Black Forest Village Stories Part 38

"Come," said Florian, again; "I'll carry it for you."

"For pity's sake, don't make me stop here, Florian, when all the people are looking at us. You see I can't help myself now, and can't run away, but I'll never speak a word to you again as long as I live if you don't go away. Come to Melchior's Lenore to-night before curfew, and I'll tell you every thing."

"Shake hands, won't you?"

Laying her left arm across the rake, Crescence took his hand, saying, "Good-bye till to-night."

All at once, in resuming her steps, Crescence perceived what a heavy load she had to carry: she groaned as if Firnut Pete had clambered on her shoulders in broad daylight. Having reached the crucifix, she deposited the burden on the high stone erected there for that purpose.

This silent a.s.sistant is always found beside the symbol of faith. At the feet of Him who laid the heaviest burden on himself to make men free and brotherly, men take off a while the load of the day, to gather strength for further toil.

Crescence looked intently at the crucifix, but without thinking of what she did; for her mind was occupied with dread of Florian's following her. She determined not to turn round to look at him, and did turn, nevertheless; while a glow of pleasure lighted her face as she saw the brisk young fellow striding across the field.

All that day Crescence was serious and taciturn. Before dark, she took a collar, to get Walpurgia to wash it, as she said; but, instead of going to Walpurgia, she hurried to Lenore's house. The latter came to meet her, saying,--

"Go through the barn: you'll find him in the garden."

"Come with me," said Crescence.

"I'm coming directly: just you go first."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Crescence saw Florian sitting on a log.]

As she entered the garden, Crescence saw Florian sitting on a log, stooping greatly, and digging into the wood with a knife which looked somewhat like a stiletto. His long chestnut hair nearly covered his forehead.

"Florian, what are you doing?" asked Crescence.

He threw the knife aside, shook his hair out of his face threw his arms around Crescence, and kissed her. She offered no resistance, but at length said,--

"There! that's enough now: you are just the same you always were."

"Yes; but you're not what you used to be."

"Not a bit changed. You are cross because I go with the geometer, a'n't you? Well, you know you and I could never have got married. My folks won't let me go to service; and stay with them I don't want to, either, until my hair turns gray."

"If that's the way, and you like the geometer, I've nothing more to say: you might have told me that this morning. I remember a time when the king might have come,--and he owns the whole country, which is more than helping to measure it,--and you'd have said, 'No, thank you: I like my Florian better, even if he have nothing but the clothes on his back.'"

"Why, how you talk! What's the use of all that when we never can get married?"

"Oh, yes: there's the Red Tailor's daughter all over. If I'd only never cast eyes on you again! If I'd only broken both my legs before they ever carried me back home!"

"Oh, don't be so solemn, now! You'll look kindly at me yet, and laugh with me a little when you meet me, won't you?"

She gave him a look of playful tenderness, and smiled,--though she was more disposed to weep. Florian, picking up his knife and putting it in his pocket, made a move to go, when Crescence seized his hand and said,--

"Don't be angry with me, Florian: talk to me, dear. Don't you see? I haven't married the geometer yet, but cut him I can't now: my folks would throttle me in my sleep if I was to turn him off. Nothing can come of it for two or three years, anyhow; and who knows what may happen in that time? Perhaps I shall die. I wish I would, I'm sure."

Her voice was choked.

Florian's manner suddenly changed. The languor so unusual in him was gone: their eyes met, and held each other beaming with joy.

"You see," he began, "as I sat there waiting, I felt as if somebody had broken all my bones. I was thinking how unlucky we are, and again and again I was tempted to stab myself with this knife. If some one had come under my hands, I don't know---- And I don't want to go away, either; and I must stay here; and I must have you."

"Yes; I wish you had; but we can't live on the old Emperor's exchequer.

I know somebody who could help us, and _I_ could make him."

"Never tell me about him: he's nothing to you, and shall be nothing. I won't have it: you are your father's child, and if anybody says any thing else I'll stick him like an eight-day calf. My father has half emptied my pockets already, but I've got some money yet: I mean to stay here a while and work under my father's right as a master-butcher. I want to show these Nordstetters what Florian can do: they shall have respect for me, they shall."

"You're a fine fellow," said Crescence. "Haven't you brought me any thing?"

"Yes, I have. Here."

Taking from his pocket a broad ring of silver, and a flaming heart in colors, with a motto in it, he handed them to Crescence.

After the first expressions of delight, she offered to read the motto; but Florian stopped her, saying, "You can do that after I am gone: now let's have a talk."

"Yes; tell me something. Is it true that you are courting your master's daughter in Strasbourg?"

"Not a bit of it. If I was, I wouldn't stay here; and stay I shall. All the Nordstetters must say that the like of Florian's not to be seen anywhere."

They remained long together. When Crescence returned home, she found the geometer waiting for her, and was forced to receive him with smiles. With a heavy heart she reached her chamber at last, and read the motto on the flaming heart:--

"Better build my grave of stone Than love and call you not my own."

Weeping, she laid the picture into her hymn-book. It was the old story of what occurs in thousands of instances, in town and country, though often the colors are more blended and the contrasts not so harsh.

Crescence loved Florian, and yet could not renounce the hope of a good establishment, such as she might expect to receive at the hands of the geometer: love drew her in one direction, interest in another. It would be strange if such discords did not lead to misery.

5.

FLORIAN DROPS A b.u.t.tON OR TWO.

Florian remained in the village, and slaughtered first one heifer and then another. Though at first things looked prosperous, the run of good luck soon came to an end. The old butcher went around hawking out the meat which had not been sold at the shambles; but he generally spent not only the profit, but the cost besides. The compet.i.tion of the Jewish butchers was not to be overcome even by Florian's superior skill; for the Jews can undersell Christians in the hindquarters of beef, because an opportune provision of the Bible forbids them to eat any thing but the fore-quarters. Moreover, it is almost impossible in a German village to support a household on mechanical labor alone, without some resort to agriculture. Florian had no opportunity, and still less inclination, to till the soil. He preferred to go into partnership with a Jewish butcher for a time; but this was also of short duration.

His next resource was to a.s.sist the Strasbourg butchers in purchasing oxen. This helped him to some good commissions, and enabled him to make his father the happiest of men. The old gentleman was restored to his favorite occupation of guessing at the weight of oxen. It quite made him young again. Florian was the leading young man in the village.

Unfortunately, he made the squire his enemy. The latter, wishing to sell his oxen to some dealers pa.s.sing through the village, invited Florian to come to his house. "They weigh fourteen hundred, and over,"

he a.s.severated. "What they weigh over eleven," said Florian, "I'll eat raw." This was foolish; for from that day the squire hated him cordially.

Florian cared but little for this, however: he played the fine gentleman every Sunday, played longest at ninepins, and was a fast man generally.

It is strange how soon the glory of the stranger in a village is consumed. The honor acquired merely by presenting an unusual appearance ceases the moment all eyes have become accustomed to it: the rainbow would be forgotten if it were always in the sky. Thus, Florian soon sunk into oblivion; and it required a special occurrence to attract attention to him again.

One evening he was standing, with his comrades, near the Eagle, while the squire sat on a bench before the house, talking to the geometer.

Florian perceived that they were looking at him: he saw the squire pa.s.s his hand over his upper lip, while the geometer laughed immoderately and said something which sounded like "Samson." Florian did not understand what it all meant; but he was soon to have an explanation.

He received a summons next day to appear before the squire, who, as our renders may remember, had formerly been a non-commissioned officer. He now ordered Florian to "take the hair off his mouth," because he had never been a soldier, and none but soldiers were allowed to wear mustaches. Florian laughed at the squire, who took it in dudgeon; Florian answered his vituperations, and was marched off to prison.

It is a dangerous thing to arrest a man who is innocent of crime: it palls his feeling and his sense of moral responsibility for those occasions in which these qualities are particularly tried.