had spoken so softly and despondently about the poor children. + +She felt half angry with the man who had brought about this startling +change, and as they now walked side by side up the street she listened +to him with a cold and distant expression. + +But gradually her bearing changed; there was really so much in what he +said. + +The poor-law inspector told her what a pleasure it was to him to find a +lady like Mrs. Warden so compassionate towards the poor. Though it was +much to be deplored that even the most well-meant help so often +came into unfortunate hands, yet there was always something fine and +ennobling in seeing a lady like Mrs. Warden-- + +"But," she interrupted, "aren't these people in the utmost need of help? +I received the impression that the woman in particular had seen better +days, and that a little timely aid might perhaps enable her to recover +herself." + +"I am sorry to have to tell you, madam," said the poor-law inspector, in +a tone of mild regret, "that she was formerly a very notorious woman of +the town." + +Mrs. Warden shuddered. + +She had spoken to such a woman, and spoken about children. She had +even mentioned her own child, lying at home in its innocent cradle. She +almost felt as though she must hasten home to make sure it was still as +clean and wholesome as before. + +"And the young girl?" she asked, timidly. + +"No doubt you noticed her--her condition." + +"No. You mean--" + +The fat gentleman whispered some words. + +Mrs. Warden started: "By the man!--the man of the house?" + +"Yes, madam, I am sorry to have to tell you so; but you can understand +that these people--" and he whispered again. + +This was too much for Mrs. Warden. She turned almost dizzy, and accepted +the gentleman's arm. They now walked rapidly towards the carriage, which +was standing a little farther off than the spot at which she had left +it. + +For the immovable one had achieved a feat which even the humorist had +acknowledged with an elaborate oath. + +After sitting for some time, stiff as a poker, he had backed his sleek +horses, step by step, until they reached a spot where the street widened +a little, though the difference was imperceptible to any other eyes than +those of an accomplished coachman. + +A whole pack of ragged children swarmed about the carriage, and did all +they could to upset the composure of the sleek steeds. But the spirit of +the immovable one was in them. + +After having measured with a glance of perfect composure the distance +between two flights of steps, one on each side of the street, he made +the sleek pair turn, slowly and step by step, so short and sharp that it +seemed as though the elegant carriage must be crushed to fragments, +but so accurately that there was not an inch too much or too little on +either side. + +Now he once more sat stiff as a poker, still measuring with his eyes the +distance between the steps. He even made a mental note of the number +of a constable who had watched the feat, in order to have a witness to +appeal to if his account of it should be received with scepticism at the +stables. + +Mrs. Warden allowed the poor-law inspector to hand her into the +carriage. She asked him to call upon her the following day, and gave him +her address. + +"To Advocate Abel's!" she cried to the coachman. The fat gentleman +lifted his hat with a mealy smile, and the carriage rolled away. + +As they gradually left the poor quarter of the town behind, the motion +of the carriage became smoother, and the pace increased. And when they +emerged upon the broad avenue leading through the villa quarter, the +sleek pair snorted with enjoyment of the pure, delicate air from the +gardens, and the immovable one indulged, without any sort of necessity, +in three masterly cracks of his whip. + +Mrs. Warden, too, was conscious of the delight of finding herself once +more in the fresh air. The experiences she had gone through, and, still +more, what she had heard from the inspector, had had an almost numbing +effect upon her. She began to realize the immeasurable distance between +herself and such people as these. + +She had often thought there was something quite too sad, nay, almost +cruel, in the text: "Many are called, but few are chosen." + +Now she understood that it _could_ not be otherwise. + +How could people so utterly depraved ever attain an elevation at all +adequate to the demands of a strict morality? What must be the state of +these wretched creatures' consciences? And how should they be able to +withstand the manifold temptations of life? + +She knew only too well what temptation meant! Was she not incessantly +battling against a temptation--perhaps the most perilous of all--the +temptation of riches, about which the Scriptures said so many hard +things? + +She shuddered to think of what would happen if that brutish man and +these miserable women suddenly had riches placed in their hands. + +Yes, wealth was indeed no slight peril to the soul. It was only +yesterday that her husband had tempted her with such a delightful +little man-servant--a perfect English groom. But she had resisted the +temptation; and answered: "No, Warden, it would not be right; I will +not have a footman on the box. I dare say we can afford it; but let us +beware of overweening luxury. I assure you I don't require help to get +into the carriage and out of it; I won't even let the coachman get down +on my account." + +It did her good to think of this now, and her eyes rested complacently +on the empty seat on the box, beside the immovable one. + +Mrs. Abel, who was busy clearing away _Bazars_ and scraps of stuff from +the big table, was astonished to see her friend return so soon. + +"Why, Emily! Back again already? I've just been telling the dress-maker +that she can go. What you were saying to me has quite put me out of +conceit of my new frock; I can quite well get on without one--" said +good-natured Mrs. Abel; but her lips trembled a little as she spoke. + +"Every one must act according to his own conscience," answered Mrs. +Warden, quietly, "but I think it's possible to be too scrupulous." + +Mrs. Abel looked up; she had not expected this. + +"Just let me tell you what I've gone through," said Mrs. Warden, and +began her story. + +She sketched her first impression of the stuffy room and the wretched +people; then she spoke of the theft of her purse. + +"My husband always declares that people of that kind can't refrain from +stealing," said Mrs. Abel. + +"I'm afraid your husband is nearer the truth than we thought," replied +Mrs. Warden. + +Then she told about the inspector, and the ingratitude these people had +displayed towards the man who cared for them day by day. + +But when she came to what she had heard of the poor woman's past life, +and still more when she told about the young girl, Mrs. Abel was so +overcome that she had to ask the servant to bring some port-wine. + +When the girl brought in the tray with the decanter, Mrs. Abel whispered +to her: "Tell the dressmaker to wait." + +"And then, can you conceive it," Mrs. Warden continued--"I scarcely know +how to tell you"--and she whispered. + +"What do you say! In one bed! All! Why, it's revolting!" cried Mrs. +Abel, clasping her hands. + +"Yes, an hour ago I; too, could not have believed it possible," answered +Mrs. Warden, "But when you've been on the spot yourself, and seen with +your own eyes--" + +"Good heavens, Emily, how could you venture into such a place!" + +"I am glad I did, and still more glad of the happy chance that brought +the inspector on the scene just at the right time. For if it is +ennobling to bring succor to the virtuous poor who live clean and frugal +lives in their humble sphere, it would be unpardonable to help such +people as these to gratify their vile proclivities." + +"Yes, you're quite right, Emily! What I can't understand is how +people in a Christian community--people who have been baptized and +confirmed--can sink into such a state! Have they not every day--or, at +any rate, every Sunday--the opportunity of listening to powerful +and impressive sermons? And Bibles, I am told, are to be had for an +incredibly trifling sum." + +"Yes, and only to think," added Mrs. Warden, "that not even the heathen, +who are without all these blessings--that not even they have any excuse +for evil-doing; for they have conscience to guide them." + +"And I'm sure conscience speaks clearly enough to every one who has the +will to listen," Mrs. Abel exclaimed, with emphasis. + +"Yes, heaven knows it does," answered Mrs. Warden, gazing straight +before her with a serious smile. + +When the friends parted, they exchanged warm embraces. + +Mrs. Warden grasped the ivory handle, entered the carriage, and drew her +train after her. Then she closed the carriage door--not with a slam, but +slowly and carefully. + +"To Madame Labiche's!" she called to the coachman; then, turning to her +friend who had accompanied her right down to the garden gate, she said, +with a quiet smile: "Now, thank heaven, I can order my silk dress with a +good conscience." + +"Yes, indeed you can!" exclaimed Mrs. Abel, watching her with tears in +her eyes. Then she hastened in-doors. + + + + +ROMANCE AND REALITY. + +"Just you get married as soon as you can," said Mrs. Olsen. + +"Yes, I can't understand why it shouldn't be this very autumn," +exclaimed the elder Miss Ludvigsen, who was an enthusiast for ideal +love. + +"Oh, yes!" cried Miss Louisa, who was certain to be one of the +bridesmaids. + +"But Soeren says he can't afford it," answered the bride elect, somewhat +timidly. + +"Can't afford it!" repeated Miss Ludvigsen. "To think of a young girl +using such an expression! If you're going to let your new-born love be +overgrown with prosaic calculations, what will be left of the ideal halo +which love alone can cast over life? That a man should be alive to these +considerations I can more or less understand--it's in a way his duty; +but for a sensitive, womanly heart, in the heyday of sentiment!--No, no, +Marie; for heaven's sake, don't let these sordid money-questions darken +your happiness." + +"Oh, no!" cried Miss Louisa. + +"And, besides," Mrs. Olsen chimed in, "your _fiance_ is by no means so +badly off. My husband and I began life on much less.--I know you'll say +that times were different then. Good heavens, we all know that! What I +can't understand is that you don't get tired of telling us so. Don't you +think that we old people, who have gone through the transition period, +have the best means of comparing the requirements of to-day with those +of our youth? You can surely understand that with my experience of +house-keeping, I'm not likely to disregard the altered conditions of +life; and yet I assure you that the salary your intended receives +from my husband, with what he can easily earn by extra work, is quite +sufficient to set up house upon." + +Mrs. Olsen had become quite eager in her argument, though no one thought +of contradicting her. She had so often, in conversations of this sort, +been irritated to hear people, and especially young married women, +enlarging on the ridiculous cheapness of everything thirty years ago. +She felt as though they wanted to make light of the exemplary fashion in +which she had conducted her household. + +This conversation made a deep impression on the _fiancee_, for she had +great confidence in Mrs. Olsen's shrewdness and experience. Since Marie +had become engaged to the Sheriff's clerk, the Sheriff's wife had taken +a keen interest in her. She was an energetic woman, and, as her own +children were already grown up and married, she found a welcome outlet +for her activity in busying herself with the concerns of the young +couple. + +Marie's mother, on the other hand, was a very retiring woman. Her +husband, a subordinate government official, had died so early that her +pension extremely scanty. She came of a good family, and had learned +nothing in her girlhood except to Play the piano. This accomplishment +she had long ceased to practise, and in the course of time had become +exceedingly religious.----"Look here, now, my dear fellow, aren't you +thinking of getting married?" asked the Sheriff, in his genial way. + +"Oh yes," answered Soeren, with some hesitation, "when I can afford it. + +"Afford it!" the Sheriff repeated; "Why, you're by no means so badly +off. I know you have something laid by--" + +"A trifle," Soeren put in. + +"Well, so be it; but it shows, at any rate, that you have an idea of +economy, and that's as good as money in your pocket. You came out +high in your examination; and, with your family influence and other +advantages at headquarters, you needn't wait long before applying for +some minor appointment; and once in the way of promotion, you know, you +go ahead in spite of yourself." + +Soeren bit his pen and looked interested. + +"Let us assume," continued his principal, "that, thanks to your economy, +you can set up house without getting into any debt worth speaking +of. Then you'll have your salary clear, and whatever you can earn in +addition by extra work. It would be strange, indeed, if a man of your +ability could note find employment for his leisure time in a rising +commercial centre like ours." + +Soeren reflected all forenoon on what the Sheriff had said. He saw, more +and more clearly, that he had over-estimated the financial obstacles +to his marriage; and, after all, it was true that he had a good deal of +time on his hands out of office hours. + +He was engaged to dine with his principal; and his intended, too, was to +be there. On the whole, the young people perhaps met quite as often +at the Sheriff's as at Marie's home. For the peculiar knack which Mrs. +Moeller, Marie's mother, had acquired, of giving every conversation a +religious turn, was not particularly attractive to them. + +There was much talk at table of a lovely little house which Mrs. Olsen +had discovered; "A perfect nest for a newly married couple," as she +expressed herself. Soeren inquired, in passing, as to the financial +conditions, and thought them reasonable enough, if the place answered to +his hostess's description.--Mrs. Olsen's anxiety to see this marriage +hurried on was due in the first place, as above hinted, to her desire +for mere occupation, and, in the second place, to a vague longing for +some event, of whatever nature, to happen--a psychological phenomenon by +no means rare in energetic natures, living narrow and monotonous lives. + +The Sheriff worked in the same direction, partly in obedience to his +wife's orders, and partly because he thought that Soeren's marriage to +Marie, who owed so much to his family, would form another tie to bind +him to the office--for the Sheriff was pleased with his clerk. + +After dinner the young couple strolled about the garden. They conversed +in an odd, short-winded fashion, until at last Soeren, in a tone which +was meant to be careless, threw out the suggestion: "What should you say +to getting married this autumn?" + +Marie forgot to express surprise. The same thought had been running +in her own head; so she answered, looking to the ground: "Well, if you +think you can afford it, I can have no objection." + +"Suppose we reckon the thing out," said Soeren, and drew her towards the +summer-house. + +Half an hour afterwards they came out, arm-in-arm, into the sunshine. +They, too, seemed to radiate light--the glow of a spirited resolution, +formed after ripe thought and serious counting of the cost. + +Some people might, perhaps, allege that it would be rash to assume the +absolute correctness of a calculation merely from the fact that two +lovers have arrived at exactly the same total; especially when the +problem happens to bear upon the choice between renunciation and the +supremest bliss. + +In the course of the calculation Soeren had not been without misgivings. +He remembered how, in his student days, he had spoken largely of our +duty towards posterity; how he had philosophically demonstrated the +egoistic element in love, and propounded the ludicrous question whether +people had a right, in pure heedlessness as it were, to bring children +into the world. + +But time and practical life had, fortunately, cured him of all taste for +these idle and dangerous mental gymnastics. And, besides, he was far +too proper and well-bred to shock his innocent lady-love by taking into +account so indelicate a possibility as that of their having a large +family. Is it not one of the charms of young love that it should +leave such matters as these to heaven and the stork? [Note: The stork, +according to common nursery legends, brings babies under its wing.] + +There was great jubilation at the Sheriff's, and not there alone. Almost +the whole town was thrown into a sort of fever by the intelligence that +the Sheriff's clerk was to be married in the autumn. Those who were +sure of an invitation to the wedding were already looking forward to it; +those who could not hope to be invited fretted and said spiteful things; +while those whose case was doubtful were half crazy with suspense. And +all emotions have their value in a stagnant little town.--Mrs. Olsen +was a woman of courage; yet her heart beat as she set forth to call upon +Mrs. Moeller. It is no light matter to ask a mother to let her daughter +be married from your house. But she might have spared herself all +anxiety. + +For Mrs. Moeller shrank from every sort of exertion almost as much as +she shrank from sin in all its forms. Therefore she was much relieved +by Mrs. Olsen's proposition, introduced with a delicacy which did not +always characterize that lady's proceedings. However, it was not +Mrs. Moeller's way to make any show of pleasure or satisfaction. Since +everything, in one way or another, was a "cross" to be borne, she did +not fail, even in this case, to make it appear that her long-suffering +was proof against every trial. + +Mrs. Olsen returned home beaming. She would have been balked of half +her pleasure in this marriage if she had not been allowed to give the +wedding party; for wedding-parties were Mrs. Olsen's specialty. On such +occasions she put her economy aside, and the satisfaction she felt in +finding, an opening for all her energies made her positively amiable. +After all, the Sheriff's post was a good one, and the Olsens had always +had a little property besides, which, however, they never talked about. +--So the wedding came off, and a splendid wedding it was. Miss Ludvigsen +had written an unrhymed song about true love, which was sung at the +feast, and Louisa eclipsed all the other bridesmaids. + +The newly-married couple took up their quarters in the nest discovered +by Mrs. Olsen, and plunged into that half-conscious existence of festal +felicity which the English call the "honeymoon," because it is too +sweet; the Germans, "Flitterwochen," because its glory departs so +quickly; and we "the wheat-bread days" because we know that there is +coarser fare to follow. + +But in Soeren's cottage the wheat-bread days lasted long; and when heaven +sent them a little angel with golden locks, their happiness was as great +as we can by any means expect in this weary world. + +As for the incomings--well, they were fairly adequate, though Soeren +had, unfortunately, not succeeded in making a start without getting into +debt; but that would, no doubt, come right in time.--Yes, in time! +The years passed, and with each of them heaven sent Soeren a little +golden-locked angel. After six years of marriage they had exactly five +children. The quiet little town was unchanged, Soeren was still the +Sheriff's clerk, and the Sheriff's household was as of old; but Soeren +himself was scarcely to be recognized. + +They tell of sorrows and heavy blows of fate which can turn a man's hair +gray in a night. Such afflictions had not fallen to Soeren's lot. The +sorrows that had sprinkled his hair with gray, rounded his shoulders, +and made him old before his time, were of a lingering and vulgar type. +They were bread-sorrows. + +Bread-sorrows are to other sorrows as toothache to other disorders. +A simple pain can be conquered in open fight; a nervous fever, or any +other "regular" illness, goes through a normal development and comes +to a crisis. But while toothache has the long-drawn sameness of the +tape-worm, bread-sorrows envelop their victim like a grimy cloud: he +puts them on every morning with his threadbare clothes, and he seldom +sleeps so deeply as to forget them. + +It was in the long fight against encroaching poverty that Soeren had worn +himself out; and yet he was great at economy. + +But there are two sorts of economy: the active and the passive. Passive +economy thinks day and night of the way to save a half-penny; active +economy broods no less intently on the way to earn a dollar. The first +sort of economy, the passive, prevails among us; the active in the great +nations--chiefly in America. + +Soeren's strength lay in the passive direction. He devoted all his spare +time and some of his office-hours to thinking out schemes for saving and +retrenchment. But whether it was that the luck was against him, or, more +probably, that his income was really too small to support a wife and +five children--in any case, his financial position went from bad to +worse. + +Every place in life seems filled to the uttermost, and yet there are +people who make their way everywhere. Soeren did not belong to this +class. He sought in vain for the extra work on which he and Marie +had reckoned as a vague but ample source of income. Nor had his good +connections availed him aught. There are always plenty of people ready +to help young men of promise who can help themselves; but the needy +father of a family is never welcome. + +Soeren had been a man of many friends. It could not be said that they +had drawn back from him, but he seemed somehow to have disappeared +from their view. When they happened to meet, there was a certain +embarrassment on both sides. Soeren no longer cared for the things +that interested them, and they were bored when he held forth upon the +severity of his daily grind, and the expensiveness of living. + +And if, now and then, one of his old friends invited him to a +bachelor-party, he did as people are apt to do whose every-day fare is +extremely frugal: he ate and drank too much. The lively but well-bred +and circumspect Soeren declined into a sort of butt, who made rambling +speeches, and around whom the young whelps of the party would gather +after dinner to make sport for themselves. But what impressed his +friends most painfully of all, was his utter neglect of his personal +appearance. + +For he had once been extremely particular in his dress; in his student +days he had been called "the exquisite Soeren." And even after his +marriage he had for some time contrived to wear his modest attire with +a certain air. But after bitter necessity had forced him to keep every +garment in use an unnaturally long time, his vanity had at last given +way. And when once a man's sense of personal neatness is impaired, he is +apt to lose it utterly. When a new coat became absolutely necessary, it +was his wife that had to awaken him to the fact; and when his collars +became quite too ragged at the edges, he trimmed them with a pair of +scissors. + +He had other things to think about, poor fellow. But when people came +into the office, or when he was entering another person's house, he had +a purely mechanical habit of moistening his fingers at his lips, +and rubbing the lapels of his coat. This was the sole relic of "the +exquisite Soeren's" exquisiteness--like one of the rudimentary organs, +dwindled through lack of use, which zoologists find in certain +animals.-- + +Soeren's worst enemy, however, dwelt within him. In his youth he had +dabbled in philosophy, and this baneful passion for thinking would now +attack him from time to time, crushing all resistance, and, in the end, +turning everything topsy-turvy. + +It was when he thought about his children that this befell him. + +When he regarded these little creatures, who, as he could not conceal +from himself, became more and more neglected as time went on, he found +it impossible to place them under the category of golden-locked angels +had sent him by heaven. He had to admit that heaven does not send us +these gifts without a certain inducement on our side; and then Soeren +asked himself: "Had you any right to do this?" He thought of his own +life, which had begun under fortunate conditions. His family had been in +easy circumstances; his father, a government official, had given him the +best education to be had in the country; he had gone forth to the battle +of life fully equipped--and what had come of it all? + +And how could he equip his children for the fight into which he was +sending them? They had begun their life in need and penury, which had, +as far as possible, to be concealed; they had early learned the bitter +lesson of the disparity between inward expectations and demands and +outward circumstances; and from their slovenly home they would take with +them the most crushing inheritance, perhaps, under which a man can toil +through life; to wit, poverty with pretensions. + +Soeren tried to tell himself that heaven would take care of them. But he +was ashamed to do so, for he felt it was only a phrase of self-excuse, +designed to allay the qualms of conscience. + +These thoughts were his worst torment; but, truth to tell, they did not +often attack him, for Soeren had sunk into apathy. That was the Sheriff's +view of his case. "My clerk was quite a clever fellow in his time," he +used to say. "But, you know, his hasty marriage, his large family, and +all that--in short, he has almost done for himself." + +Badly dressed and badly fed, beset with debts and cares, he was worn out +and weary before he had accomplished anything. And life went its way, +and Soeren dragged himself along in its train. He seemed to be forgotten +by all save heaven, which, as aforesaid, sent him year by year a little +angel with locks of gold-- + +Soeren's young wife had clung faithfully to her husband through these six +years, and she, too, had reached the same point. + +The first year of her married life had glided away like a dream of +dizzy bliss. When she held up the little golden-locked angel for the +admiration of her lady friends, she was beautiful with the beauty of +perfect maternal happiness; and Miss Ludvigsen said: "Here is love in +its ideal form." + +But Mrs. Olsen's "nest" soon became too small; the family increased +while the income stood still. + +She was daily confronted by new claims, new cares, and new duties. Marie +set staunchly to work, for she was a courageous and sensible woman. + +It is not one of the so-called elevating employments to have charge of +a houseful of little children, with no means of satisfying even moderate +requirements in respect of comfort and well-being. In addition to this, +she was never thoroughly robust; she oscillated perpetually between +having just had, and being just about to have, a child. As she toiled +from morning to night, she lost her buoyancy of spirit, and her mind +became bitter. She sometimes asked herself: "What is the meaning of it +all?" + +She saw the eagerness of young girls to be married, and the air of +self-complacency with which young men offer to marry them; she thought +of her own experience, and felt as though she had been befooled. + +But it was not right of Marie to think thus, for she had been +excellently brought up. + +The view of life to which she had from the first been habituated, was +the only beautiful one, the only one that could enable her to preserve +her ideals intact. No unlovely and prosaic theory of existence had ever +cast its shadow over her development; she knew that love is the most +beautiful thing on earth, that it transcends reason and is consummated +in marriage; as to children, she had learned to blush when they were +mentioned. + +A strict watch had always been kept upon her reading. She had read many +earnest volumes on the duties of woman; she knew that her happiness lies +in being loved by a man, and that her mission is to be his wife. She +knew how evil-disposed people will often place obstacles between two +lovers, but she knew, too, that true love will at last emerge victorious +from the fight. When people met with disaster in the battle of life, it +was because they were false to the ideal. She had faith in the ideal, +although she did not know what it was. + +She knew and loved those poets whom she was allowed to read. Much of +their erotics she only half understood, but that made it all the more +lovely. She knew that marriage was a serious, a very serious thing, for +which a clergyman was indispensable; and she understood that marriages +are made in heaven, as engagements are made in the ballroom. But +when, in these youthful days, she pictured to herself this serious +institution, she seemed to be looking into an enchanted grove, with +Cupids weaving garlands, and storks bringing little golden-locked angels +under their wings; while before a little cabin in the background, which +yet was large enough to contain all the bliss in the world, sat the +ideal married couple, gazing into the depths of each other's eyes. + +No one had ever been so ill-bred as to say to her: "Excuse me, young +lady, would you not like to come with me to a different point of view, +and look at the matter from the other side? How if it should turn out to +be a mere set-scene of painted pasteboard?" + +Soeren's young wife had now had ample opportunities of studying the +set-scene from the other side. + +Mrs. Olsen had at first come about her early and late, and overwhelmed +her with advice and criticism. Both Soeren and his wife were many a time +heartily tired of her; but they owed the Olsens so much. + +Little by little, however, the old lady's zeal cooled down. When +the young people's house was no longer so clean, so orderly, and so +exemplary that she could plume herself upon her work, she gradually +withdrew; and when Soeren's wife once in a while came to ask her for +advice or assistance, the Sheriff's lady would mount her high horse, +until Marie ceased to trouble her. But if, in society, conversation +happened to fall upon the Sheriff's clerk, and any one expressed +compassion for his poor wife, with her many children and her miserable +income, Mrs. Olsen would not fail to put in her word with great +decision: "I can assure you it would be just the same if Marie had twice +as much to live on and no children at all. You see, she's--" and Mrs. +Olsen made a motion with her hands, as if she were squandering something +abroad, to right and left. + +Marie seldom went to parties, and if she did appear, in her at least +ten-times-altered marriage dress, it was generally to sit alone in a +corner, or to carry on a tedious conversation with a similarly situated +housewife about the dearness of the times and the unreasonableness of +servant-girls. + +And the young ladies who had gathered the gentlemen around them, either +in the middle of the room or wherever they found the most comfortable +chairs to stretch themselves in, whispered to each other: "How tiresome +it is that young married women can never talk about anything but +housekeeping and the nursery." + +In the early days, Marie had often had visits from her many +friends. They were enchanted with her charming house, and the little +golden-locked angel had positively to be protected from their greedy +admiration. But when one of them now chanced to stray in her direction, +it was quite a different affair. There was no longer any golden-locked +angel to be exhibited in a clean, embroidered frock with red ribbons. +The children, who were never presentable without warning, were huddled +hastily away--dropping their toys about the floor, forgetting to pick +up half-eaten pieces of bread-and-butter from the chairs, and leaving +behind them that peculiar atmosphere which one can, at most, endure in +one's own children. + +Day after day her life dragged on in ceaseless toil. Many a time, when +she heard her husband bemoaning the drudgery of his lot, she thought +to herself with a sort of defiance: "I wonder which of us two has the +harder work?" + +In one respect she was happier than her husband. Philosophy did not +enter into her dreams, and when she could steal a quiet moment for +reflection; her thoughts were very different from the cogitations of the +poor philosopher. + +She had no silver plate to polish, no jewelry to take out and deck +herself with. But, in the inmost recess of her heart, she treasured all +the memories of the first year of her marriage, that year of romantic +bliss; and these memories she would furbish and furbish afresh, till +they shone brighter with every year that passed. + +But when the weary and despondent housewife, in all secrecy, decked +herself out with these jewels of memory, they did not succeed in +shedding any brightness over her life in the present. She was scarcely +conscious of any connection between the golden-locked angel with the +red ribbons and the five-year-old boy who lay grubbing in the dark back +yard. These moments snatched her quite away from reality; they were like +opium dreams. + +Then some one would call for her from an adjoining room, or one of the +children would be brought in howling from the street, with a great bump +on its forehead. Hastily she would hide away her treasures, resume +her customary air of hopeless weariness, and plunge once more into her +labyrinth of duties and cares.--Thus had this marriage fared, and thus +did this couple toil onward. They both dragged at the same heavy load; +but did they drag in unison? It is sad, but it is true: when the +manger is empty, the horses bite each other.----There was a great +chocolate-party at the Misses Ludvigsen's--all maiden ladies. + +"For married women are so prosaic," said the elder Miss Ludvigsen. + +"Uh, yes!" cried Louisa. + +Every one was in the most vivacious humor, as is generally the case in +such company and on such an occasion; and, as the gossip went the round +of the town, it arrived in time at Soeren's door. All were agreed that it +was a most unhappy marriage, and a miserable home; some pitied, others +condemned. + +Then the elder Miss Ludvigsen, with a certain solemnity, expressed +herself as follows: "I can tell you what was at fault in that marriage, +for I know the circumstances thoroughly. Even before her marriage there +was something calculating, something almost prosaic in Marie's nature, +which is entirely foreign to true, ideal love. This fault has since +taken the upperhand, and is avenging itself cruelly upon both of them. +Of course their means are not great, but what could that matter to two +people who truly loved each other? for we know that happiness is not +dependent on wealth. Is it not precisely in the humble home that the +omnipotence of love is most beautifully made manifest?--And, besides, +who can call these two poor? Has not heaven richly blessed them with +healthy, sturdy children? These--these are their true wealth! And if +their hearts had been filled with true, ideal love, then--then--" + +Miss Ludvigsen came to a momentary standstill. + +"What then?" asked a courageous young lady. + +"Then," continued Miss Ludvigsen, loftily, "then we should certainly +have seen a very different lot in life assigned to them." + +The courageous young lady felt ashamed of herself. + +There was a pause, during which Miss Ludvigsen's words sank deep +into all hearts. They all felt that this was the truth; any doubt and +uneasiness that might perhaps have lurked here and there vanished away. +All were confirmed in their steadfast and beautiful faith in true, ideal +love; for they were all maiden ladies. + + + + +WITHERED LEAVES. + +You _may_ tire of looking at a single painting, but you _must_ tire +of looking at many. That is why the eyelids grow so heavy in the great +galleries, and the seats are as closely packed as an omnibus on Sunday. + +Happy he who has resolution enough to select from the great multitude a +small number of pictures, to which he can return every day. + +In this way you can appropriate--undetected by the custodians--a little +private gallery of your own, distributed through the great halls. +Everything which does not belong to this private collection sinks into +mere canvas and gilding, a decoration you glance at in passing, but +which does not fatigue the eye. + +It happens now and then that you discover a picture, hitherto +overlooked, which now, after thorough examination, is admitted as one of +the select few. The assortment thus steadily increases, and it is even +conceivable that by systematically following this method you might make +a whole picture-gallery, in this sense, your private property. + +But as a rule there is no time for that. You must rapidly take your +bearings, putting a cross in the catalogue against the pictures you +think of annexing, just as a forester marks his trees as he goes through +the wood. + +These private collections, as a matter of course, are of many different +kinds. One may often search them in vain for the great, recognized +masterpieces, while one may find a little, unconsidered picture in the +place of honor; and in order to understand the odd arrangement of many +of these small collections, one must take as one's cicerone the person +whose choice they represent. Here, now, is a picture from a private +gallery.-- + +There hung in a corner of the Salon of 1878 a picture by the English +painter Mr. Everton Sainsbury. It made no sensation whatever. It was +neither large enough nor small enough to arouse idle curiosity, nor was +there a trace of modern extravagance either in composition or in color. + +As people passed they gave it a sympathetic glance, for it made +a harmonious impression, and the subject was familiar and easily +understood. + +It represented two lovers who had slightly fallen out, and people smiled +as each in his own mind thought of those charming little quarrels which +are so vehement and so short, which arise from the most improbable and +most varied causes, but invariably end in a kiss. + +And yet this picture attracted to itself its own special public; you +could see that it was adopted into several private collections. + +As you made your way towards the well-known corner, you would often find +the place occupied by a solitary person standing lost in contemplation. +At different times, you would come upon all sorts of different people +thus absorbed; but they all had the same peculiar expression before that +picture, as if it cast a faded, yellowish reflection. + +If you approached, the gazer would probably move away; it seemed as +though only one person at a time could enjoy that work of art--as though +one must be entirely alone with it.-- + +In a corner of the garden, right against the high wall, stands an open +summer-house. It is quite simply built of green lattice-work, which +forms a large arch backed by the wall. The whole summer-house is covered +with a wild vine, which twines itself from the left side over the arched +roof, and droops its slender branches on the right. + +It is late autumn. The summer-house has already lost its thick roof of +foliage. Only the youngest and most delicate tendrils of the wild vine +have any leaves left. Before they fall, departing summer lavishes on +them all the color it has left; like light sprays of red and yellow +flowers, they hang yet a while to enrich the garden with autumn's +melancholy splendor. + +The fallen leaves are scattered all around, and right before the +summer-house the wind has with great diligence whirled the loveliest of +them together, into a neat little round cairn. + +The trees are already leafless, and on a naked branch sits the little +garden-warbler with its rust-brown breast--like a withered leaf left +hanging--and repeats untiringly a little fragment which it remembers of +its spring-song. + +The only thriving thing in the whole picture is the ivy; for ivy, like +sorrow, is fresh both summer and winter. + +It comes creeping along with its soft feelers, it thrusts itself into +the tiniest chinks, it forces its way through the minutest crannies; +and not until it has waxed wide and strong do we realize that it can no +longer be rooted up, but will inexorably strangle whatever it has laid +its clutches on. + +Ivy, however, is like well-bred sorrow; it cloaks its devastations +with fair and glossy leaves. Thus people wear a glossy mask of smiles, +feigning to be unaware of the ivy-clad ruins among which their lot is +cast.-- + +In the middle of the open summer-house sits a young girl on a rush +chair; both hands rest in her lap. She is sitting with bent head and a +strange expression in her beautiful face. It is not vexation or anger, +still less is it commonplace sulkiness, that utters itself in her +features; it is rather bitter and crushing disappointment. She looks as +if she were on the point of letting something slip away from her which +she has not the strength to hold fast--as if something were withering +between her hands. + +The man who is leaning with one hand upon her chair is beginning to +understand that the situation is graver than he thought. He has done +all he can to get the quarrel, so trivial in its origin, adjusted +and forgotten; he has talked reason, he has tried playfulness; he +has besought forgiveness, and humbled himself--perhaps more than he +intended--but all in vain. Nothing avails to arouse her out of the +listless mood into which she has sunk. + +Thus it is with an expression of anxiety that he bends down towards her: +"But you know that at heart we love each other so much." + +"Then why do we quarrel so easily, and why do we speak so bitterly and +unkindly to each other?" + +"Why, my dear! the whole thing was the merest trifle from the first." + +"That's just it! Do you remember what we said to each other? How we +vied with each other in trying to find the word we knew would be most +wounding? Oh, to think that we used our knowledge of each other's heart +to find out the tenderest points, where an unkind word could strike +home! And this we call love!" + +"My dear, don't take it so solemnly," he answered, trying a lighter +tone. "People may be ever so fond of each other, and yet disagree a +little at times; it can't be otherwise." + +"Yes, yes!" she cried, "there must be a love for which discord is +impossible, or else--or else I have been mistaken, and what we call love +is nothing but--" + +"Have no doubts of love!" he interrupted her, eagerly; and he depicted +in warm and eloquent words the feeling which ennobles humanity in +teaching us to bear with each other's weaknesses; which confers upon us +the highest bliss, since, in spite of all petty disagreements, it unites +us by the fairest ties. + +She had only half listened to him. Her eyes had wandered over the fading +garden, she had inhaled the heavy atmosphere of dying vegetation--and +she had been thinking of the spring-time, of hope, of that all-powerful +love which was now dying like an autumn flower. + +"Withered leaves," said she, quietly; and rising, she scattered with +her foot all the beautiful leaves which the wind had taken such pains to +heap together. + +She went up the avenue leading to the house; he followed close behind +her. He was silent, for he found not a word to say. A drowsy feeling of +uneasy languor came over him; he asked himself whether he could overtake +her, or whether she were a hundred miles away. + +She walked with her head bent, looking down at the flower-beds. There +stood the asters like torn paper flowers upon withered potato-shaws; the +dahlias hung their stupid, crinkled heads upon their broken stems, and +the hollyhocks showed small stunted buds at the top, and great wet, +rotting flowers clustering down their stalks. + +And disappointment and bitterness cut deep into the young heart. As the +flowers were dying, she was ripening for the winter of life. + +So they disappeared up the avenue. But the empty chair remained standing +in the half-withered summer-house, while the wind busied itself afresh +in piling up the leaves in a little cairn. + +And in the course of time we all come--each in his turn--to seat +ourselves on the empty chair in a corner of the garden and gaze on a +little cairn of withered leaves.-- + + + + +THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. + +Since it is not only entertaining in itself, but also consonant with use +and wont, to be in love; and since in our innocent and moral society, +one can so much the more safely indulge in these amatory diversions +as one runs no risk of being disturbed either by vigilant fathers or +pugnacious brothers; and, finally, since one can as easily get out of +as get into our peculiarly Norwegian form of betrothal--a half-way +house between marriage and free board in a good family--all these things +considered I say, it was not wonderful that Cousin Hans felt profoundly +unhappy. For he was not in the least in love. + +He had long lived in expectation of being seized by a kind of delirious +ecstasy, which, if experienced people are to be trusted, is the +infallible symptom of true love. But as nothing of the sort had +happened, although he was already in his second year at college, he said +to himself: "After all, love is a lottery if you want to win, you must +at least table your stake. 'Lend Fortune a helping hand,' as they say in +the lottery advertisements." + +He looked about him diligently, and closely observed his own heart. + +Like a fisher who sits with his line around his forefinger, watching for +the least jerk, and wondering when the bite will come, so Cousin Hans +held his breath whenever he saw a young lady, wondering whether he was +now to feel that peculiar jerk which is well known to be inseparable +from true love--that jerk which suddenly makes all the blood rush to the +heart, and then sends it just as suddenly up into the head, and makes +your face flush red to the very roots of your hair. + +But never a bite came. His hair had long ago flushed red to the roots, +for Cousin Hans's hair could not be called brown; but his face remained +as pale and as long as ever. + +The poor fisherman was growing quite weary, when he one day strolled +down to the esplanade. He seated himself on a bench and observed, with +a contemptuous air, a squad of soldiers engaged in the invigorating +exercise of standing on one leg in the full sunshine, and wriggling +their bodies so as to be roasted on both sides. + +"Nonsense!" [Note: The English word is used in the original] said Cousin +Hans, indignantly; "it's certainly too dear a joke for a little country +like ours to maintain acrobats of that sort. Didn't I see the other +day that this so-called army requires 1500 boxes of shoe-blacking, 600 +curry-combs, 3000 yards of gold-lace and 8640 brass buttons?--It would +be better if we saved what we spend in gold-lace and brass buttons, and +devoted our half-pence to popular enlightenment," said Cousin Hans. + +For he was infected by the modern ideas, which are unfortunately +beginning to make way among us, and which will infallibly end in +overthrowing the whole existing fabric of society. + +"Good-bye, then, for the present," said a lady's voice close behind him. + +"Good-bye for the present, my dear," answered a deep, masculine voice. + +Cousin Hans turned slowly, for it was a warm day. He discovered a +military-looking old man in a close-buttoned black coat, with an order +at his buttonhole, a neck-cloth twisted an incredible number of times +around his throat, a well-brushed hat, and light trousers. The gentleman +nodded to a young lady, who went off towards the town, and then +continued his walk along the ramparts. + +Weary of waiting as he was, Cousin Hans could not help following the +young girl with his eyes as she hastened away. She was small and trim, +and he observed with interest that she was one of the few women who do +not make a little inward turn with the left foot as they lift it from +the ground. + +This was a great merit in the young man's eyes; for Cousin Hans was one +of those sensitive, observant natures who are alone fitted really to +appreciate a woman at her full value. + +After a few steps the lady turned, no doubt in order to nod once again +to the old officer; but by the merest chance her eyes met those of +Cousin Hans. + +At last occurred what he had so long been expecting: he felt the bite! +His blood rushed about just in the proper way, he lost his breath, his +head became hot, a cold shiver ran down his back, and he grew moist +between the fingers. In short, all the symptoms supervened which, +according to the testimony of poets and experienced prose-writers, +betoken real, true, genuine love. + +There was, indeed, no time to be lost. He hastily snatched up his +gloves, his stick, and his student's cap, which he had laid upon the +bench, and set off after the lady across the esplanade and towards the +town. + +In the great, corrupt communities abroad this sort of thing is not +allowable. There the conditions of life are so impure that a well-bred +young man would never think of following a reputable woman. And the few +reputable women there are in those nations, would be much discomposed to +find themselves followed. + +But in our pure and moral atmosphere we can, fortunately, permit our +young people somewhat greater latitude, just on account of the strict +propriety of our habits. + +Cousin Hans, therefore, did not hesitate a moment in obeying the voice +of his heart; and the young lady, who soon observed what havoc she had +made with the glance designed for the old soldier, felt the situation +piquant and not unpleasing. + +The passers-by, who, of course, at once saw what was going on (be it +observed that this is one of the few scenes of life in which the leading +actors are quite unconscious of their audience), thought, for the most +part, that the comedy was amusing to witness. They looked round and +smiled to themselves; for they all knew that either it would lead +to nothing, in which case it was only the most innocent of youthful +amusements; or it would lead to an engagement, and an engagement is the +most delightful thing in the world. + +While they thus pursued their course at a fitting distance, now on the +same sidewalk and now on opposite sides of the street, Cousin Hans had +ample time for reflection. + +As to the fact of his being in love he was quite clear. The symptoms +were all there; he knew that he was in for it, in for real, true, +genuine, love; and he was happy in the knowledge. Yes, so happy was +Cousin Hans that he, who at other times was apt to stand upon his +rights, accepted with a quiet, complacent smile all the jostlings and +shoves, the smothered objurgations and other unpleasantnesses, which +inevitably befall any one who rushes hastily along a crowded street, +keeping his eyes fixed upon an object in front of him. + +No--the love was obvious, indubitable. That settled, he tried to +picture to himself the beloved one's, the heavenly creature's, mundane +circumstances. And there was no great difficulty in that; she had been +walking with her old father, had suddenly discovered that it was past +twelve o'clock, and had hastily said good-bye for the present, in order +to go home and see to the dinner. For she was doubtless domestic, this +sweet creature, and evidently motherless. + +The last conjecture was, perhaps, a result of the dread of +mothers-in-law inculcated by all reputable authors; but it was none the +less confident on that account. And now it only remained for Cousin Hans +to discover, in the first place, where she lived, in the second place +who she was, and in the third place how he could make her acquaintance. + +Where she lived he would soon learn, for was she not on her way home? +Who she was, he could easily find out from the neighbors. And as for +making her acquaintance--good heavens! is not a little difficulty an +indispensable part of a genuine romance? + +Just as the chase was at its height, the quarry disappeared into a +gate-way; and it was really high time, for, truth to tell, the hunter +was rather exhausted. + +He read with a certain relief the number, "34," over the gate, then went +a few steps farther on, in order to throw any possible observer off the +scent, and stopped beside a street-lamp to recover his breath. It was, +as aforesaid, a warm day; and this, combined with his violent emotion, +had thrown Hans into a strong perspiration. His toilet, too, had been +disarranged by the reckless eagerness with which he had hurled himself +into the chase. + +He could not help smiling at himself, as he stood and wiped his face and +neck, adjusted his necktie, and felt his collar, which had melted on the +sunny side. But it was a blissful smile, he was in that frame of mind +in which one sees, or at any rate apprehends, nothing of the external +world; and he said to himself, half aloud, "Love endures everything, +accepts everything." + +"And perspires freely," said a fat little gentleman whose white +waistcoat suddenly came within Cousin Hans's range of vision. + +"Oh, is that you, uncle?" he said, a little abashed. + +"Of course it is," answered Uncle Frederick. "I've left the shady side +of the street expressly to save you from being roasted. Come along with +me." + +Thereupon he tried to drag his nephew with him, but Hans resisted. "Do +you know who lives at No. 34, uncle?" + +"Not in the least; but do let us get into the shade," said Uncle +Frederick; for there were two things he could not endure: heat and +laughter--the first on account of his corpulence, and the second on +account of what he himself called "his apoplectic tendencies." + +"By-the-bye," he said, when they reached the cool side of the street, +and he had taken his nephew by the arm, "now that I think of it, I do +know, quite well, who lives in No. 34; it's old Captain Schrappe." + +"Do you know him?" asked Cousin Hans, anxiously. + +"Yes, a little, just as half the town knows him, from having seen him on +the esplanade, where he walks every day." + +"Yes, that was just where I saw him," said his nephew. "What an +interesting old gentleman he looks. I should like so much to have a talk +with him." + +"That wish you can easily gratify," answered Uncle Frederick. "You need +only place yourself anywhere on the ramparts and begin drawing lines in +the sand, then he'll come to you." + +"Come to you?" said Cousin Hans. + +"Yes, he'll come and talk to you. But you must be careful: he's +dangerous." + +"Eh?" said Cousin Hans. + +"He was once very nearly the end of me." + +"Ah!" said Cousin Hans. + +"Yes, with his talk, you understand." + +"Oh?" said Cousin Hans. + +"You see, he has two stories," continued Uncle Frederick, "the one, +about a sham fight in Sweden, is a good half-hour long. But the other, +the battle of Waterloo, generally lasts from an hour and a half to two +hours. I have heard it three times." And Uncle Frederick sighed deeply. + +"Are they so very tedious, then, these stories? asked Cousin Hans. + +"Oh, they're well enough for once in a way," answered his uncle, "and if +you should get into conversation with the captain, mark what I tell you: +If you get off with the short story, the Swedish one, you have nothing +to do but alternately to nod and shake your head. You'll soon pick up +the lay of the land." + +"The lay of the land?" said Cousin Hans. + +"Yes, you must know that he draws the whole manoeuvre for you in the +sand; but it's easy enough to understand if only you keep your eye on A +and B. There's only one point where you must be careful not to put your +foot in it." + +"Does he get impatient, then, if you don't understand?" asked Cousin +Hans. + +"No, quite the contrary; but if you show that you're not following, he +begins at the beginning again, you see! The crucial point in the sham +fight," continued his uncle, "is the movement made by the captain +himself, in spite of the general's orders, which equally embarrassed +both friends and foes. It was this stroke of genius, between ourselves, +which forced them to give him the Order of the Sword, to induce him to +retire. So when you come to this point, you must nod violently, and say: +'Of course--the only reasonable move--the key to the position.' Remember +that--the key." + +"The key," repeated Cousin Hans. + +"But," said his uncle, looking at him with anticipatory compassion, "if, +in your youthful love of adventure, you should bring on yourself the +long story, the one about Waterloo, you must either keep quite silent +or have all your wits about you. I once had to swallow the whole +description over again, only because, in my eagerness to show how +thoroughly I understood the situation, I happened to move Kellermann's +dragoons instead of Milhaud's cuirassiers!" + +"What do you mean by moving the dragoons, uncle?" asked Cousin Hans. + +"Oh, you'll understand well enough, if you come in for the long one. +But," added Uncle Frederick, in a solemn tone, "beware, I warn you, +beware of Bluecher!" + +"Bluecher?" said Cousin Hans. + +"I won't say anything more. But what makes you wish to know about this +old original? What on earth do you want with him." + +"Does he walk there every forenoon?" asked Hans. + +"Every forenoon, from eleven to one, and every afternoon, from five to +seven. But what interest--?" + +"Has he many children?" interrupted Hans. + +"Only one daughter; but what the deuce--?" + +"Good-bye, uncle! I must get home to my books." + +"Stop a bit! Aren't you going to Aunt Maren's this evening? She asked me +to invite you." + +"No, thanks, I haven't time," shouted Cousin Hans, who was already +several paces away. + +"There's to be a ladies' party--young ladies!" bawled Uncle Frederick; +for he did not know what had come over his nephew. + +But Hans shook his head with a peculiar energetic contempt, and +disappeared round the corner. + +"The deuce is in it," thought Uncle Frederick, "the boy is crazy, +or--oh, I have it!--he's in love! He was standing here, babbling about +love, when I found him--outside No. 34. And then his interest in old +Schrappe! Can he be in love with Miss Betty? Oh, no," thought Uncle +Frederick, shaking his head, as he, too, continued on his way, "I don't +believe he has sense enough for that." + + +II. + +Cousin Hans did not eat much dinner that day. People in love never eat +much, and, besides, he did not care for rissoles. + +At last five o'clock struck. He had already taken up his position on the +ramparts, whence he could survey the whole esplanade. Quite right: there +came the black frock-coat, the light trousers, and the well-brushed hat. + +Cousin Hans felt his heart palpitate a little. At first he attributed +this to a sense of shame in thus craftily setting a trap for the good +old captain. But he soon discovered that it was the sight of the beloved +one's father that set his blood in a ferment. Thus reassured, he began, +in accordance with Uncle Frederick's advice, to draw strokes and angles +in the sand, attentively fixing his eyes, from time to time, upon the +Castle of Akerhuus. + +The whole esplanade was quiet and deserted. Cousin Hans could hear the +captain's firm steps approaching; they came right up to him and stopped. +Hans did not look up; the captain advanced two more paces and coughed. +Hans drew a long and profoundly significant stroke with his stick, and +then the old fellow could contain himself no longer. + +"Aha, young gentleman," he said, in a friendly tone, taking off his hat, +"are you making a plan of our fortifications?" + +Cousin Hans assumed the look of one who is awakened from deep +contemplation, and, bowing politely, he answered with some +embarrassment: "No, it's only a sort of habit I have of trying to take +my bearings wherever I may be." + +"An excellent habit, a most excellent habit," the captain exclaimed with +warmth. + +"It strengthens the memory," Cousin Hans remarked, modestly. + +"Certainly, certainly, sir!" answered the captain, who was beginning to +be much pleased by this modest young man. + +"Especially in situations of any complexity," continued the modest young +man, rubbing out his strokes with his foot. + +"Just what I was going to say!" exclaimed the captain, delighted. "And, +as you may well believe, drawings and plans are especially indispensable +in military science. Look at a battle-field, for example." + +"Ah, battles are altogether too intricate for me," Cousin Hans +interrupted, with a smile of humility. + +"Don't say that, sir!" answered the kindly old man. "When once you have +a bird's-eye view of the ground and of the positions of the armies, even +a tolerably complicated battle can be made quite comprehensible.--This +sand, now, that we have before us here, could very well be made to give +us an idea, in miniature, of, for example, the battle of Waterloo." + +"I have come in for the long one," thought Cousin Hans, "but never mind! +[Note: In English in the original.] I love her." + +"Be so good as to take a seat on the bench here," continued the captain, +whose heart was rejoiced at the thought of so intelligent a hearer, "and +I shall try to give you in short outline a picture of that momentous and +remarkable battle--if it interests you?" + +"Many thanks, sir," answered Cousin Hans, "nothing could interest me +more. But I'm afraid you'll find it terribly hard work to make it clear +to a poor, ignorant civilian." + +"By no means; the whole thing is quite simple and easy, if only you +are first familiar with the lay of the land," the amiable old gentleman +assured him, as he took his seat at Hans's side, and cast an inquiring +glance around. + +While they were thus seated, Cousin Hans examined the captain more +closely, and he could not but admit that in spite of his sixty years, +Captain Schrappe was still a handsome man. He wore his short, iron-gray +mustaches a little turned up at the ends, which gave him a certain air +of youthfulness. On the whole, he bore a strong resemblance to King +Oscar the First on the old sixpenny-pieces. + +And as the captain rose and began his dissertation, Cousin Hans decided +in his own mind that he had every reason to be satisfied with his future +father-in-law's exterior. + +The captain took up a position in a corner of the ramparts, a few paces +from the bench, whence he could point all around him with a stick. +Cousin Hans followed what he said, closely, and took all possible +trouble to ingratiate himself with his future father-in-law. + +"We will suppose, then, that I am standing here at the farm of +Belle-Alliance, where the Emperor has his headquarters; and to the +north-fourteen miles from Waterloo--we have Brussels, that is to say, +just about at the corner of the gymnastic-school. + +"The road there along the rampart is the highway leading to Brussels, +and here," the captain rushed over the plain of Waterloo, "here in the +grass we have the Forest of Soignies. On the highway to Brussels, and +in front of the forest, the English are stationed--you must imagine the +northern part of the battle-field somewhat higher than it is here. On +Wellington's left wing, that is to say, to the eastward--here in the +grass--we have the Chateau of Hougoumont; that must be marked," said the +captain, looking about him. + +The serviceable Cousin Hans at once found a stick, which was fixed in +the ground at this important point. + +"Excellent!" cried the captain, who saw that he had found an interested +and imaginative listener. "You see it's from this side that we have to +expect the Prussians." + +Cousin Hans noticed that the captain picked up a stone and placed it in +the grass with an air of mystery. + +"Here at Hougoumont," the old man continued, "the battle began. It was +Jerome who made the first attack. He took the wood; but the chateau held +out, garrisoned by Wellington's best troops. + +"In the mean time Napoleon, here at Belle-Alliance, was on the point of +giving Marshal Ney orders to commence the main attack upon Wellington's +centre, when he observed a column of troops approaching from the east, +behind the bench, over there by tree." + +Cousin Hans looked round, and began to feel uneasy: could Bluecher be +here already? + +"Blue--Blue--" he murmured, tentatively. + +"It was Buelow," the captain fortunately went on, "who approached with +thirty thousand Prussians. Napoleon made his arrangements hastily to +meet this new enemy, never doubting that Grouchy, at any rate, was +following close on the Prussians' heels. + +"You see, the Emperor had on the previous day detached Marshal Grouchy +with the whole right wing of the army, about fifty thousand men, to +hold Bluecher and Buelow in check. But Grouchy--but of course all this is +familiar to you--" the captain broke off. + +Cousin Hans nodded reassuringly. + +"Ney, accordingly, began the attack with his usual intrepidity. But the +English cavalry hurled themselves upon the Frenchmen, broke their ranks, +and forced them back with the loss of two eagles and several cannons. +Milhaud rushes to the rescue with his cuirassiers, and the Emperor +himself, seeing the danger, puts spurs to his horse and gallops down the +incline of Belle-Alliance." + +Away rushed the captain, prancing like a horse, in his eagerness to show +how the Emperor rode through thick and thin, rallied Ney's troops, and +sent them forward to a fresh attack. + +Whether it was that there lurked a bit of the poet in Cousin Hans, or +that the captain's representation was really very vivid, or that--and +this is probably the true explanation--he was in love with the captain's +daughter, certain it is that Cousin Hans was quite carried away by the +situation. + +He no longer saw a queer old captain prancing sideways; he saw, through +the cloud of smoke, the Emperor himself on his white horse with the +black eyes, as we know it from the engravings. He tore away over hedge +and ditch, over meadow and garden, his staff with difficulty keeping +up with him. Cool and calm, he sat firmly in his saddle, with his +half-unbuttoned gray coat, his white breeches, and his little hat, +crosswise on his head. His face expressed neither weariness nor anxiety; +smooth and pale as marble, it gave to the whole figure in the simple +uniform on the white horse an exalted, almost a spectral, aspect. + +Thus he swept on his course, this sanguinary little monster, who in +three days had fought three battles. All hastened to clear the way for +him, flying peasants, troops in reserve or advancing--aye, even the +wounded and dying dragged themselves aside, and looked up at him with +a mixture of terror and admiration, as he tore past them like a cold +thunderbolt. + +Scarcely had he shown himself among the soldiers before they all fell +into order as though by magic, and a moment afterwards the undaunted Ney +could once more vault into the saddle to renew the attack. And this time +he bore down the English and established himself in the farm-house of La +Haie-Sainte. + +Napoleon is once more at Belle-Alliance. + +"And now here comes Buelow from the east--under the bench here, you +see--and the Emperor sends General Mouton to meet him. At half-past four +(the battle had begun at one o'clock) Wellington attempts to drive Ney +out of La Haie-Sainte. But Ney, who now saw that everything depended on +obtaining possession of the ground in front of the wood--the sand here +by the border of the grass," the captain threw his glove over to the +spot indicated, "Ney, you see, calls up the reserve brigade of Milhaud's +cuirassiers and hurls himself at the enemy. + +"Presently his men were seen upon the heights, and already the people +around the Emperor were shouting 'Victoire!' + +"'It is an hour too late,' answered Napoleon. + +"As he now saw that the Marshal in his new position was suffering much +from the enemy's fire, he determined to go to his assistance, and, at +the same time, to try to crush Wellington at one blow. He chose for +the execution of this plan, Kellermann's famous dragoons and the heavy +cavalry of the guard. Now comes one of the crucial moments of the fight; +you must come out here upon the battle-field!" + +Cousin Hans at once rose from the bench and took the position the +captain pointed out to him. + +"Now you are Wellington!" Cousin Hans drew himself up. "You are standing +there on the plain with the greater part of the English infantry. Here +comes the whole of the French cavalry rushing down upon you. Milhaud +has joined Kellermann; they form an illimitable multitude of horses, +breastplates, plumes and shining weapons. Surround yourself with a +square!" + +Cousin Hans stood for a moment bewildered; but presently he understood +the captain's meaning. He hastily drew a square of deep strokes around +him in the sand. + +"Right!" cried the captain, beaming, "Now the Frenchmen cut into the +square; the ranks break, but join again, the cavalry wheels away and +gathers for a fresh attack. Wellington has at every moment to surround +himself with a new square. + +"The French cavalry fight like lions: the proud memories of the +Emperor's campaigns fill them with that confidence of victory which made +his armies invincible. They fight for victory, for glory, for the French +eagles, and for the little cold man who, they know, stands on the height +behind them; whose eye follows every single man, who sees all, and +forgets nothing. + +"But to-day they have an enemy who is not easy to deal with. They +stand where they stand, these Englishmen, and if they are forced a step +backwards, they regain their position the next moment. They have no +eagles and no Emperor; when they fight they think neither of military +glory nor of revenge; but they think of home. The thought of never +seeing again the oak-trees of Old England is the most melancholy an +Englishman knows. Ah, no, there is one which is still worse: that of +coming home dishonored. And when they think that the proud fleet, which +they know is lying to the northward waiting for them, would deny them +the honor of a salute, and that Old England would not recognize her +sons--then they grip their muskets tighter, they forget their wounds and +their flowing blood; silent and grim, they clinch their teeth, and hold +their post, and die like men." + +Twenty times were the squares broken and reformed, and twelve thousand +brave Englishmen fell. Cousin Hans could understand how Wellington wept, +when he said, "Night or Bluecher!" + +The captain had in the mean time left Belle-Alliance, and was spying +around in the grass behind the bench, while he continued his exposition +which grew more and more vivid: "Wellington was now in reality beaten +and a total defeat was inevitable," cried the captain, in a sombre +voice, "when this fellow appeared on the scene!" And as he said this, he +kicked the stone which Cousin Hans had seen him concealing, so that it +rolled in upon the field of battle. + +"Now or never," thought Cousin Hans. + +"Bluecher!" he cried. + +"Exactly!" answered the captain, "it's the old werewolf Bluecher, who +comes marching upon the field with his Prussians." + +So Grouchy never came; there was Napoleon, deprived of his whole right +wing, and facing 150,000 men. But with never failing coolness he gives +his orders for a great change of front. + +But it was too late, and the odds were too vast. + +Wellington, who, by Bluecher's arrival, was enabled to bring his reserve +into play, now ordered his whole army to advance. And yet once more +the Allies were forced to pause for a moment by a furious charge led by +Ney--the lion of the day. + +"Do you see him there!" cried the captain, his eyes flashing. + +And Cousin Hans saw him, the romantic hero, Duke of Elchingen, Prince of +Moskwa, son of a cooper in Saarlouis, Marshal and Peer of France. He saw +him rush onward at the head of his battalions--five horses had been +shot under him with his sword in his hand, his uniform torn to shreds, +hatless, and with the blood streaming down his face. + +And the battalions rallied and swept ahead; they followed their Prince +of Moskwa, their savior at the Beresina, into the hopeless struggle +for the Emperor and for France. Little did they dream that, six months +later, the King of France would have their dear prince shot as a traitor +to his country in the gardens of the Luxembourg. + +There he rushed around, rallying and directing his troops, until there +was nothing more for the general to do; then he plied his sword like a +common soldier until all was over, and he was carried away in the rout. +For the French army fled. + +The Emperor threw himself into the throng; but the terrible hubbub +drowned his voice, and in the twilight no one knew the little man on the +white horse. + +Then he took his stand in a little square of his Old Guard, which still +held out upon the plain; he would fain have ended his life on his last +battlefield. But his generals flocked around him, and the old grenadiers +shouted: "Withdraw, Sire! Death will not have you." + +They did not know that it was because the _Emperor_ had forfeited his +right to die as a French soldier. They led him half-resisting from the +field; and, unknown in his own army, he rode away into the darkness of +the night, having lost everything. "So ended the battle of Waterloo," +said the captain, as he seated himself on the bench and arranged his +neck-cloth.--Cousin Hans thought with indignation of Uncle Frederick, +who had spoken of Captain Schrappe in such a tone of superiority. He +was, at least, a far more interesting personage than an old official +mill-horse like Uncle Frederick. + +Hans now went about and gathered up the gloves and other small objects +which the generals, in the heat of the fight, had scattered over the +battle-field to mark the positions; and, as he did so, he stumbled upon +old Bluecher. He picked him up and examined him carefully. + +He was a hard lump of granite, knubbly as sugar-candy, which almost +seemed to bear a personal resemblance to "Feldtmarschall Vorwaerts." Hans +turned to the captain with a polite bow. + +"Will you allow me, captain, to keep this stone. It will be the best +possible memento of this interesting and instructive conversation, for +which I am really most grateful to you." And thereupon he put Bluecher +into his coat-tail pocket. + +The captain assured him that it had been a real pleasure to him to +observe the interest with which his young friend had followed the +exposition. And this was nothing but the truth, for he was positively +enraptured with Cousin Hans. + +"Come and sit down now, young man. We deserve a little rest after a +ten-hours' battle," he added, smiling. + +Cousin Hans seated himself on the bench and felt his collar with some +anxiety. Before coming out, he had put on the most fascinating one his +wardrobe afforded. Fortunately, it had retained its stiffness; but he +felt the force of Wellington's words: "Night or Bluecher"--for it would +not have held out much longer. + +It was fortunate, too, that the warm afternoon sun had kept strollers +away from the esplanade. Otherwise a considerable audience would +probably have gathered around these two gentlemen, who went on +gesticulating with their arms, and now and then prancing around. + +They had had only one on-looker--the sentry who stands at the corner of +the gymnastic-school. + +His curiosity had enticed him much too far from his post, for he had +marched several leagues along the highway from Brussels to Waterloo. +The captain would certainly have called him to order long ago for this +dereliction of duty but for the fact that the inquisitive private had +been of great strategic importance. He represented, as he stood there, +the whole of Wellington's reserve; and now that the battle was over the +reserve retired in good order northward towards Brussels, and again took +up _le poste perdu_ at the corner of the gymnastic-school. + + +III. + +"Suppose you come home and have some supper with me," said the captain; +"my house is very quiet, but I think perhaps a young man of your +character may have no great objection to passing an evening in a quiet +family." + +Cousin Hans's heart leaped high with joy; he accepted the invitation in +the modest manner peculiar to him, and they were soon on the way to No. +34. + +How curiously fortune favored him to-day! Not many hours had passed +since he saw her for the first time; and now, in the character of a +special favorite of her father, he was hastening to pass the evening in +her company. + +The nearer they approached to No. 34, in the more life-like colors did +the enchanting vision of Miss Schrappe stand before his eyes; the +blonde hair curling over the forehead, the lithe figure, and then these +roguish, light-blue eyes! + +His heart beat so that he could scarcely speak, and as they mounted the +stair he had to take firm hold of the railing; his happiness made him +almost dizzy. + +In the parlor, a large corner-room, they found no one. The captain went +out to summon his daughter, and Hans heard him calling, "Betty!" + +Betty! What a lovely name, and how well it suited that lovely being! + +The happy lover was already thinking how delightful it would be when +he came home from his work at dinner-time, and could call out into the +kitchen: "Betty! is dinner ready?" + +At this moment the captain entered the room again with his daughter. She +came straight up to Cousin Hans, took his hand, and bade him welcome. + +But she added, "You must really excuse me deserting you again at once, +for I am in the middle of a dish of buttered eggs, and that's no joke, I +can tell you." + +Thereupon she disappeared again; the captain also withdrew to prepare +for the meal, and Cousin Hans was once more alone. + +The whole meeting had not lasted many seconds, and yet it seemed to +Cousin Hans that in these moments he had toppled from ledge to ledge, +many fathoms down, into a deep, black pit. He supported himself with +both hands against an old, high-backed easy-chair; he neither heard, +saw, nor thought; but half mechanically he repeated to himself: "It was +not she--it was not she!" + +No, it was not she. The lady whom he had just seen, and who must +consequently be Miss Schrappe, had not a trace of blonde hair curling +over her brow. On the contrary, she had dark hair, smoothed down to both +sides. Her eyes were not in the least roguish or light blue, but serious +and dark-gray--in short, she was as unlike the charmer as possible. + +After his first paralysis, Cousin Hans's blood began to boil; a violent +anguish seized him: he raged against the captain, against Miss Schrappe, +against Uncle Frederick and Wellington, and the whole world. + +He would smash the big mirror and all the furniture, and then jump +out of the corner window; or he would take his hat and stick, rush +down-stairs, leave the house, and never more set foot in it; or he would +at least remain no longer than was absolutely necessary. + +Little by little he became calmer, but a deep melancholy descended upon +him. He had felt the unspeakable agony of disappointment in his first +love, and when his eye fell on his own image in the mirror, he shook his +head compassionately. + +The captain now returned, well-brushed and spick and span. He opened a +conversation about the politics of the day. It was with difficulty that +Cousin Hans could even give short and commonplace answers; it seemed +as though all that had interested him in Captain Schrappe had entirely +evaporated. And now Hans remembered that on the way home from the +esplanade he had promised to give him the whole sham fight in Sweden +after supper. + +"Will you come, please; supper is ready," said Miss Betty, opening the +door into the dining-room, which was lighted with candles. + +Cousin Hans could not help eating, for he was hungry; but he looked down +at his plate and spoke little. + +Thus the conversation was at first confined for the most part to the +father and daughter. The captain, who thought that this bashful young +man was embarrassed by Miss Betty's presence, wanted to give him time to +collect himself. + +"How is it you haven't invited Miss Beck this evening, since she's +leaving town to-morrow," said the old man. "You two could have +entertained our guest with some duets." + +"I asked her to stay, when she was here this afternoon; but she was +engaged to a farewell party with some other people she knows." + +Cousin Hans pricked up his ears; could this be the lady of the morning +that they were speaking about? + +"I told you she came down to the esplanade to say good-bye to me," +continued the captain. "Poor girl! I'm really sorry for her." + +There could no longer be any doubt. + +"I beg your pardon--are you speaking of a lady with curly hair and large +blue eyes?" asked Cousin Hans. + +"Exactly," answered the captain, "do you know Miss Beck?" + +"No," answered Hans, "it only occurred to me that it might be a lady I +met down on the esplanade about twelve o'clock." + +"No doubt it was she" said the captain. "A pretty girl, isn't she?" + +"I thought her beautiful," answered Hans, with conviction. "Has she had +any trouble?--I thought I heard you say--" + +"Well, yes; you see she was engaged for some months"-- + +"Nine weeks," interrupted Miss Betty. + +"Indeed! was that all? At any rate her _fiance_ has just broken off the +engagement, and that's why she is going away for a little while--very +naturally--to some relations in the west-country, I think." + +So she had been engaged--only for nine weeks, indeed--but still, it was +a little disappointing. However, Cousin Hans understood human nature, +and he had seen enough of her that morning to know that her feelings +towards her recreant lover could not have been true love. So he said: + +"If it's the lady I saw to-day, she seemed to take the matter pretty +lightly." + +"That's just what I blame her for," answered Miss Betty. + +"Why so?" answered Cousin Hans, a little sharply; for, on the whole, he +did not like the way in which the young lady made her remarks. "Would +you have had her mope and pine away?" + +"No, not at all," answered Miss Schrappe; "but, in my opinion, it would +have shown more strength of character if she had felt more indignant at +her _fiance's_ conduct." + +"I should say, on the contrary, that it shows most admirable strength +of character that she should bear no ill-will and feel no anger; for +a woman's strength lies in forgiveness," said Cousin Hans, who grew +eloquent in defence of his lady-love. + +Miss Betty thought that if people in general would show more indignation +when an engagement was broken off, as so often happened, perhaps young +people would be more cautious in these matters. + +Cousin Hans, on the other hand, was of opinion that when a _fiance_ +discovered, or even suspected, that he had made a mistake, and that what +he had taken for love was not the real, true, and genuine article, he +was not only bound to break off the engagement with all possible speed, +but it was the positive duty of the other party, and of all friends +and acquaintances, to excuse and forgive him, and to say as little +as possible about the matter, in order that it might the sooner be +forgotten. + +Miss Betty answered hastily that she did not think it at all the right +thing that young people should enter into experimental engagements while +they keep a look out for true love. + +This remark greatly irritated Cousin Hans, but he had no time to reply, +for at that moment the captain rose from the table. + +There was something about Miss Schrappe that he really could not endure; +and he was so much absorbed in this thought that, for a time, he almost +forgot the melancholy intelligence that the beloved one--Miss Beck--was +leaving town to-morrow. + +He could not but admit that the captain's daughter was pretty, very +pretty; she seemed to be both domestic and sensible, and it was clear +that she devoted herself to her old father with touching tenderness. And +yet Cousin Hans said to himself: "Poor thing, who would want to marry +her?" + +For she was entirely devoid of that charming helplessness which is so +attractive in a young girl; when she spoke, it was with an almost odious +repose and decision. She never came in with any of those fascinating +half-finished sentences, such as "Oh, I don't know if you understand +me--there are so few people that understand me--I don't know how to +express what I mean; but I feel it so strongly." In short, there was +about Miss Schrappe nothing of that vagueness and mystery which is +woman's most exquisite charm. + +Furthermore, he had a suspicion that she was "learned." And everyone, +surely, must agree with Cousin Hans that if a woman is to fulfil her +mission in this life (that is to say, to be a man's wife) she ought +clearly to have no other acquirements than those her husband wishes her +to have, or himself confers upon her. Any other fund of knowledge must +always be a dowry of exceedingly doubtful value. + +Cousin Hans was in the most miserable of moods. It was only eight +o'clock, and he did not think it would do to take his departure before +half-past nine. The captain had already settled himself at the table, +prepared to begin the sham-fight. There was no chance of escape, and +Hans took a seat at his side. + +Opposite to him sat Miss Betty, with her sewing, and with a book in +front of her. He leaned forward and discovered that it was a German +novel of the modern school. + +It was precisely one of those works which Hans was wont to praise loudly +when he developed his advanced views, colored with a little dash of +free-thought. But to find this book here, in a lady's hands, and, what +was more, in German (Hans had read it in a translation), was in the last +degree unpleasing to him. + +Accordingly, when Miss Betty asked if he liked the novel, he answered +that it was one of the books which should only be read by men of ripened +judgment and established principles, and that it was not at all suited +for ladies. + +He saw that the girl flushed, and he felt that he had been rude. But +he was really feeling desperate, and, besides, there was something +positively irritating in this superior little person. + +He was intensely worried and bored; and, to fulfil the measure of his +suffering, the captain began to make Battalion B advance "under cover of +the night." + +Cousin Hans now watched the captain moving match-boxes, penknives, and +other small objects about the table. He nodded now and then, but he did +not pay the slightest attention. He thought of the lovely Miss Beck, +whom he was, perhaps, never to see again; and now and then he stole a +glance at Miss Schrappe, to whom he had been so rude. + +He gave a sudden start as the captain slapped him on the shoulder, with +the words, "And it was this point that I was to occupy. What do you +think of that?" + +Uncle Frederick's words flashed across Cousin Hans's mind, and, nodding +vehemently, he said: "Of course, the only thing to be done--the key to +the position?" + +The captain started back and became quite serious. But when he +saw Cousin Hans's disconcerted expression, his good-nature got the +upperhand, and he laughed and said: + +"No, my dear sir! there you're quite mistaken. However," he added, +with a quiet smile, "it's a mistake which you share with several of our +highest military authorities. No, now let me show you the key to the +position." + +And then he began to demonstrate at large that the point which he had +been ordered to occupy was quite without strategical importance; while, +on the other hand, the movement which he made on his own responsibility +placed the enemy in the direst embarrassment, and would have delayed the +advance of Corps B by several hours. + +Tired and dazed as Cousin Hans was, he could not help admiring the +judicious course adopted by the military authorities towards Captain +Schrappe, if, indeed, there was anything in Uncle Frederick's story +about the Order of the Sword. + +For if the captain's original manoeuvre was, strategically speaking, +a stroke of genius, it was undoubtedly right that he should receive a +decoration. But, on the other hand, it was no less clear that the man +who could suppose that in a sham-fight it was in the least desirable to +delay or embarass any one was quite out of place in an army like ours. +He ought to have known that the true object of the manoeuvres was to let +the opposing armies, with their baggage and commissariat wagons, meet at +a given time and in a given place, there to have a general picnic. + +While Hans was buried in these thoughts, the captain finished the +sham-fight. He was by no means so pleased with his listener as he +had been upon the esplanade; he seemed, somehow, to have become +absent-minded. + +It was now nine o'clock; but, as Cousin Hans had made up his mind that +he would hold out till half-past nine, he dragged through one of the +longest half-hours that had ever come within his experience. The captain +grew sleepy, Miss Betty gave short and dry answers; Hans had himself to +provide the conversation--weary, out of temper, unhappy and love-sick as +he was. + +At last the clock was close upon half-past nine; he rose, explaining +that he was accustomed to go early to bed, because he could read best +when he got up at six o'clock. + +"Well, well," said the captain, "do you call this going early to bed? I +assure you I always turn in at nine o'clock." + +Vexation on vexation! Hans said good-night hastily, and rushed +down-stairs. + +The captain accompanied him to the landing, candle in hand, and called +after him cordially, "Good-night--happy to see you again." + +"Thanks!" shouted Hans from below; but he vowed in his inmost soul +that he would never set foot in that house again.----When the old man +returned to the parlor, he found his daughter busy opening the windows. + +"What are you doing that for?" asked the captain. + +"I'm airing the room after him," answered Miss Betty. + +"Come, come, Betty, you are really too hard upon him. But I must admit +that the young gentleman did not improve upon closer acquaintance. I +don't understand young people nowadays." + +Thereupon the captain retired to his bedroom, after giving his daughter +the usual evening exhortation, "Now don't sit up too long." + +When she was left alone, Miss Betty put out the lamp, moved the flowers +away from the corner window, and seated herself on the window-sill with +her feet upon a chair. + +On clear moonlight evenings she could descry a little strip of the fiord +between two high houses. It was not much; but it was a glimpse of the +great highway that leads to the south, and to foreign lands. + +And her desires and longings flew away, following the same course which +has wearied the wings of so many a longing--down the narrow fiord to +the south, where the horizon is wide, where the heart expands, and the +thoughts grow great and daring. + +And Miss Betty sighed as she gazed at the little strip of the fiord +which she could see between the two high houses.--She gave no thought, +as she sat there, to Cousin Hans; but he thought of Miss Schrappe as he +passed with hasty steps up the street. + +Never had he met a young lady who was less to his taste. The fact that +he had been rude to her did not make him like her better. We are not +inclined to find those people amiable who have been the occasion of +misbehavior on our own part. It was a sort of comfort to him to repeat +to himself, "Who would want to marry her?" + +Then his thoughts wandered to the charmer who was to leave town +to-morrow. He realized his fate in all its bitterness, and he felt a +great longing to pour forth the sorrow of his soul to a friend who could +understand him. + +But it was not easy to find a sympathetic friend at that time of night. + +After all, Uncle Frederick was his confidant in many matters; he would +look him up. + +As he knew that Uncle Frederick was at Aunt Maren's, he betook himself +towards the Palace in order to meet him on his way back from Homan's +Town. He chose one of the narrow avenues on the right, which he knew to +be his uncle's favorite route; and a little way up the hill he seated +himself on a bench to wait. + +It must be unusually lively at Aunt Maren's to make Uncle Frederick stop +there until after ten. At last he seemed to discern a small white object +far up the avenue; it was Uncle Frederick's white waistcoat approaching. + +Hans rose from the bench and said very seriously, "Good-evening!" + +Uncle Frederick was not at all fond of meeting solitary men in dark +avenues; so it was a great relief to him to recognize his nephew. + +"Oh, is it only you, Hans old fellow?" he said, cordially. "What are you +lying in ambush here for?" + +"I was waiting for you," answered Hans, in a sombre tone of voice. + +"Indeed? Is there anything wrong with you? Are you ill?" + +"Don't ask me," answered Cousin Hans. + +This would at any other time have been enough to call forth a hail-storm +of questions from Uncle Frederick. + +But this evening he was so much taken up with his own experiences that +for the moment he put his nephew's affairs aside. + +"I can tell you, you were very foolish," he said, "not to go with me to +Aunt Maren's. We have had such a jolly evening, I'm sure you would have +enjoyed it. The fact is, it was a sort of farewell party in honor of a +young lady who's leaving town to-morrow." + +A horrible foreboding seized Cousin Hans. + +"What washer name?" he shrieked, gripping his uncle by the arm. + +"Ow!" cried his uncle, "Miss Beck." + +Then Hans collapsed upon the bench. + +But scarcely had he sunk down before he sprang up again, with a loud +cry, and drew out of his coat-tail pocket a knubbly little object, which +he hurled away far down the avenue. + +"What's the matter with the boy?" cried Uncle Frederick, "What was that +you threw away?" + +"Oh, it was that confounded Bluecher," answered Cousin Hans, almost in +tears.--Uncle Frederick scarcely found time to say, "Didn't I tell you +to beware of Bluecher?" when he burst into an alarming fit of laughter, +which lasted from the Palace Hill far along Upper Fort Street. + + + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Tales of Two Countries, by Alexander Kielland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES *** + +***** This file should be named 8663.txt or 8663.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/6/6/8663/ + +Produced by Nicole Apostola + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |