Villa Eden Part 148

"Or if you mean to devote yourself to practical life," he added, "I have nothing to say against that; only you must decide on one or the other."

Eric returned to the hotel as one roused from a dream. He saw the danger which threatened him, of seeking to shine in society by a display of the thoughts and the knowledge he had acquired in the studies which he now no longer pursued. The Professor had touched a very different chord in him from what the Doctor had once stirred. He took pleasure in making his old teacher better acquainted with Clodwig, the Banker, Sonnenkamp, and particularly with Roland, whose lessons he now resumed with an energy which filled the boy with amazement.

The Professor took especial pleasure in the society of Roland, who called him, as he had done at their first meeting, "grand-teacher."

There was a deference and a ready submission in his manner, which filled Eric with delight, when he saw them together. Many a saying of the n.o.ble old man's sank deep into the boy's mind.

"Who would suppose that the long lieutenant and the Professor belonged to the same race of men?" he once said to Eric.

Eric liked to leave his pupil as much as possible alone with the Professor, and was gratified by having the latter say to him after a few days,--

"You have done a good work; the boy has that sensitive pride in him which we are apt to a.s.sociate with gentle birth. I should have no fear of his falling into low or criminal habits; his n.o.ble pride would be repelled by their vulgarity. There is no denying the fact that self-esteem amounting to pride can become, under proper guidance, a sure moral principle."

Bella had begun by trying to make a b.u.t.t of the Professor, but the old man looked at her with an expression of such childlike compa.s.sion, and at the same time of such mild rebuke, that she soon dropped her tone of banter, and overlooked the good Professor altogether.

This unpretending and apparently inexperienced man formed, however, very decided opinions upon all whom he met. Clodwig he perceived to be a good and n.o.ble man. His cla.s.sical education delighted him particularly. "Cla.s.sical education," he said, "is the stone foundation, which, firmly planted in the ground, is itself invisible, but bears up the whole building."

The Banker was too uneasy and restless to please him, but he gave him credit for possessing a characteristic very common among the Jews, that of grat.i.tude even for intellectual benefits.

Sonnenkamp inspired the Professor with a shrinking awe. He acknowledged that the feeling was unjust, for the man had always showed great friendliness towards him, but still he could not conquer it.

He once confessed to Eric that he was afraid of persons who were so strong; he always felt as if Sonnenkamp would take him up in his arms like a little child and run away with him. He knew he should never understand the man's character perfectly; reading characters was something like deciphering inscriptions on stone; if you cannot make them out at the first glance, you will succeed no better with hard study.

Quite a new influence was exerted, however, as Professor Einsiedel became more intimate with Manna. In Eric's case, he had recognized instantly his having been sent to this place by that invisible power which harmonizes all life, for the purpose of bringing help to his young friend. Such was even more the fact with regard to Manna, though here he was not conscious of it. Manna was needing and seeking help, and attached herself, with the loving watchfulness of a daughter, to this delicate man, who outwardly was so childlike and dependent.

Geology and chemistry have not yet satisfactorily settled the manner in which these medicinal springs work their cures, and we are equally ignorant of the workings of that subtle influence by which one man affects another for good or for evil. Thus mysteriously did Professor Einsiedel influence Manna. When she told him of her desire to enter the convent, he expressed his envy.

"If I were a Catholic," he said, "I would enter a convent too; but it must be a different kind of a convent, one exclusively for men of science, who have no time or faculty for providing for the necessities of life, and yet have works of importance to carry out."

Manna smiled, for she could not help thinking of Claus, who also wanted to enter a convent, so that he might have nothing to do but drink all the time. But she quickly banished all such comparisons; for here was a repose, a devotion to a sacred idea, which might boldly compare itself with the sacredness of the church. She trembled at the thought, but could not drive it from her mind. With some timidity, and yet emboldened by the remembrance of her former undoubting confidence, she ventured to approach the Professor, though only interrogatively, upon the subject of the necessity of religious faith, as the only means of salvation. She was amazed at the sudden excitement that blazed up in the quiet little man.

"We are no enemies of the church," he said, "for we only make war upon the living. The church has not been able to fashion the world, nor society, nor a single state; all it has succeeded in doing, is to found asylums and hospitals. Not to her is given the direction of life, but to cla.s.sical education, to continually advancing culture. My child, there is a fellow-professor of mine in the University, who persistently maintains that the _Corpus juris_ has done much more for the civilization of the world, than the fragments which are included under the name of the Old and New Testament. I do not wholly agree with him, for the Bible has touched a different chord in the world. Consider, the world has inherited from cla.s.sical antiquity two great ideas, those of state and nationality. Men were brought up in these two ideas. Then came religion, and taught universality, the oneness of all mankind, the brotherhood of man, and the unity of humanity. Religion alone could have done it; it would have been impossible for the Roman civilization under the old and new Caesars. The church has done her work; she has implanted the idea of humanity. Now people a.s.semble again in states, in nationalities, still needing to preserve the idea of brotherhood. But forgive me, I am falling too much into the schoolmaster's tone."

"No, no; pray go on; I understand. Pray go on!"

"Very well, then; what was ever purely ideal is not lost to the world, only it must not require to be forever and ever the one sole expression of truth. Here lies the difference between us unbelievers, as we are called, and believers. Let me ill.u.s.trate my meaning by facts--or do I weary you?"

"How can you think so poorly of me?"

"Forgive me. The present century is laboring for two great objects, the emanc.i.p.ation of the serfs, and the abolition of slavery. They will be accomplished, but not by the church; no, by the progress of culture.

Forgive me, my child, I do not want to confuse you. Never touch upon the subject again, be sure you never do again. I am a patient man, very patient. I want to disturb no one, but I pray you, most earnestly I must pray you, never to touch upon these subjects with me again. As I have said, I am sorry if I have spoken slightingly of anything which is sacred and dear to you; I hope it will so continue to you, although I reject it. But I beg you, earnestly beg you, not to approach this theme again."

As Manna walked by the side of the Professor, she longed for some hand from heaven to s.n.a.t.c.h her away from him.

What had she fallen upon? What words had she had to hear? and that not from a man of the world, but from one who desired nothing but to end his life in modest quiet.

No hand from heaven was outstretched to s.n.a.t.c.h her away, and she gradually succeeded in regaining her tranquillity.

It was well she should have heard this from a man she could not despise. This was the last a.s.sault of the tempter; she would not yield under it. So she promised herself, and pressed her hand on her heart, as if there was something there of which she would keep fast hold. But the deed was done; she could not recall it. She had lost that for which she had been ready to sacrifice her life, for the church, to which she had been ready to give herself, had done nothing towards destroying this monstrous evil.

She felt inclined henceforth to avoid the Professor; but that would have been unjust. What had he done except honestly to tell her his convictions?

A feeling of attachment led her still to devote much of her time to him, but both avoided any discussion upon matters of religion; only Manna would sometimes look up at him with wondering eyes, when he would quote, from heathen writings, sayings which she had been taught to consider the exclusive property of the church.

A wide horizon opened before her eyes, in which the different religions seemed only so many promontories, and this una.s.suming, delicately organized man seemed a type of the human individual, who had received into himself and harmonized all contradiction. She saw Eric's reverence for the Professor, his childlike deference, his respectful attention, the submission which he every hour displayed towards him. She watched Eric closely. It surprised her that this man of strongly marked individuality should be capable of such humble veneration for another.

Professor Einsiedel was often accompanied also by a little dried-up old man of most humble exterior, who always withdrew at Manna's approach, as if he felt himself unworthy to intrude upon the society of men.

Professor Einsiedel once told Manna the history of this companion of his. They had been school-fellows together, and this man was early taken from his studies on account of the death of his father, and the necessity of providing for his brothers and sisters. He became book-keeper in a great banking house, by which he earned enough not only to support a widowed sister and her children, but managed, by practising the strictest economy, to lay by a considerable sum.

One night, on returning from the theatre, he found that his nephew had broken open his desk, stolen his whole property, and escaped with it to America. Without telling any one of the robbery--for how could he give up to justice his sister's son?--he began anew to spare and to save, and thus sacrificed his life for that of another.

Professor Einsiedel had no idea what a deep impression this simple history made upon Manna,--this story of silent, un.o.btrusive self-sacrifice.

One subject upon which Manna and Einsiedel could converse with perfect sympathy was Eric's mother. The Professor took for granted that Manna lived on terms of intimate friendship with the n.o.ble lady, and he could not find words strong enough to express his appreciation of her firmness and n.o.bleness of mind. Manna smiled to hear him say that the Professorin had converted him from a very low opinion of the capabilities of her s.e.x, to a conviction that a woman is endowed with all the characteristics of man, only in a more beautiful shape. Manna also had many pleasant things to tell of Eric's mother.

This una.s.suming little man, who had thus dropped by chance into their circle, had exercised on the minds of all an influence far outweighing that of the excitements and allurements of the life in the great world.

But even in this society, Sonnenkamp thought only of advancing his own plans of self-aggrandizement. In a few days the Prince, Clodwig, and Bella were to take their departure; if he could not win over the Prince, he was resolved to attach all the n.o.bility at least to his interests.

CHAPTER XV.

THE MARRIAGE PROCESSION TURNED TO STONE.

The day of the fete had arrived. Roland rode on in front with Pranken, Sonnenkamp walked with the Banker, and Eric with Clodwig. The day was clear and sunny, without being too warm. A brilliant company left their carriages upon the hill, and strolled down; the wood-path to the valley below.

Eric tried to lead the conversation to Sonnenkamp's receiving a t.i.tle of n.o.bility, but Clodwig at once interrupted him, and, with a tone of almost parental authority, warned him against mixing himself up in any way with that matter. For the first time, there was something in Clodwig's look that Eric could not fathom. They went down the path in silence. A struggle was going on in Eric's mind, and in Clodwig also was a conflict of feeling concerning his young friend.

As soon as they reached the valley, Sonnenkamp drew Eric aside, and asked what opinion Clodwig had expressed. Eric replied that he declined speaking at all upon the subject.

"Thank you--thank you very much," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sonnenkamp, with no apparent reason.

By the side of the brook in Heilingthal Joseph had already spread the table, and Sonnenkamp had only the addition of a few trifles to suggest. The company a.s.sembled was most select, and all expressed surprise and pleasure at the arrangements that had been made. The long lieutenant was particularly eloquent, and called up a singular expression in Sonnenkamp's face by always, although he was no Austrian, addressing him as Herr von Sonnenkamp. A band of music, stationed in the forest, played sweet and lively airs. A great point of interest was the group of rocks above where the company were seated, which, the story ran, had been the living figures of a marriage procession turned into stone by spirits from the lower world.

"What can have been the origin of this tradition?" asked Bella, turning to Eric.

All gave polite attention, as Eric explained that this was one of the many variations of the Tannhauser tradition, and that nations in the dawn of civilization gave themselves up to a belief in the old traditions, which have their root in the ever haunting mystery of the origin of the earth.

Suddenly a forester's horn was heard, and rocks and valley became the theatre of a strange spectacle. A band of gipsy musicians, fantastically dressed, came suddenly to view, playing wild melodies,--one young fellow in particular, with raven hair, leaping and dancing as he played upon his fiddle. Great praises were bestowed upon Sonnenkamp for his ingenuity in always devising some new entertainment, and his protestations that this was a surprise even to himself, were taken by some for truth, and by others as modesty. A rapid glance, exchanged between himself and Lootz, would have proved to any one who had seen it his sincerity in disclaiming all knowledge of the exhibition.

Bella encouraged the gipsies to wilder and wilder music, and, on learning that their camp was pitched in the neighborhood, she went to visit it, accompanied by Roland and some of the ladies. The absence of Professor Einsiedel she greatly lamented; as he had told her that the language of the gipsies bore some connection with the Sanscrit. Eric was much surprised at being able to say a few words to these strange people in their own tongue. Bella asked if there was no one in the company who could draw, and insisted on the long lieutenant beginning a sketch at once of the gipsy camp, the wretched horse eating a wisp of hay, the wagon, and the old women sitting about an open fire. A wild, impudent looking girl, who wore a large crinoline, and smoked a short pipe in a free and easy fashion, soon became her especial favorite. One old hag, pointing her skinny hand at Roland, cried out:--

"He shall be our king."

"Can you not tell fortunes?" asked Bella, extending her hand to the old woman.