Seldwyla Folks Part 10

There was, it is true, no longer any question of a rational cultivation of the soil which once had borne so plentifully and where the wheat had waved like a golden sea toward harvest time. Instead of that now there was a mixed crop sprouting: rye, turnips, wheat and potatoes, with some other "garden truck" intermingling, all from seed that had come from paper packages left over or purchased in small quant.i.ties at random, so that the whole cultivated s.p.a.ce looked like a negligently tended vegetable bed, in which cabbage, parsley and turnips predominated. It was plainly to be seen that the owner of it, too lazy or indifferent to do his farmer's work properly, had mainly had in mind to raise such things as would enable him to live from day to day. Here a handful of carrots had been torn out, there a mess of cabbage or potatoes, and the rest had fared on for good or ill, and much of it lay rotting on the ground. Everybody, too, had been in the habit of treading around and in it all, just as he listed, and the one broad field now presented nearly the desolate appearance of the once ownerless field whence had grown all the mischief that had wrought havoc and brought the two neighbors of old down so low. About the house itself there was no visible sign at all of farm work. The stable stood vacant, its door hung loosely from the broken staples, and innumerable spider's webs, grown thick and large during the summer, were shimmering in the sunshine. Against the broad door of a barn, where once were housed the fruits of the field, hung untidy fishermen's nets and other sporting apparatus, in grim token of abandoned farming. In the farmyard was to be seen not a single chicken, pigeon or turkey, no dog or cat. The well only was the sole live thing. But even its clear water no longer flowed in a regular gush through the spout, but trickled through the broken tube, wasting itself on the ground and forming dark pools on the soggy earth, a perfect symbol of neglect. For while it would not have taken much time or trouble to mend the broken tube, now Vreni was forced to use the water she needed for her domestic tasks, for cooking and laundry work, from the tricklings that escaped. The house itself, too, was a sad thing to see. The window panes were all broken and pasted over with paper. Yet the windows, after all, were the most cheerful-looking objects, for Vreni kept them clean and shiny with soap and water, as shiny, in fact, as her own eyes, and the latter, too, had to make up for all lack of finery. And as the curly hair and the bright kerchiefs made amends for much in her, so the wild growths stretching up toward windows and along the jamb of the doorsills, and almost covering the very broken panes on the windows, gave a charm to this tumbledown homestead. A wilderness of scarlet bean blossoms, of portulac and sweet-scented flowers ran riot along the house front, and these in their vivid colors clambered along anything that would give them a hold, such as the handle of a rake, a stake or broken rod. Vreni's grandfather had left behind a rusty halberd or spontoon, such as were weapons much in vogue in his days, for he had fought as a mercenary abroad. Now this rusty implement had been stuck into the ground, and the willowy tendrils of the beanstalk embraced it tightly. More bean plants groped their way up a shattered ladder which had leaned against the house for ages, and thence their blossoms hung into the windows as Vreni's curls hung into her pretty face.

This farmyard, so much more picturesque than prosperous, lay somewhat apart from its neighbors, and therefore was not exposed so much to their inspection. But for the moment as Sali stared and watched nothing human at all was visible. Sali thus was undisturbed in his reflections as he leaned with his back against the barndoor, about thirty paces away, and studied with attentive mien the deserted yard. He had been doing this for some time when Vreni at last appeared under the housedoor and gazed calmly and thoughtfully before her as if thinking deeply of only one matter. Sali himself did not stir but contemplated her as he would have done a fine painting. But after a brief while her eyes traveled towards him, and she perceived him. Then she and he stood without motion and looked, looked just as if they did not see living beings but aerial phenomena. But at last Sali slowly stood upright, and just as slowly went across the farmyard and towards Vreni. When he was but a step or so from her, she stretched out her hands toward him and p.r.o.nounced only the one word: "Sali!"

He seized her hands speechlessly, and then continued gazing into her face which had suddenly grown pale. Tears filled her eyes, and gradually under his gaze she flushed painfully, and at last she said in a very low voice: "What do you want here, Sali?"

"Only to see you," he replied. "Will we not become good friends again?"

"And our fathers, Sali?" asked Vreni, turning her weeping face aside, since her hands had been imprisoned by him.

"Must we bear the burden of what they have done and have become?"

answered Sali. "It may be that we ourselves can redeem the evil they have wrought, if we only love each other well enough and stand together against the future."

"No, Sali, no good will ever come of it all," replied Vreni sobbingly; "therefore better go your ways, Sali, in G.o.d's name."

"Are you alone, Vreni?" he asked. "May I come in a minute?"

"Father has gone to town for a spell, as he told me before leaving,"

remarked Vreni, "to do your father a bad turn. But I cannot let you in here, because it may be that later on you would not be able to leave again without attracting notice. As yet everything around here is still and n.o.body about. Therefore, I beg of you, go before it is too late."

"No, I could not leave you without speaking," was his answer, and his voice shook with emotion. "Since yesterday I have had to think of you constantly, and I cannot go. We must speak to each other, at least for half an hour or an hour; that will be a relief to both of us."

Vreni reflected a minute. Then she said thoughtfully: "Toward sundown I shall walk out toward our field. You know the one I mean--we have but the one left. I must pick some vegetables. I feel sure that n.o.body else will be there, because they are mowing all of them in a different direction. If you insist on coming, you may come there, but for the present go and take care n.o.body else sees you. Even if n.o.body at all bothers any longer about us, they would nevertheless gossip so much about it that father could not fail to hear it."

They now dropped their hands, but once more seized them, and both also asked: "How do you do?"

But instead of answering each other they repeated the same phrase over and over again, since they, after the manner of lovers, no longer were able to guide or control their words. Thus the only answer each received was given with the eyes, and without saying anything more to each other they finally separated, half sad, half joyful.

"Go there at once," she called after him; "I shall be there almost as soon as yourself."

Sali followed this advice, and went at once up the steep path that led to the hill where the busy world seemed so far away and where the soul expanded, to the undulating fields that stretched out far on both sides, where the brooding July sun shone and the drifting white clouds sailed overhead, where the ripe corn in the gentle breeze bobbed up and down, where the river below glinted blue, and all these scenes of past happiness filled his soul after a long dearth with peace and gentle joy, and his griefs and fears were left below. At full length he threw himself down amid the half-shade of the upstanding wheat, there where it marked the boundary of Marti's waste acres, and peered with unblinking eyes into the gold-rimmed clouds.

Although scarcely a quarter hour elapsed until Vreni followed him, and although he had thought of nothing but his bliss and his love, dreaming of it and building castles in the air, he was yet surprised when Vreni suddenly stood at his side, smiling down at him, and with a start he rose.

"Vreni," he exclaimed in a voice that trembled with love, and she, still and smiling, tendered both her hands to him. Hand in hand they then paced along the whispering corn, slowly down towards the river, and then as slowly back again, with scarcely any words. This short walk they repeated twice or thrice, back and forth, still, blissful, and quiet, so that this young pair now resembled likewise a pair of stars, coming and going across the gentle curve of the hillock and adown the declivity beyond, just as had once, years and years ago, the accurately measuring plows of the two rustic neighbors. But as they once on this pilgrimage lifted their eyes from the blue cornflowers along the edge of the field where they had rested, they suddenly saw a swarthy fellow, like a darksome star, precede them on their path, a fellow of whom they could not tell whence he had appeared so entirely without warning.

Probably he had been lying in the corn, and Vreni shuddered, while Sali murmured with affright: "It's the black fiddler!" And indeed, the fellow ambling along before them carried under his arm a violin, and truly, too, he looked swarthy enough. A black crushed felt hat, a black blouse and hair and beard pitchdark, even his unwashed hands of that hue, he made the impression of a man carrying along an evil omen. This man led a wandering life. He did all sorts of jobs: mended kettles and pans, helped charcoal burners, aided in pitching in the woods, and only used his fiddle and earned money that way when the peasants somewhere were celebrating a festival or holiday, a wedding or big dance, and such like. Sali and Vreni meant to leave the fiddler by himself. Quiet as mice they slowly walked behind him, thinking that he would probably turn off the road soon. He seemed to pay no attention to the two, never turning around and keeping perfect silence. With that they felt a weird influence coming from the fellow, so that they had not the courage to openly avoid him and turning aside unconsciously they followed in his tracks to the very end of the field, the spot where that unjust heap of stone and rock lay, the one that had started the two families on their downward road. Innumerable poppies and wild roses had grown there and were now in full bloom, wherefore this stony desert lay like an enormous splotch of blood along the road.

All at once the black fiddler sprang with one jump on top one of the irregular ramparts of stone, the rim of which was also scarlet with wild blossoms, then turned himself around, and threw a glance in every direction. The young couple stopped and looked up at him shamefaced.

For turn they would not in face of him, and to proceed along on the same path would have taken them into the village, which they also wished to avoid.

He looked at them keenly, and then he shouted: "I know you two. You are the children of those who have stolen from me this soil. I am glad to see you here, and to notice how the theft has benefited you. Surely, I shall also live to see you two go before me the way of all flesh. Yes, look at me, you little fools. Do you like my nose, eh?"

And indeed, he had a terrible nose, one which broke forth from his emaciated swarthy face like a beak, or rather more like a good-sized club. As if it had been pasted on to his bony face it looked and below that the tiny mouth, in the shape of a small round hole, singularly contracted and expanded, and out of this hole his words constantly tumbled, whistling or buzzing or hissing. His small twisted felt hat, shapeless and shabby, pushed over his left ear, heightened the uncanny effect. This piece of his apparel seemed to change its form with every motion of the queer-looking head, although in reality it sat immovable on his pate. And of the eyes of this strange fellow nothing was to be noticed but their whites, since the pupils were flashing around all the time, just as though they were two hares jumping about to escape being seized.

"Look at me well," he then continued. "Your two fathers know all about me, and everybody in the village can identify me by my nose. Years ago they were spreading the rumor that a good piece of money was awaiting the heir to these fields here. I have called at court twenty times. But since I had no baptismal certificate and since my friends, the vagrants, who witnessed my birth, have no voice that the law will recognize, the time set has elapsed, and they have cheated me out of the little sum, large enough all the same to permit my emigrating to a better country. I have implored your fathers at that time, again and again, to testify for me to the effect that they at least believed me, according to their conscience, to be the rightful heir. But they drove me from their farms, and now, ha! ha! ha! they themselves have gone to the devil. Well and good, that is the way things turn out in this world, and I don't care a rap. And now I will just the same fiddle if you want to dance."

With that he was down again on the ground beside them, at a mighty bound, and seeing they did not want to dance he quickly disappeared in the direction of the village; there the crop was to be brought in towards nightfall, and there would be gay doings.

When he was gone the young couple sat down, discouraged and out of spirits, among the wilderness of stone. They let their hands drop and hung their poor heads too. For the sudden appearance of the vagrant fiddler had wiped out the happy memories of their childhood, and their joyous mood in which they, like they used in their younger days, had wandered about in the green and among the corn, had gone with him. They sat once more on the hard soil of their misery, and the happy gleam of childhood had vanished, and their minds were oppressed and darkened.

But all at once Vreni remembered the fiddler's nose, and his whole odd figure, and she burst out laughing loud and merry. She exclaimed: "The poor fellow surely looks too queer. What a nose he had!" And with that a charmingly careless merriment flashed out of her brown eyes, just as though she had only been waiting for the fiddler's nose to chase away all the sad clouds from her mind. Sali, too, regarded the girl, and noticed this sunny gaiety. But by that time Vreni had already forgotten the immediate cause of her gleefulness, and now she laughed on her own account into Sali's face. Sali, dazed and astonished, involuntarily gazed at the girl with laughing mouth, like a hungry man who suddenly is offered sweetened wheat bread, and he said: "Heavens, Vreni, how pretty you are!"

And Vreni, for sole answer, laughed but the more, and out of the mere enjoyment of her sweet temper she gurgled a few melodious notes that sounded to the boy like the warblings of a nightingale.

"Oh, you little witch," he exclaimed enraptured, "where have you learned such tricks? What sorcery are you applying to me?"

"Sorcery?" she murmured astonished, in a voice of sweet enchantment, and she seized Sali's hand anew. "There's no sorcery about this. How gladly I should have laughed now and then, with reason or without. Now and then, indeed, all by myself, I have laughed a bit, because I couldn't help it, but my heart was not in it. But now it's different.

Now I should like to laugh all the time, holding your hand and feeling happy. I should like to hold your hand forever, and look into your eyes. Do you too love me a little bit?"

"Ah, Vreni," he answered, and looked full and affectionately into her eyes, "I never cared for any girl before. And I have never until now taken a good look at another girl. It always seemed to me as though some time or other I should have to love you, and without knowing it, I think, you have always been in my thoughts."

"And so it was in my case," said Vreni, "only more so. For you never would look at me and did not know what had become of me and what I had grown into. But as for me, I have from time to time, secretly, of course, and from afar, cast a glance at you, and knew well enough what you were like. Do you still remember how often as children we used to come here? You know in the little baby cart? What small folk we were those days, and how long, long ago that all is! One would think we were old, real old now. Eh?"

Sali became thoughtful.

"How old are you, Vreni?" he asked. "I should think you must be about seventeen?"

"I am seventeen and a half," answered she. "And you?"

"Guess!"

"Oh, I know, you are going on twenty."

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I won't tell you," she laughed.

"Won't tell me?"

"No, no," and she giggled merrily.

"But I want to know."

"Will you compel me?"

"We'll see about that."

These silly remarks Sali made because he wanted to keep his hands busy and to have a pretext for the awkward caresses he attempted and which his love for the beautiful girl hungered for. But she continued the childish dialogue willingly enough for some time longer, showing plenty of patience the while, feeling instinctively her lover's mood. And the simple sallies on both sides seemed to them the height of wisdom, so soft and sweet and full of their mutual feelings they were. At last, however, Sali waxed bold and aggressive, and seized Vreni and pressed her down into the scarlet bed of poppies by main strength. There she lay panting, blinking at the sun with eyes half-closed. Her softly rounded cheeks glowed like ripe apples and her mouth was breathing hard so that the snow-white rows of teeth became visible. Daintily as if penciled her eyebrows were defined above those flashing eyes, and her young bosom rose and fell under the working four hands which mutually caressed and fought each other. Sali was beyond himself with delight, seeing this wonderful young creature before him, knowing her to be his own, and he deemed himself wealthier than a monarch.

"I see you still have all your teeth," he said. "Do you recall how often we tried to count them? Do you now know how to count?"

"Oh, you silly," smilingly rejoined Vreni, "these are not the same.

Those I lost long ago."

So Sali in the simplicity of his soul wanted to renew the game, and prepared to count them over once more. But Vreni abruptly rose and closed her mouth. Then she began to form a wreath of poppies and to place it on her head. The wreath was broad and long, and on the brow of the nut-brown maid it was an ornament so bewitching as to lend her an enchanting air. Sali held in his arms what rich people would have dearly paid for if merely they had had it painted on their walls.

But at last she sprang up. "Goodness, how hot it is here! Here we remain like ninnies and allow ourselves to be roasted alive. Come, dear, and let us sit among the corn!"

And they got up and looked for a suitable hiding-place among the tall wheat. When they had found it, they slipped into the furrows of the field so that n.o.body would have discovered them without regular search, leaving no trace behind, and they built for themselves a narrow nest among the golden ears that topped their heads when they were seated, so that they only saw the deep azure of the sky above and nothing else in the world. They clung to each other tightly, and showered kisses on cheeks and hair and mouth, until at last they desisted from sheer exhaustion, or whatever one wishes to call it when the caresses of two lovers for one or two minutes cease and thus, right in the ecstasy of the blossom tide of life, there is the hint of the perishableness of everything mundane. They heard the larks singing high overhead, and sought them with their sharp young eyes, and when they thought they saw one flashing along in the sunlight like shooting stars along the firmament, they kissed again, in token of reward, and tried to cheat and to overreach each other at this game just as much as they could.