Tales of Two Countries Part 18

He could not help smiling at himself, as he stood and wiped his face and neck, adjusted his necktie, and felt his collar, which had melted on the sunny side. But it was a blissful smile, he was in that frame of mind in which one sees, or at any rate apprehends, nothing of the external world; and he said to himself, half aloud, "Love endures everything, accepts everything."

"And perspires freely," said a fat little gentleman whose white waistcoat suddenly came within Cousin Hans's range of vision.

"Oh, is that you, uncle?" he said, a little abashed.

"Of course it is," answered Uncle Frederick. "I've left the shady side of the street expressly to save you from being roasted. Come along with me."

Thereupon he tried to drag his nephew with him, but Hans resisted. "Do you know who lives at No. 34, uncle?"

"Not in the least; but do let us get into the shade," said Uncle Frederick; for there were two things he could not endure: heat and laughter--the first on account of his corpulence, and the second on account of what he himself called "his apoplectic tendencies."

"By-the-bye," he said, when they reached the cool side of the street, and he had taken his nephew by the arm, "now that I think of it, I do know, quite well, who lives in No. 34; it's old Captain Schrappe."

"Do you know him?" asked Cousin Hans, anxiously.

"Yes, a little, just as half the town knows him, from having seen him on the esplanade, where he walks every day."

"Yes, that was just where I saw him," said his nephew. "What an interesting old gentleman he looks. I should like so much to have a talk with him."

"That wish you can easily gratify," answered Uncle Frederick. "You need only place yourself anywhere on the ramparts and begin drawing lines in the sand, then he'll come to you."

"Come to you?" said Cousin Hans.

"Yes, he'll come and talk to you. But you must be careful: he's dangerous."

"Eh?" said Cousin Hans.

"He was once very nearly the end of me."

"Ah!" said Cousin Hans.

"Yes, with his talk, you understand."

"Oh?" said Cousin Hans.

"You see, he has two stories," continued Uncle Frederick, "the one, about a sham fight in Sweden, is a good half-hour long. But the other, the battle of Waterloo, generally lasts from an hour and a half to two hours. I have heard it three times." And Uncle Frederick sighed deeply.

"Are they so very tedious, then, these stories? asked Cousin Hans.

"Oh, they're well enough for once in a way," answered his uncle, "and if you should get into conversation with the captain, mark what I tell you: If you get off with the short story, the Swedish one, you have nothing to do but alternately to nod and shake your head. You'll soon pick up the lay of the land."

"The lay of the land?" said Cousin Hans.

"Yes, you must know that he draws the whole manoeuvre for you in the sand; but it's easy enough to understand if only you keep your eye on A and B. There's only one point where you must be careful not to put your foot in it."

"Does he get impatient, then, if you don't understand?" asked Cousin Hans.

"No, quite the contrary; but if you show that you're not following, he begins at the beginning again, you see! The crucial point in the sham fight," continued his uncle, "is the movement made by the captain himself, in spite of the general's orders, which equally embarra.s.sed both friends and foes. It was this stroke of genius, between ourselves, which forced them to give him the Order of the Sword, to induce him to retire. So when you come to this point, you must nod violently, and say: 'Of course--the only reasonable move--the key to the position.' Remember that--the key."

"The key," repeated Cousin Hans.

"But," said his uncle, looking at him with antic.i.p.atory compa.s.sion, "if, in your youthful love of adventure, you should bring on yourself the long story, the one about Waterloo, you must either keep quite silent or have all your wits about you. I once had to swallow the whole description over again, only because, in my eagerness to show how thoroughly I understood the situation, I happened to move Kellermann's dragoons instead of Milhaud's cuira.s.siers!"

"What do you mean by moving the dragoons, uncle?" asked Cousin Hans.

"Oh, you'll understand well enough, if you come in for the long one.

But," added Uncle Frederick, in a solemn tone, "beware, I warn you, beware of Blucher!"

"Blucher?" said Cousin Hans.

"I won't say anything more. But what makes you wish to know about this old original? What on earth do you want with him."

"Does he walk there every forenoon?" asked Hans.

"Every forenoon, from eleven to one, and every afternoon, from five to seven. But what interest--?"

"Has he many children?" interrupted Hans.

"Only one daughter; but what the deuce--?"

"Good-bye, uncle! I must get home to my books."

"Stop a bit! Aren't you going to Aunt Maren's this evening? She asked me to invite you."

"No, thanks, I haven't time," shouted Cousin Hans, who was already several paces away.

"There's to be a ladies' party--young ladies!" bawled Uncle Frederick; for he did not know what had come over his nephew.

But Hans shook his head with a peculiar energetic contempt, and disappeared round the corner.

"The deuce is in it," thought Uncle Frederick, "the boy is crazy, or--oh, I have it!--he's in love! He was standing here, babbling about love, when I found him--outside No. 34. And then his interest in old Schrappe! Can he be in love with Miss Betty? Oh, no," thought Uncle Frederick, shaking his head, as he, too, continued on his way, "I don't believe he has sense enough for that."

II.

Cousin Hans did not eat much dinner that day. People in love never eat much, and, besides, he did not care for rissoles.

At last five o'clock struck. He had already taken up his position on the ramparts, whence he could survey the whole esplanade. Quite right: there came the black frock-coat, the light trousers, and the well-brushed hat.

Cousin Hans felt his heart palpitate a little. At first he attributed this to a sense of shame in thus craftily setting a trap for the good old captain. But he soon discovered that it was the sight of the beloved one's father that set his blood in a ferment. Thus rea.s.sured, he began, in accordance with Uncle Frederick's advice, to draw strokes and angles in the sand, attentively fixing his eyes, from time to time, upon the Castle of Akerhuus.

The whole esplanade was quiet and deserted. Cousin Hans could hear the captain's firm steps approaching; they came right up to him and stopped.

Hans did not look up; the captain advanced two more paces and coughed.

Hans drew a long and profoundly significant stroke with his stick, and then the old fellow could contain himself no longer.

"Aha, young gentleman," he said, in a friendly tone, taking off his hat, "are you making a plan of our fortifications?"

Cousin Hans a.s.sumed the look of one who is awakened from deep contemplation, and, bowing politely, he answered with some embarra.s.sment: "No, it's only a sort of habit I have of trying to take my bearings wherever I may be."