An Old Story of My Farming Days Volume Iii Part 7

Frida made no answer, bowed coldly to the confederates, and went into the house. Nothing makes a brave strong heart arm itself with cold dignity so much as discovering the pitiful meanness of its opponents.

The foot that was at first raised to crush the adder, is then drawn back, and pride, honour, and a good conscience unite in thrusting all that had roused its indignation and misery out of the heart; when that is done there is no more inward strife; peace has come instead; but it is the peace of the grave.

"There she goes looking as haughty as a princess!" said David.--"What a fool you are!" said Slus'uhr. "I'll never do business with such an idiot again."--"What's the matter now?" asked David. "Didn't we do the same when we went to dun that yeoman at Kanin, and didn't he give in soon?"--"Yes, but he was a peasant! Are you a baby that you don't know the difference between a n.o.ble and a peasant? We wanted to tire her out and make her ready to fall into our hands at once, and instead of that, we've only made her more obstinately prejudiced against us than before.

If we had treated him like that, he'd have said 'yes' to everything, but," he added more to himself than to David, "there are people--and truly--there are women even, who are only made the more firm and decided by misfortune."

When they arrived at Gurlitz and told their accomplice how Mrs. von Rambow had received them, Pomuchelskopp got into a great state of mind: "Bless me! How _could_ you!" he said to David. "Whoever heard of anyone coming plump out with a thing like that? You ought to have told her the truth in such a round about way that she'd have been made wretched and anxious, instead of telling her everything plainly at once. Hang it!

I'd got the affair into such good train, and now you'll see that she'll make him as obstinate as herself, and so the estate won't be sold till the term when Moses' money is due."--"And then of course you'll buy it," said Slus'uhr.--"No, no, it'll cost too much then, and yet it lies into my place so nicely!"--The worthy gentleman having made his moan, now proceeded to hold council with the two others, and they gave him very good advice as to how he should act so as to make sure of winning the game.

There was another meeting of council on the Gurlitz estate, and this time it was in the house of Ruhrdanz, the weaver. That morning a number of labourers and labourers' wives a.s.sembled in Ruhrdanz's kitchen where they talked neither pa.s.sionately nor foolhardily, but thoughtfully and with deliberation, but at the same time with dangerous determination.--"What do you say, brother?" asked one.--"Nay, what can be said, but that he must go, he's a monster in human form. Well, Ruhrdanz, and you?"--"You're right, I quite agree with you. But, lads, you'll see that they'll bring him back to us. If we could only get papers from the government forbidding his return ...."--"Bother you and your stupid papers," cried a tall masculine looking woman who was sitting near the stove. "When you come home from Rahnstadt in the evening with your heads full of brandy, you think you'll get everything your own way, but very soon your courage melts away like the starch out of a bit of linen when you put it in the wash tub. What, I've got to send my little girls through the country side begging for food! I can tell you this, I've had no bread in the house for the last three days that hasn't been given the children out of charity."--"Things have grown a little better lately," remarked old father Brinkmann.--"Yes,"

answered Willgans, "but from fear, not from good will. Let's go up to the house each armed with a stout cudgel, and teach him the will of G.o.d in this matter, then let's lead him quietly over to the other side of the Gurlitz boundary, go a good bit along the road with him, and then tell him to be off."--"What?" cried Mrs. Kapphingst, "do you intend to let off that demon of a woman, his wife, who nearly beat my daughter to death because of the chicken that the hawk carried off?"--"And the two eldest daughters," said a young woman, "who plagued us out of our lives when we worked at the manor house; those girls looked like angels of mercy when they were in the parlour talking to their guests, but outside amongst us they were perfect devils, and yet you'd allow them to remain here?"--"The whole set must go," said Willgans.--"No, friends, no," remonstrated old father Brinkmann, "don't hurt the innocent little children."--"Yes," said Ruhrdanz's old wife, who was sitting apart from the rest peeling potatoes, "you're quite right, Brinkmann, and Gustavus must stay too, I saw him taking a quarter of potatoes to old Mrs. Schult. In measuring out the potato and flax land, he always gave a little extra, and then Willgans, he gave your eldest boy one of his old jackets. He can't do all that he would, his father looks after him too sharply for that. No, don't lift your hands against Gustavus or the little ones."--"That's just what I say, mother,"

answered Ruhrdanz. "And now, friends," he continued, "I've got something to say to you. Do everything decently and in order. The others ar'n't here just now, let us meet again this evening and talk it over. Mr. Pomuchelskopp won't be at home; John Joseph has had orders to get ready the gla.s.s coach to take them to a ball in the town, so we can meet quite easily and talk it over."--"Yes," cried the tall masculine looking woman who was sitting near the stove, "talk, talk! You all muddle your heads with brandy while we are starving. If you don't free us from those people, we'll take the matter into our own hands, and do as other women in the country have done already, a thorn bush and a bed of nettles ar'n't far off."--She then left the cottage, and the rest of the conspirators separated immediately afterwards. "Bernard," said Mrs.

Ruhrdanz, "this may turn out an ugly business"--"That's just what I say, mother; but if we only do everything decently and in order the Grand Duke can't say anything against it. The only pity is that we have no papers to show for our actions, still, if he shows his papers, they'll see from them how the matter stands."

Ruhrdanz was right--I don't mean about the Grand Duke, for I don't understand such matters--but he was right in saying that Pomuchelskopp had ordered the gla.s.s coach to go to a ball, for towards evening the squire of Gurlitz might be seen seated in his carriage, dressed in his blue coat and bra.s.s b.u.t.tons. By his side was his brave old wife in her yellow-brown silk gown, which reminded one both in colour and its pointed tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of one of her own short-bread cakes, except that she was as dry and withered as a leather strap, and when she walked even on a level road, her joints rattled as much as if she had hidden a small bag of hazelnuts under her skirt. Exactly opposite were her two eldest daughters who were splendidly, very splendidly dressed, but who were also in a very bad humour because their father had insisted on their going to this ball, which was to be attended by tradesmen and their families; they had therefore determined to revenge themselves on their father by not amusing themselves, and by treating everyone as an inferior. Meanwhile they vented their wrath upon him by knocking the heavy hoops in their crinolines against his shins, and that was very cruel of them, for the wheelwright had made them new hoops that very morning of strong hazel wands.--Gustavus was seated on the box beside John Joseph the coachman.

I really cannot dance with my fair readers at another ball, I am too old for that sort of thing, and besides that Rudolph's marriage only took place three days before the fraternity ball, and I did my best on that occasion. It will be sufficient this time to peep into the ball room now and then and see how everything is going on. And now imagine me seated on the bench in front of Grammelin's house on that lovely summer evening, watching the people arrive, and going after a time into the house to have a gla.s.s of punch and thus show myself to be a friend and a brother.

There were a great many people at Grammelin's that evening. All the dignitaries in the town were there with their hats and caps and all their belongings; several landowners with Pomuchelskopp at their head; several n.o.blemen with their sons--their wives were unfortunately prevented from coming at the last moment by bad toothache or headache, and their daughters were from home--a number of tenant farmers and small landed gentlemen came, but of our friends there were very few to be seen. There was a party at Joseph Nussler's to accompany the bride and bridegroom to church, and Mrs. Behrens, Hawermann and Louisa had remained at Rexow, while rector Baldrian and Kurz with their wives and Brasig had returned to Rahnstadt after dinner in order to go to the ball. Kurz, however, had to give up all thought of going to it in the end, for he had grown so cross with Joseph's relations that his beloved wife found it necessary to send him to bed, which was not only a blessing for himself, but also for Mr. Sussmann, who could now lead the dances without fear of interruption. Mr. Sussmann had had a new pair of trousers made for the occasion, and had deluged his hair with pomade.--Little Anna went with her parents and Fred Triddelfitz, who had got himself up like a country gentleman of the first rank.--The little school-boy, who was in fear and trembling lest Brasig's niece should not come, seated himself at a rickety old piano and played and sang mournfully: "My happiness is dying, &c. &c.", and then to comfort himself: "I joy to see you little flies."--Mr. and Mrs. Baldrian arrived; then came Brasig with Schulz, the carpenter; and Slus'uhr and David arrived together. David had put on two more gold rings than usual; he held the rings in p.a.w.n and thought there was no harm in giving them an airing, and he amused himself with chewing cinnamon which was always his favourite spice and perfume.--Everyone had now arrived and dancing might begin, so David Berger struck up the Ma.r.s.eillaise--or Mamsellyaise as dyer "For my part" called it--and Mr.

Sussmann sang these words aloud to the music: "Allons, enfants de la partie!"

All went well at first; but there was very little brotherly feeling shown taking it as a whole. Still, it must be confessed that the young gentlemen of the town and the young gentlemen from the country joined in fraternizing with the pretty little daughters of the tradespeople, but that was nothing new, while the sisters of these same young gentlemen refused absolutely to dance with the tradesmen's sons.

The first disagreement between the two parties arose from the conduct of Mally Pomuchelskopp. The journeyman shoemaker and wit of the Reform-club, who was the son of a respectable tradesman in Rahnstadt, asked Mally to dance with him, and she refused, alleging that she was already engaged. She then sat waiting till Fred Triddelfitz, Mr.

Sussmann, or some other equally eligible partner should come and ask her to dance the next waltz with him. But as no one came she had to remain sitting.--The shoemaker saw this and began to laugh and joke about it, at last saying loud out, that if the young ladies would not dance with them, their daughters and sisters must not dance with the young gentlemen, adding that they had not come to the ball only to look on at the dancing. And now the storm broke on the heads of the innocent little burgher girls, who had been enjoying themselves so much. Their brothers and lovers came to them, and said: "You're not to dance with that apothecary fellow again, Sophie!" and, "You'd better look out, Dolly, or I'll tell mother!" and, "If you dance with that barrister again, Stina, I'll never speak to you any more!" This sort of thing was repeated throughout the room, and so of course it reached the ears of father Pomuchelskopp, who was not long in discovering the reason of the new tactics. He became very uneasy, and going to Mally explained to her what she had done. He said that the shoemaker was a person of great consequence, and was looked upon as worth any ten ordinary men in the Reform-club because of his sharp tongue, so she must soothe him down again. And in spite of all her repugnance, father Pomuchelskopp made her take his arm and walk down the room to where the shoemaker was standing. He then said that there must have been some great misunderstanding, for his daughter would only be too happy to dance with such a well known member of the Reform-club. And a few minutes later Mally and the shoemaker were whirling round the room together.

Father Pomuchelskopp had now--so to speak--sacrificed his first-born on the altar of fraternity, but without much effect, the two parties did not amalgamate well. Uncle Brasig did his best to bring people together, he rushed about in his brown coat, here, there and everywhere, for he was determined that brotherly kindness should prevail. He introduced Mr. von so and so to Mrs. Thiel, the cabinet-maker's wife; he forced himself to walk up and down the dancing-room arm in arm with his greatest enemy in the Reform-club, Wimmersdorf, the tailor, and in the presence of the whole company he gave the red-faced wife of John "For my part" a brotherly kiss on the cheek; but it was all of no use; what influence has one man on a number. "Mr. Schulz," he said at last, quite worn out with his labours, "if the supper doesn't bring them nearer each other, I don't know what to do, for the dancing seems to separate them more and more."

But the supper also failed to arouse a feeling of fraternity in the company. The gentlemen and ladies sat at one end of the table, and the tradespeople at the other. Champagne was drunk at the higher end of the table, and at the other end there was a horrible concoction which Grammelin had the impudence to call good red wine, and to sell at a shilling a bottle.--It is true that the shoemaker sat next Mally and her father, and that Pomuchelskopp took care to keep his gla.s.s continually full; it is true that the dyer, John "For my part" and his wife placed themselves between two country gentlemen, and that when they wanted to pay for what they had ordered, John put his hand in his pocket and drew out a handful of dyer's tickets instead of the paper money with which he thought he had filled it.--Brasig seated himself between two pretty little girls, tradesmen's daughters, and treated them with paternal kindness, feeling all the time that Mrs. Nussler would be angry with him for at least a week, for having gone to the ball instead of remaining with her at Rexow, and that parson G.o.dfrey would lecture him about worldliness. It was of no use his having come, he felt that bitterly. Grammelin's sour red wine looked badly beside the champagne, and the higher and lower cla.s.ses were even more separate at supper than in the ball-room.--"Mr. Schulz," said Brasig to his old friend, who was sitting opposite him, "now's the time to play our last trump, do you speak to Mr. Sussmann, and I'll tell Mr. Berger."--So Mr.

Schulz asked Mr. Sussmann whether he had the song-books ready.--"Yes,"

was the answer.--"Very well, deal them out, now's the time."--While Mr.

Sussmann distributed the books, Brasig went to David Berger, and asked: "Do you know that song of Schiller's, Mr. Berger: 'Sister with the linen kirtle. Brother with the order grand'?"--"Most certainly,"

replied David.--"Strike up then, the sooner the better."--And suddenly: "Happiness, that spark divine", resounded through the room, but with every line the voices grew fewer and fewer, so that at last my dear old uncle Brasig was the only one who still held up his book and sang, the tears rolling down his cheeks the while; but when he reached the line in which liars were denounced, he could go on no longer.--"Liars?"--Ah they were all liars, false to their convictions.--Everyone rose from table feeling rather uncomfortable, and Brasig crept away into a corner to hide his vexation. The young people began to dance again, and David and Slus'uhr retired to an anteroom where they drank champagne and laughed at uncle Brasig.

After a time Schulz the carpenter came to Brasig, and said: "Do you know, sir, that Attorney Slus'uhr and David are sitting with some other men in 'number 3' making game of you, and dragging in all sorts of political allusions. The attorney said just now that if the French found it difficult to get a king to rule over them, now that they've got rid of Louis Philippe, they couldn't do better than choose you, for you had nothing to do, and so had plenty of time to devote to the business of governing them."--"Did he really say that?" asked uncle Brasig rising indignantly. "Yes he did," replied Schulz. "And he is in 'number 3,' here at Grammelin's?"--"Yes."--"Come away with me, Mr.

Schulz."

Brasig was hurt and angry that the fraternity ball from which he had hoped so much for humanity had come to nothing. He felt like the patriarch Abraham when he was about to offer his darling son as a sacrifice. He was going to have slipped away home quietly, when he beheld a scapegoat on which he might pour forth his wrath, the very one he would have chosen next to his old enemy Pomuchelskopp. "Come away with me, Mr. Schulz," he said walking energetically across the room to the cloak room where he had left his hat and black thorn walking-stick.

He left the hat where it was, and picking up the stick, went to "number 3."

Several men were sitting over their wine in "number 3," laughing at some new witticism of their friend Mr. Slus'uhr. All at once there was dead silence in the room, for another man had joined them whose face scared away their merriment. Brasig looked with strange significance now at his black-thorn stick, and now at the attorney, and the men guessing what was likely to happen, drew their chairs back from the table rather hastily. "Which rascal was it who wanted to make me king of France?" cried Brasig, knocking some of the plaster off the wall, from the vehement way in which he flourished his stick: "I _won't_ be king of France!"--whack!--and the stick came down on the attorney's shoulders, who shrieked out: "Oh!"--"I _won't_ be king of France!" and again the stick did its duty. Brasig and his stick repeated the a.s.surance again and again that he would not be king of France, until candles, lamps and bottles lost their lives in this battle about the French throne, and David crept under the table to avoid the storm of blows. The attorney shouted for help; but no one stood by him, and only when the onslaught was over did David venture to put his head out from under the table and ask meekly: "Pardon me, Mr. Brasig, but pray tell me is this part of the ceremony of brotherhood?"--"Out! out!" cried Mr.

Schulz, dragging David from under the table. "Gentlemen!" exclaimed Slus'uhr, "I call you all to bear witness as to how I have just been treated."--"I didn't notice anything," said one. "And I wasn't looking," said another. "I was looking out of the window," said the third, although it was pitch dark. "Mr. Schulz," said Brasig, "you're my witness, and you'll remember how thoroughly I've thrashed Mr.

Attorney Slus'uhr." He then left the room, got his hat and went home.

The blows Slus'uhr got in "number 3," were distinctly heard in the dancing room, and did not tend to make matters better. The two n.o.blemen and their sons had left long before, and the few town dignitaries who still remained now slipped away as quietly as possible; little Anna listened unmoved to Fred Triddelfitz's entreaties that she would dance once more with him, and hastened to wrap herself up in her shawl and go with her parents. Pomuchelskopp also prepared to go as fast as he could, for he had an undefined but strong impression that, otherwise, something unpleasant might happen to him, he therefore entreated his wife and daughters to come away, saying it was high time to go home.

His family party was difficult to collect. Gustavus was dancing quite happily with Wimmersdorf's youngest daughter. Sally was listening attentively to what Mr. Sussmann was telling her, he said that he had only taken the low place he held in Kurz's shop for fun and added that as he could not remain where he was any longer, he was considering whether it would be better for him to accept one of the situations offered him in Hamburg, Lubeck and Stettin, or to set up for himself in Rostock where he had a rich old uncle, who advised him in every letter he wrote to set up in business for himself and marry, so that he, the old uncle, might wind up his affairs and go and live with him. Mally was sitting in a corner of the sofa crying over her ill-luck in having had to dance with a shoemaker. Henny looked like a stake that had been driven into its place, for in spite of all that had happened that evening, she had never moved once since she had seated herself on entering the room; the uncomfortable little episode with the journeyman shoemaker even, had failed to affect her serenity, and now when Muchel came and told her they must go, she answered affectionately: "Very well. Poking; but won't you invite your friend the shoemaker to come with us. You might also bring one of your t.i.tled acquaintances if you like, and then, if you add Ruhrdanz the weaver, Willgans and some of your other brethren of the Reform club the party will be complete."

So our poor friend Pomuchelskopp had to drive home with this conjugal shaft rankling in his large brotherly heart.

CHAPTER XIII.

Let no man be too certain of anything; above all, let him not paint the devil on the wall, for he often comes when no man calls, and seldom waits for an invitation; some of the guests Henny had proposed that her husband should invite were already awaiting the arrival of their host and hostess at Gurlitz manor. All the inhabitants of Gurlitz village a.s.sembled in the court-yard of the manor as the dawn began to break on that summer morning and stood at the door ready to receive their master. "Lads," said Ruhrdanz, "what must be, must be; but do everything decently and in order!"--"Bother you and your order!" cried Willgans. "Has he ever treated us so?"--"That doesn't matter," said Ruhrdanz, "we must act so as to have the right on our side. See how foolish you are. When we go to our Grand Duke, as we ought to do, and tell him all about it, he may ask: 'How did you set about it, Willgans?' and if you have to answer: 'Oh, your Highness, we first thrashed the man and his wife and then turned them out of the place,'

how do you think it would sound? And what tales do you think Mr.

Pomuchelskopp would have to tell against you."--"Yes," replied old father Brinckmann, "Ruhrdanz is right. If we content ourselves with turning them out of the place, we shall be quit of them, and needn't mind what anyone may say afterwards." It was settled that this should be done. Behind the men were the women and girls, and the tall masculine looking woman who had attended the meeting on the previous morning was standing amongst them. She said: "They've gone as far as they will. If they don't chase that man and his wife out of the place I'll thrash the fellow as long as he can stand."--"Yes, father," cried another woman, "we must get rid of them, we _must_ indeed! I went to the parsonage yesterday and Mrs. Baldrian gave me some food, and the parson begged me to be patient.--_Patient!_ Can starving folk be patient?"--"Joseph Smidt," said a tall slender young girl, "just run over to the Seeberg, will you, and look if they're coming. How our two young ladies will open their eyes, Sophie, when they find themselves sent off on such an unexpected journey!"--"Father," said Zorndt, a labourer, to Brinkmann, "oughtn't we to tell the parson what we're doing? Perhaps it might be well for us that he should know."--"No, father Zorndt, there's no need to tell him, he couldn't help us, and I don't think he would understand our motives. If our old parson were still alive it would be different!"--"They're coming now," cried Joseph Smidt running up. "Who'll speak?" asked Willgans, "I'll catch the leaders by the head."--"Ruhrdanz," was echoed from mouth to mouth.

"Well if you like, why shouldn't I do it?" answered Ruhrdanz--not another word was said.

John Joseph, the coachman, drove up and was about to turn into the yard, when Willgans caught the leaders by the head, made them stand a little side ways so as to stop the other two horses, and said: "Wait a moment, John Joseph." Pomuchelskopp looked out of the window of the gla.s.s coach, and seeing all the villagers standing about the carriage, asked: "What's the meaning of all this?" Ruhrdanz, followed by all the others, came close to the carriage door, and said: "Sir, we've determined that you shall no longer be our master, for you've never treated us as a master should treat his servants, and you were every bit as cruel to other people before you came here, for you've got an iron ring round your neck, and we won't have a master with a ring round his neck."--"You rascals! You scoundrels!" cried Pomuchelskopp, who had now discovered what the villagers meant. "So you would seize upon me and mine, would you?"--"No, that's not what we want," answered old father Brinkmann, "we're only going to see you safely out of the place."--"Drive on, John Joseph," cried Pomuchelskopp. "Slash at them with your whip."--"John Joseph," said Willgans, "if you move your whip, we'll knock you down. Now turn the carriage!--So--ho--That's right!"

The carriage and horses were now turned towards Rahnstadt. Sally and Mally screamed out with terror; Gustavus jumped down from the box and stood between the labourers and his father; everyone was in a great state of excitement, except Henny, who remained stiff straight and unbending as ever, without uttering a single word. "You band of robbers you! What do you want?" cried Pomuchelskopp. "We ar'n't robbers,"

answered Smidt, "none of us will steal even a pin from you, and Gustavus here may remain and manage the estate and tell us what we are to do."--"But your wife and two eldest daughters must go with you," interrupted Mrs. Kapphingst, "we can bear their tyranny no longer."--"Gently, friends, gently," said Ruhrdanz, "let us do everything decently and in order. It won't be enough to take them away over the Gurlitz march as we intended, we must hand them over to our chief magistrate, the mayor of Rahnstadt. I'm sure that that's the proper thing to do."--"Ruhrdanz is right," said the others, "and you may go home quietly Gustavus, no body will touch you. Now John Joseph, drive on slowly." Then some of the villagers went on one side of the carriage and some on the other, thus forming a guard. They went at a quick march like a regiment of soldiers. Pomuchelskopp had given way to the inevitable, but his misery was great. He wrung his hands and groaned: "Oh me! oh me! What shall I do? What shall I do?" and putting his head out at the window, he said: "I've always been a kind master to you all."--"You mean a cruel monster!" cried a voice out of the crowd.

Sally and Mally were crying bitterly, but Henny sat as stiff as a tin thermometer; if the labourers had known what a thermometer was, and that I had likened her to one they would have said that she was marking a point far above boiling. Willgans who had at first been near the door on her side of the carriage, drew back a little, because she once, without uttering a sound or bending forward, stretched out her hand and seizing his curly red hair nearly pulled out a handful, her eyes shining and glaring in the dusk of the early morning like those of a beagle when chasing a hare. "Mercy! I say look at her!" cried Willgans.

"Father Dusing! help!--Mercy! Look at the wretch! Do give her a knock over the knuckles." But before father Dusing could free him from her clutches, brave old Henny had thrust his nose down on the carriage door two or three times, so that the blood trickled down his face. "Mercy!

Help I say! This is not to be borne; wait a bit and I'll ...."--"Stop!"

cried Ruhrdanz, "you can't blame her, lad, for revenging herself according to the malice of her nature, so take no notice this time, but you can tell the Grand Duke all about it, and can show him your nose, which will bear witness to the way she has treated you." Henny said nothing, and the procession moved on again. When they reached the border of the estate the labourers sent their wives and children home, and about seven o'clock the prisoners and their guard entered Rahnstadt slowly and solemnly.

Uncle Brasig was stretched out on the window seat in his room smoking, and meditating on the heroic deeds he had done on the previous evening.--Kurz was in a very bad humour although he had not been at the fraternity ball, and was going about his shop grumbling and scolding: "The stupid a.s.s! The idiot! Wait till I catch him!" After a time he came, I mean Mr. Sussmann by "he." He danced over the threshold, and Kurz laying both hands on the counter looked as if he were preparing to jump over it and spring upon his a.s.sistant before he was well in the shop, but he thought better of it and waited. "Good morning, chief, chiefer, chiefest!" cried Mr. Sussmann, coming in with a clatter and rattle of everything in the shop that could make a noise, and seating himself on the edge of a herring barrel with his hat c.o.c.ked very much on one side, went on: "Good morning, Kurzie, woortsie, poortsie!"--Before he had time to make any more rhymes on his master's name, Kurz sprang upon him, pulled his hair with both hands, flung his hat into the herring barrel, and then dragged him further into the shop by the whiskers. Mr. Sussmann clutched blindly behind him for something to hold on by, and chanced to seize the spigot of a barrel of oil, his struggles were so great that the spigot came out, and the oil began to run out of the hole.--"Hang it!" cried Kurz. "My oil, my oil!" and letting Mr. Sussmann go, he stuck the forefinger of his right hand into the hole in the barrel, Mr. Sussmann who still had the spigot in his hand, waived it round his head in triumph, and as mad or intoxicated people are always fertile in expedients, he determined to clinch the matter and so pulled the spigot out of the vinegar barrel.

"Preserve us all! My vinegar!" cried Kurz, at the same time sticking the forefinger of his left hand into the hole in the vinegar barrel. In order to keep a finger in each of the barrels Kurz had to bend forward and to stretch out both arms to their utmost extent, and this Mr.

Sussmann deemed too good an opportunity to be lost. "My chiefie!--Kurzie!"--slap!--"Good-bye grocerie-pocerie!"--slap!

slap!--"Joanna goes, ne'er to come back again!"--slap, slap, slap!--Having done this, Mr. Sussmann picked his hat out of the herring barrel, set it on one side of his head, laid both the spigots on the counter about twenty feet away from Kurz, and then left the shop laughing and dancing.

"_Help!_" cried Kurz. "He-lp!--He--lp!" but not one of the servants was in the house, and his wife was out in the back garden planting asparagus. The only person who heard him was uncle Brasig. "Charles,"

he said, "I think I hear Kurz bellowing. I'll go and see if anything has happened."--"He-lp!" shouted Kurz.--"Bless me!" said Brasig.

"Whatever are you making such a noise for at seven o'clock in the morning?"--"Infamous rascal!" growled Kurz.--"What? Is that the way to treat me?" remonstrated Brasig.--"Meanspirited hound!"--"You're a rude barbarian!"--"Give me the spigots that are lying on the counter over there."--"You may get your nasty greasy spigots yourself, you a.s.s you!"--"I can't, or else all the oil and vinegar will run out of these casks, and I wasn't talking to you, I was speaking to Sussmann."--"Ah, then it doesn't matter," said Brasig, seating himself on the counter with a flop, and swinging his legs about, "what's the matter?"--Kurz explained how he had come to be imprisoned at the barrels.--"Well, Kurz, you're a joke, but take warning by what has happened, a man always suffers in the very things which he has used sinfully."--"I entreat ...."--"Hush, Kurz! You have always sinned in your sales of oil and vinegar, for you used to pour out of your measuring tins into your customer's basins with a swoop so as to leave two or three desert spoonfuls in the measure without anyone noticing it. Will you give good measure for the future, and will you never peep into the cards again when you're playing at Boston."--"Yes, yes," cried Kurz.--"Very well then, I'll set you free," said Brasig, bringing him the spigots.

Scarcely was Kurz free than he rushed out into the street as though he expected to find Mr. Sussmann waiting for him behind the door. Brasig followed him, and just as they reached the street Pomuchelskopp arrived on the scene escorted by his labourers.--"Preserve us! What's this?

Ruhrdanz, what's the meaning of all this?"--"Don't be angry, Mr.

Brasig, we've turned off our squire."--Brasig shook his head as he answered: "Then you've done a very foolish thing." He followed the procession and many people they met in the street did the same.

When they got to the mayor's house, the labourers unharnessed the horses, while Ruhrdanz, Willgans, Brinkmann and several others went into the house.--"Well, Sir," said Ruhrdanz, "we've brought him here."--"Who?"--"Oh, our Mr. Pomuchelskopp."--"Why, what do you mean?"--"Oh, nothing, except that we won't have him to rule over us any longer."--"Good Heavens! What have you been about?"--"We've done everything legally, your worship."--"Have you laid violent hands on him?"--"No, we didn't touch him, but as for his wife, she seized father Willgans by the ...."--But the mayor had left the room, and was already at the carriage door asking the Pomuchelskopps to come in. They accepted his invitation and the mayor took them into the drawing-room.--"Why have we been treated so badly? Why have we been treated so badly?" whimpered Pomuchelskopp. "Oh, Mr. Mayor, you know that I've always been a good master to my people."--"For shame, Kopp,"

interposed Henny.--"No," said the mayor without attending to Henny and looking Pomuchelskopp full in the face, "you have _not_ been a good master. You know that I have often been obliged to remonstrate with you about your conduct, you know that I refused to have anything to do with your law affairs because of the injustice of your cause. I'll have nothing to do with this except as a private individual, and what I do will be for the sake of those poor mistaken peasants. Pray, excuse me ...."--"Oh, please advise me. What shall I do?"--"You can't go back to Gurlitz for a short time; if you did it would only rouse the people to violence, so you'd better wait here in Rahnstadt till you see your way clear. Excuse my leaving you for a few minutes, I am going to speak to the labourers."

What good could talking do? The people had made up their minds, and the bad characters amongst them had been obliged to consent to let their quieter, honester neighbours have their own way, and they were so sure their way was the right one that they refused to give it up.--"No, Sir," said Ruhrdanz, "we can't take him back whatever happens."--"You have been guilty of a great crime this morning, and it'll go hard with you if you stick to it."--"That may be; but if you speak of crime, Mr. Pomuchelskopp has treated us much worse than we've treated him."--"You've allowed your heads to be stuffed with nonsense by some foolish people in the Reform-club."--"Don't be angry, your worship, people say that of us, but it isn't true. Why? Mr. Pomuchelskopp himself is a member of the Reform-club, and he made a speech too, but he told a string of lies in his speech, no one knows that better than we do."--"But what do you intend to do?"--"Mr. Gustavus is at Gurlitz and when he tells us to do this or that, we'll obey him; but Willgans and I want to go to the Grand Duke and tell him all about it, so we would like you to give us the proper papers."--"What sort of papers?"--"Ah, your worship, don't be angry with me, it doesn't matter what they are. You see I was once sent to the old station without papers--and of course they turned me out--our Grand Duke isn't a station, and he'd never be so rude, so if we go without papers you can show him your nose, father Willgans, and tell him how that woman treated you, and I'll show my honest hands that have never taken what didn't belong to them."--The old man then left the room, and joined the other labourers outside. They all felt their pockets and drew out what pence and halfpence they possessed. They gave them to Ruhrdanz and said: "Now go! go straight to Schwerin!" and: "Don't forget to tell about Kapphingst's daughter!" and: "If he asks you how we have lived, tell him honestly that we never stole from our master, but that we sometimes took a few of Mrs. Nussler's potatoes, and she never blamed us."

The two labourers then set out for Schwerin, and the other villagers returned home, while John Joseph drove the empty carriage after them.

The crowd that had collected round the mayor's door to see what was to be seen, for the news of Pomuchelskopp's arrest had spread like wild-fire, now separated, and uncle Brasig said to Hawermann as soon as he got back: "Well, Charles, he hasn't escaped his judge. I joined the crowd for a little, not for his sake, but because of those poor ignorant labourers. As soon as I saw him safe in the mayor's house I came away for I didn't care to see his humiliation."

Pomuchelskopp, his wife and daughters took up their abode at Grammelin's and the former, when he saw his family settled down, went to Slus'uhr's bedroom and bemoaned his hard fate. Slus'uhr had been obliged to remain at Grammelin's in consequence of the thrashing he had had on the previous evening, as otherwise he could not have made out such a good case of a.s.sault against Brasig. "I have sent for the doctor and am going to make him examine me that I may have a better case against Mr. Brasig. Strump isn't at home, but the other doctor will be here very soon."--"How lucky you are!" said Muchel. "Well," answered the attorney, twisting round on his other side, "I didn't quite look upon it in that light. I don't see any great piece of luck in getting a sound thrashing with a black thorn stick at least an inch in thickness."--"You can have your revenge, while I--wretched man that I am, can do nothing."--"You should send for a guard of soldiers and that'll frighten your fellows out of their lives, and if you don't like to go home at once, send your wife on before, she'll have everything in order by the time you're ready to follow, I'll answer for that."--"Mercy, what do you propose? No, no! I've had enough of it.

Pumpelhagen has escaped me, and I'll never go back to Gurlitz; they'll set fire to the house when I'm in it, I know they will. No, no! I'll sell, I'll sell!"--"Have you heard the news," asked David coming into the room, and hearing the last words he added, "yes, you're right. If you sell the place I'll manage everything for you, I know ...."--"Infamous Jewish rascal!" groaned Slus'uhr, getting into a new position, "Ugh! mercy!--Don't you think we can manage it between us? Yes, Mr. Pomuchelskopp, you must sell, for even if they spare the dwelling house, they're sure to burn the stacks and barns, for you've got into a regular sc.r.a.pe."--"Now, Mr. Slus'uhr," said David, "you've made a little money I know, and you can conduct the sale of a farm, or a mill; but this is a large estate, and my father must manage the arrangements for Mr. Pomuchelskopp."--"Your father! When he hears that it's for Pomuchelskopp, he'll refuse to act. We three are in very bad odour with him."--"If I tell him," began David, but at this moment the doctor came in, and he was Anna's father. "Good morning, you sent for me," he said turning to Slus'uhr, "what can I do for you?"--"Ah doctor, you were at the ball yesterday too. Oh I'm in such pain! You must have heard ...."--"He has had a good thrashing," said David, "and I was a witness. He was very severely beaten."--"Hold your confounded tongue,"

shouted Slus'uhr. "Doctor, I want you to examine me carefully, I'm afraid that I shall never regain the use of my limbs." The doctor made no reply, but went to his patient, and pulling his shirt off his back, saw some very distinct lines scored in red, such as are not to be seen on every human back. Pomuchelskopp sat still, and folded his hands in deep commiseration, but a flash of pleasure lighted up his face when he saw the red weals. David sprang to his feet: "Merciful Jehovah! What a sight!" he exclaimed. "You must examine me too, doctor, for Schulz the carpenter dragged me out from under the table and tore my new coat right down the middle."--"You'd better send for the tailor then,"

answered the doctor quietly, and turning again to the attorney, he said: "I'll go down to Grammelin's coffee-room and write you a certificate. Good morning, gentlemen." He then left the room, and soon afterwards the housemaid brought in a paper, which she said the doctor had desired her to take to Mr. Slus'uhr. The attorney opened it and read:

"This is to certify, that Mr. attorney Slus'uhr has had a thorough good thrashing as the marks on his back show beyond dispute, but it has done him no real harm.

N. N. M. D."

"Does the fellow write that about me?" stormed the attorney, "'it has done me no harm' for sooth!--Just wait and I'll have something to say to you elsewhere!"--"But," cried David, "surely it's much better that the beating shouldn't have done you harm, than that you should have been maimed."--"You're an idiot! What's the good of lying here any longer though?" said Slus'uhr. "Pardon me, but I must get up, and repay Mr. Brasig for his blows by sending him--a letter demanding damages."--"Don't forget, my friend, that you've to write to Pumpelhagen for me to day," said Pomuchelskopp. "Trust me to remember.