Joseph in the Snow, and The Clockmaker Volume III Part 8

"If any one would have me."

"You wish to drive me mad."

"I need not do much for that."

"Oh! Annele, what will be the end of all this?"

"G.o.d knows!"

"Annele! was there not a time when we loved each other dearly?"

"Yes; I suppose we once did."

"And cannot it be so again?"

"I don't know."

"Why do you give me such answers?"

"Because you ask me such questions."

Lenz hid his face with his hands, and sat thus half the night; he tried to reflect on his position, and why, in addition to the wreck of his fortune, there should also be the wreck of his happiness--it was, indeed, horrible! He could not discover the cause, though he thought over all that had occurred from his wedding day to the present time:--"I cannot find it out," cried he; "if a voice from Heaven would only tell me!"--but no voice came from Heaven, all was still and silent in the house; the clocks alone continued to tick together. Lenz looked long out at the window.

The night was calm; nothing stirred, but snow laden clouds were hurrying along, high up in the sky.

Far off yonder on the hill, a light is burning at the blacksmith's house; it burned the whole night the blacksmith died today.

"Why did he die instead of me? I would so gladly have died." Life and death chased each other in wild confusion through Lenz's soul; the living seemed to him no longer to live, nor the dead to die--the whole of life is only one long calamity--no bird ever sung, no man ever uplifted his voice in melody.

Lenz's forehead fell on the window sill, he started up in terror, and to escape such horrible waking dreams, he sought repose and forgetfulness in sleep.

Annele had been long asleep: he gazed intently at her. If he could only read her dreams; if he could only succour her--her and himself too.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A BEGGAR, AND MONEY SAVED.

We are in a country where no thaw comes for many months when once the frost fairly sets in. The Morgenhalde is the only exception to this; there the sun usually shone with such power, that there were drops from the roof, while elsewhere heavy icicles were suspended motionless from the houses. This winter, however, the sun in the sky seemed less benign towards the Morgenhalde than in old times. There was no sign of any thaw outside the house nor inside. It was not only colder than it had ever been before--this was no doubt caused by the wood on the side of the hill being cut down; the trunks were all lying about, only waiting for the spring floods to be floated down into the valley--but those who lived in the Morgenhalde seemed frozen also. Annele seemed no longer able to wake up to life and activity; there seemed something congealed within her, which a warm breath could scarcely have thawed, and that warm breath never came. She who had lived so long with her parents at home, now when they had left the place, felt their loss sadly. She said nothing to any one, but a worm gnawed at her heart, in the thought that she was the only poor one of the family. She could do nothing for her parents, nor a.s.sist in supporting them; indeed--who knows?--perhaps she must one day go begging to her own sisters, and entreat of them to give the cast off clothes of their children to hers.

Annele went through the house silently, and she, who was once so talkative, scarcely ever spoke. She answered at once when she was asked any question, but not a word more. She scarcely ever left the house, and her former restlessness seemed to have been transferred to Lenz. He despaired of ever again making anything of his work; and, therefore, the tools he handled, and the chair on which he sat, seemed burning.

He had besides constantly small creditors to pacify, and was obliged to be civil to every one. He who once upon a time said, simply, "So and so is the case," and was believed, must now give the most strong and sacred a.s.surances, that he would eventually pay the claimants. The greater was his anxiety, therefore, to redeem his pledged word, and he despaired of saving his honour, more than was at all necessary. His thoughts were constantly occupied by this and that person, waiting anxiously for their money, and his gloom and uneasiness daily increased. Annele saw well enough that he tormented himself needlessly, and she was often on the point of dispatching these unfortunate duns, with sharp words, and saying to Lenz that he should not be so humble to them, for the more meek people are in this world, the more are they trampled on. But she kept this to herself, for his anxiety would a.s.sist in accomplishing the project she had never given up. An inn must be bought, and then the world would have a very different aspect.

In his solicitude and despair, Lenz felt all the desolation of his heart, and often he stole a glance at Annele, and though he did not say it, he thought: "You are right, you told me once I was good for nothing--it is true now, for I am no longer good for anything; care gnaws at my heart, and our discord crushes me to the earth. I am like a candle lighted at both ends. Oh! if this were only soon at an end for ever!"

Watches and clocks were brought to him to be repaired, and in this way he cleared off some of his smaller debts; but it was sad to work now only to efface the past, when all his labour was required for the current expenses of the day, and no prospect for the future.

Many remained sitting with him till he had finished the work they had brought him to do, thus keeping him a prisoner in his own house, and yet he could not venture to send them away. Others took home their unfinished goods with hard and cruel words. "This can no longer go on, some substantial succour must be found," said Lenz to Annele; "I must again feel solid ground under my feet." She nodded slightly, but already the strong will within him inspired him with new strength.

Early next morning Lenz resolved to visit his mother's relatives, who lived on the other side of the valley; they would certainly help him, they had always been so proud of him, that they could not let him be entirely swamped.

Just as he arrived on the mountain ridge, day dawned, the stars in the sky grew pale, and Lenz gazed at the s.p.a.cious snow covered region.

Nowhere a symptom of life. Why should I live either? An expression taken from his sleepless nights, to signify total want of sleep, recurred to his memory--a _white sleep_--here it is! This feverish mood of his dreams made his cheeks burn, and an icy blast rushed over the heights.

Lenz was startled out of his reverie, by the wind carrying away his hat down a steep precipice. Lenz was hurrying after it, but he suddenly saw that he was rushing to certain death. It crossed his mind that it would be a good thing if he were to lose his life by an accident; but he shuddered at such cowardly thoughts.

The hail and snow continued incessantly, almost blinding him; even the crows in the air could scarcely guide their flight, being first hurled upwards, and then again dashed down, and those birds, usually flying along so steadily, fluttered their wings in wild terror and dismay.

Lenz struggled manfully along against snow and wind, and at last he breathed freer. There the smoke from houses is rising.

Lenz entered the first farmhouse.

"Oh! Lenz! welcome! how glad I am that you have not forgotten me!" said a tall, stout woman, as he came in; she was standing at the hearth, and had just broken up a thick branch of a tree; "what have you done with your hat?"

"Oh! now I recognize you--so it is you, Kathrine? You are grown stout.

I come to you as a beggar."

"Oh! Lenz, not so bad as that I hope?"

"But it is indeed," said Lenz, smiling bitterly. He can even jest on such a subject. "You must lend me, or give me, an old hat, for the wind has carried off mine."

"Come into the next room with me. My husband will be so sorry not to see you; he is gone to superintend timber being carted down the hill from the wood."

Kathrine--for it was the Bailiff's daughter Kathrine--threw open the door of the adjoining room, and begged Lenz politely to go in first.

The room was warm and comfortable. Kathrine was not offended by Lenz frankly owning that he had not come on purpose to see her, for he did not even know that she lived here; but he was heartily glad that chance had brought him to her house.

"All your life long you were a truly good and honest man, and I am thankful to see that you are still the same," said Kathrine. She fetched an old grey hat, and a military cap of her husband's, and begged Lenz to take the cap, as the hat was too shabby, and not fit for him to wear; but Lenz chose the hat, though it was much crushed, and had no hatband. As Lenz was so positive, Kathrine brought her Sunday's cap with broad black ribbons, and cutting off one of the strings, she put it on the hat. In the meanwhile she spoke of her former home, and forgot no one.

Lenz looked in surprise at the active, energetic woman, who was so ready to oblige him, and who spoke in such a kind and straightforward manner; she insisted on Lenz taking a cup of coffee, which she made ready in a few minutes, and while he was drinking it, Kathrine said, probably recalling the many memories connected with old times:--"Franzl often comes to see me, we have always remained the best of friends."

"You look indeed, as if you were prosperous," said Lenz.

"I am thankful to say that I have no cause to complain; I am always well and healthy, and we have enough for ourselves, and something to spare for others; besides my husband is honest and industrious. We are not so merry here, to be sure, as we used to be at home; they can't sing here, but I should be as happy as the day is long, if we only had a child; but my husband and I have agreed, that if we have not one by the time our fifth wedding day arrives, we are to adopt one--Faller, we think, might spare us one of his, we hope you will help us in this."

"I will, gladly."

"You are sadly altered; you look so wasted away--Is it then really true that Annele is become so cross, and bad tempered?"

Lenz's face became as red as fire, and Kathrine exclaimed:--"Oh! dear, how stupid I am! don't take it amiss; I beg your pardon a thousand times over, I had no intention to offend you, and no doubt there is not a word of truth in the report: when the days are long, people talk for ever, and when they are short, they chatter all night too. I beg and pray you will think no more of it, and forget what I said; I was so glad to see you again, and now all my gladness is gone, and I shall be quite unhappy for weeks to come--you were right, and the Landlady of the 'Lion' too, in saying to Franzl that I was too stupid to be your wife. Pray, pray, give me back my officious words."

She stretched out her hand to him, as if he could really place her words in it again.

Lenz grasped her hand cordially, and a.s.sured her that so far from being angry with her, he was most grateful for her kind welcome. He wished to go away immediately, but Kathrine detained him, talking on at a great rate, in the hope of making him forget her unlucky question, and when at last he left the house, she called after him:--"Give my love to Annele, and come together soon to see me."