Seed-time and Harvest Part 55

"He was trained for that," said Krischan Dasel, who came running out of the stable; "you see, gracious Herr, the Herr Count used to ride Bill to steeple-chases, and when he takes the notion he runs until he comes to some sort of hedge or gate, and then he springs over, and whenever he has done that trick, he stands like a lamb. You see, there he stands."

"Axel," said the young Frau, coming up, "what does all this mean?"

"Nothing, my child, I had given an order to the steward, and, when he had ridden off, something better occurred to me, and I wished to recall my order, and so followed him; his horse took a leap with him, and I rode back again."

"Thank G.o.d," said she, "that it is all right. But will you not come in and take luncheon?"

"Yes," said he, "I have rather fatigued myself to-day. Triddelsitz, everything goes on in the usual order."

"To command!" said Fritz, and Axel went into the house with his wife.

"Axel," she asked, as they sat at the table, "what does it mean? With us, at home, in the harvest, only one loaded wagon came into the yard at a time, and here you had six at the same time."

"Dear Frida, I know the old method well enough, but in that way, disorder is unavoidable; we have much better order, by having all the wagons driven in a row."

"Did Habermann arrange it so?"

"Habermann? No, he had nothing to do with it; I felt the necessity of emanc.i.p.ating myself finally from the supervision of my inspector, and I have signified to him that I would get in this harvest without his help."

"Axel, what have you done! The man cannot suffer that."

"He _must_, though! He must become aware that I am the master of the estate."

"He has always recognized you as such. Dear Axel, this will be a source of bitter sorrow to us," and she leaned back in her chair in deep thought, looking straight before her. Axel was not in a good humor: then the door opened, and Daniel Sadenwater brought a letter: "With the Herr Inspector's compliments."

"There it is!" said Frida.

Axel read the letter: "The Herr Inspector gives notice to leave at Christmas. May go at once. I need no Inspector. Can get a hundred for one. But it provokes me that he should give me notice, and that I did not get the start of him!" and with that he sprang up, and ran up and down the room. Frida sat still, and said not a word. Axel took that for a reproof, for he knew very well that he was in a dangerous path; but he would not allow himself to confess it, he must lay the blame of his fault upon other shoulders, and so he said, in his injustice:

"But that comes from your prejudice in favor of the old, pretentious hypocrite!"

Frida said not a word, but she rose quietly, and left the room.

She sat that evening, by the cradle of her little daughter, and rocked her darling to sleep. Ah, if thoughts could only be rocked to sleep!

But a child comes from our Lord, and has yet a bit of heaven's own peace in itself, which it has brought from above; human thoughts come from the earth, and care and sorrow dog their uncertain, weary feet, and an over-wearied man can not sleep. Yes, Axel was right, he could get another inspector, a hundred for one. But Frida was also right: a true heart was to leave her.

CHAPTER XXIX.

In Jochen Nussler's house, there was great joy and pleasure: Gottlieb was elected, was really chosen to be a pastor, and whom had he especially to thank for it? Who else, but our good, old, simple Pomuchelskopp; he gave the decisive vote. "Hauning," said our old friend, in the church, while the three young candidates, in anguish and fear, were taking their turns in the pulpit, contending for the parish; "Hauning," said he, as Gottlieb concluded, and wiped the sweat from his pale face,--"Klucking, we will choose this one, he is the stupidest."

"If you are only sure of it," said his dear wife, "how can you tell one blockhead from another?"

"Klucking," said Pomuchelskopp, taking no notice of his wife's pleasantry, perhaps because he was so accustomed to it, perhaps because Gottlieb's sermon had touched him, for Gottlieb had preached from the text, "Forgive your enemies,"--"Hauning, the first, the one with the red face, is a son of old Pachter Hamann, and like goes to like, you should see, he would farm it himself; and the second, see! he is a sly one, Gustaving saw him looking at the field, a little while ago, and he asked the Pastor's coachman who took care of the Pastor's barn, the thing was tumbling to pieces. Neither of them would do; the rector's son is our man."

"He who reckons wrong, reckons twice," said Hauning.

"I am not reckoning wrong," said Pomuchelskopp, "the Herr von Rambow and Nussler have declined the business, in writing; the young man cannot farm it himself, he is too stupid, and I need not allow an under-pachter; he must rent the field to me, and I have it in my own hands, I can say, 'So much, and not a shilling more!'"

And so Gottlieb was elected, for nearly all the votes were given for him, only a couple of day-laborers from Rexow voted for their master, Jochen Nussler. It was merely a mistake, for they believed it was all the same, and it was done in friendship.

And in Jochen Nussler's house, there was great joy and pleasure, and the two little twin-apples were floating in bright sunshine, down a clear brook, and nestled close to each other, and Mining floated joyously with her sister, although her own prospects were not so brilliant. But she had a little personal ground of rejoicing; her father, young Jochen, had come in from the field one day, and said this everlasting working was too hard for him, he wished Rudolph were there; and Mother had said he ought to be ashamed of himself, he was still a young fellow; and father had said, "Well, he would manage a little longer;" but it was the beginning of the final blessedness, and the thing was a little hook for her hopes to hang upon.

With Lining, however, all was settled and arranged, and the outfit was purchased, and Frau Nussler's living-room looked like a spinning-room and cotton factory; here was spinning, and there was knitting, there was sewing and embroidering, and twisting and reeling, and skeins were wound on and wound off, and every one had his share, even young Jochen, and young Bauschan. Young Jochen was employed as yarn-winder, and sat up stiffly, with his pipe in his mouth, and held out his arms with a skein of yarn, and his wife stood before him and wound it off, and when he believed he was to have a little relief, there came Lining, and then Mining, and he was a conquered man; but young Bauschan had his share, also, they were always treading on his toes, and no one had so much reason to curse this wedding as young Bauschan, till, at last, he retired from the business altogether, esteeming the rubbish-heap in the farm-yard a more comfortable place than a room where an outfit was being prepared.

"So," said Frau Nussler one evening, folding her hands in her lap, "Brasig, for all I care, they may be married to-morrow, I am ready with everything."

"Well," said Brasig, "then make your preparations, for the Pietist and Lining are sure to be ready too."

"Ah, Brasig, how you talk! The princ.i.p.al thing is still wanting, the government has not given its a.s.sent to the parish--What do you call the thing?"

"Ah yes, I know. You mean the vocation, as it is generally called, but I think vocations is the right word, because the blessed Pastor Behrens, in my younger days, always said vocations."

At this moment, Krischan the coachman came in at the door: "Good evening, Madam, and here are the papers."

"Are there no letters?" asked Frau Nussler.

"Yes," said Krischan, "there was a letter."

"Why didn't you bring it then?"

"Well," said Krischan, tossing his head, as if such stupidity could not be laid to his charge, "there was some trespa.s.s-money charged for it, and I hadn't so much by me."

"What did it cost?"

"Now just think of it, eight thalers! And they said there was a post-express or a post-payment, or something of that sort,--perhaps it was brought with post-horses,--and it was for a young Herr, who is our bridegroom."

"Good gracious, Krischan, such an expensive letter as that! From whom could it be?"

"I know something," said Krischan, "but I daren't say it," and he looked at Brasig.

"Before the Herr Inspector, you may say anything," said Frau Nussler.

"For all I care!" said Krischan. "It was from some woman-creature, but I have forgotten the name."

"From a woman!" exclaimed Frau Nussler, "to my son-in-law! and eight thalers to pay!"

"Everything comes to light!" said Brasig, "even the Pietists get found out!"

"Yes; it all comes out!" said Krischan, going out of the room.

"Krischan," Frau Nussler sprang up, "you must go to Rahnstadt to-morrow with the rye; ask particularly about the name, and I will give you eight thalers, I must have the letter."

"Good, Madam," said Krischan, "I will get it."

"Brasig," cried Frau Nussler, throwing herself into her arm-chair, so that the poor old thing groaned with her weight, "what has my son-in-law to do with a woman?"