Villa Eden Part 173

In a very courteous tone she said,--

"Oh, I a.s.sure you, I should be very sorry to antic.i.p.ate Herr Sonnenkamp's dismissal."

The calm bearing which the Professorin had been accustomed to maintain in all extremities, now failed her for the first time. She had had an extensive observation of life, but never had she seen this, had never regarded it as even possible that there should be such a thing as pure malice, which has no other motive than to be malicious, and derives its joy from the suffering of others. In the feeling that this additional experience must now be hers, and in the endeavour to settle this in her thought and give it lodgment as an actual and accepted truth, she lost all ability to make any resistance.

She cast up a glance at Bella that ought to have overcome her, but Bella was resolved not to give way a single hair's breadth; she must have something to rend in pieces, and as Eric could not be got at, his mother must answer instead. She continued talking for a long time, using very polite phrases, but the Professorin hardly listened, and scarcely noticed when she took her leave.

Bella rushed triumphantly back to the villa across the meadow-path, got into the carriage, which was standing ready in the yard, and returned to Wolfsgarten.

Her pa.s.sion for destruction was sated, and she felt relieved, and in good spirits.

BOOK XII.

CHAPTER I.

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EXECUTION.

On the journey to the capital, Sonnenkamp and Pranken were astonished at Roland's fluency and mental activity; he was the only one who expressed himself freely, for both Sonnenkamp and Pranken could not entirely repress a feeling of anxiety. They appeared to be so confidential and open with each other, and yet Sonnenkamp was continually asking himself: Do you know it? and Pranken, on the other hand: Do you know that I know it?

But neither of them spoke out. How were they to do it? Pranken wanted, when the revelation took place, to appear as the innocent, the ignorant, the deluded individual; he had been imposed upon, he as well as the rest of the world, and more than all, the Prince himself. The Prince had conferred the t.i.tle of n.o.bility--how was Pranken to do otherwise than confide in the man!

Sonnenkamp on the contrary was undecided, and he was glad that Pranken was determining everything; it was no longer a question of will, all was settled and must proceed.

He looked through the coach-door every now and then, and put out his hand, as if he were going to lay hold of the handle, spring out and flee. What a bold game it was he was trying his hand at! He was angry with himself that, close upon the last critical moment, he allowed a feeling of apprehension to come over him. He could not help declaring to Pranken that he felt very much excited. Pranken thought this quite natural, for elevation to the n.o.bility is no small affair. And now, in the conversation that took place, Sonnenkamp discovered the cause of his timidity. Those Huguenots, mother, aunt, and son, with their double-distilled transcendental notions, had brought around him an element of weakness; it would be as well to throw them aside, politely, of course, but they must go their way, like instruments that have done their work, like paid-off workmen.

In this thought of casting something from him, there was a sense of power which restored him to himself once more.

It was not merely allowing others to act for him, he was an active agent himself; he let the puppets dance, for all men are puppets to him who knows how to govern them. He looked smilingly over at Pranken; this man, too, was his puppet now. He began to whistle merrily but inaudibly.

It was late in the evening when they reached the capital. Roland went to bed directly. Pranken took his leave, saying that he had to make a necessary call.

"Don't forget that you are a bridegroom," Sonnenkamp cried out after him with a laugh.

For the first time in his life was Pranken troubled by such a jest; it hurt him because it came from Manna's father, and because he was really going on an errand very serious and moral in its nature and object; he was going to the house of the Dean of the cathedral.

The house was in the garden behind the cathedral, hidden from the whole world, and amidst a quiet that was never broken by the bustle of the capital.

Pranken rang, a servant opened the door, and Pranken was not a little astonished at hearing himself instantly called by name. The servant was the soldier whom he had employed for some little time as an attendant.

He received Pranken's commission to inform him personally the next morning, at the Victoria Hotel, whether the Dean could receive him alone at eleven o'clock.

Pranken turned away, and he smiled, when, still thinking of his father-in-law's admonition, he stopped before a certain house. He knew it well, the pretty, quiet house that he himself had once furnished, the carpeted stairs, the banisters with their stuffed velvet, and everything so cosy, the bell up-stairs with its single note, the cool ante-chamber full of green plants, the parlor so cheerful, the carpets, and the furniture of the same pattern of silk throughout, a green ground and yellow garland. Pranken liked the national colors even here.

In the corner stands an alabaster angel holding in its hand a fresh bunch of flowers every day. Many a time too, the angel has to bear a woman's jaunty hat, and many a time too a man's hat. And then the door-curtains. Who is laughing behind them? No, he pa.s.ses on.

He stopped at a shop window with large panes of gla.s.s; when going to that cosy little house, he had always brought with him from this shop some trifle, some comical little thing--there are many new things of that kind in it now; he enters and purchases the very latest.

The young salesman looks at him inquiringly, Pranken nods and says:--

"You can show me everything."

And then the hidden treasures of the establishment are shown to him; he does not take anything, however, but says that he will make a purchase some other time, and goes off with his trifle.

No, it is only for a jest, for a farewell. He wishes simply to ask little Nelly what people are saying of him; he is vexed at his being troubled about the matter, and still he is tempted to make the inquiry.

He is not aware that he has rung--he goes up-stairs--he feels for the key in his pocket--he has quite forgotten that he hasn't one any more.

The door is opened, the maid looks at him with astonishment. n.o.body is in. A lamp of pale red gla.s.s is burning in the balcony room; the little alabaster statue is smiling; Pranken has another lamp brought to him; he will wait. He looks through the rooms, he recognizes the chairs, the sofas, everything is still as he had arranged it.

A perfume strange to him pervades the room; it must be the fashion now,--one always falls a little behind the times in the country.

The clock of the cathedral strikes, the theatre performances must be over. On the table lie photograph alb.u.ms; Pranken looks through them, he searches for his own picture; it is no longer there, but there are other faces that he does not know. He shuts the alb.u.ms.

There is a book lying on the table, too; flowers culled from the German poets "for women by a woman's hand." Pranken begins to read it. They are strange beings, these poets! He stands up by the fireplace, glowing coals are sparkling in it; but really there was no fire-place, and no glowing coals; for they never burned, but were always piled up in that way; fire-place and coals were only an elegant ornament of the room.

The cathedral clock strikes again; still no one comes. At length Pranken takes out his card, and leaves it on the bouquet which the alabaster statue holds in its hand; he leaves the place. It is better so. You have acted bravely, as you meant to do--of course.

He smiled at his virtue.

Pah! He would have to laugh and give a little play to his exuberance of spirit again one of these days; this everlasting morality begins to be tiresome. But Manna----

All at once Pranken felt a pang shoot through his heart, as if he had inflicted a wound on Manna.

He shook his head, and laughed outright at the childishness into which he had fallen. And still he could not shake off an impression, that at that hour something was happening to Manna; he knew not what it was, but the feeling possessed him.

He went on hurriedly.

The military club house was still brilliantly lighted, but Pranken pa.s.sed it by too. He turned back to the hotel. With great satisfaction he retired to rest without having again seen Sonnenkamp. He wanted to read a little while in the little book that was quite filled with a piny odor from the twig which lay in it; the twig was bare, but the falling leaves were preserved like a relic. But he could not endure the words of the book, he felt a certain awe of it to-night.

While Pranken was out in the town, Sonnenkamp grew discontented at being alone. He wanted to be with new people, live men, who could divert his thoughts. He sent for the Cabinetsrath.

The latter came soon, and Sonnenkamp sat down well pleased by his side, and asked what it meant that the Prince had not sent his patent, but chose to give it to him in person.

With much freedom and sarcasm, the Cabinetsrath ironically expressed his admiration of his gracious master, and described his character. He said that no one could really understand a ruler who wished to rule without advice, particularly in the exercise of that prerogative which had been allowed to remain in his hands without the interference of the Chamber of Deputies,--the conferring of orders and of n.o.bility.

Sonnenkamp heard with astonishment how the Prince designated everything as "mine"; my manufacturers, my university, my freemason lodge, my agriculturalists, my Chamber of Deputies. The Prince had the best will in the world, but he lived in continual fear of the democrats, communists and liberals, whom he cla.s.sed together; he was convinced, that every one who did not coincide with the government was a walking barricade from behind which shots might be fired at any moment. He would like to have everything go well with all men, and he had a very fine sentiment which a chamberlain had once composed for him, and which he brought out in moments of elevated feeling. If I knew that all men would be bettered by it, I would renounce the throne and do away with the civil-list. But as he was sure that all men would not be bettered by it, he could remain as he was, in quiet possession of both. He had two hobbies, the theatre and the welfare of the capital. He liked to have very wealthy people attracted to the capital, so that a good deal of money might be made out of them. And he had done a great thing, he had modified essentially the strict rules of ceremony; strangers who formerly were, without exception, debarred of the privilege of appearing at court, had access to it now, if they only spent a good deal of money in the city and were presented by their amba.s.sadors. The Prince does this out of a pure desire for the welfare of his people, for he called all the inhabitants of the capital "my people," even the unyielding democrats contained in it; they had unpleasant peculiarities, it is true; but they were still "my people."

The Prince took a special interest in Sonnenkamp, because he had been told that the latter was intending to build a large palace for his winter-residence in the capital in such a situation that it would be an ornament to the castle park, having it front on an avenue which at present led into a new part of the city. The Prince flattered himself that this would be of great benefit to his people.

The Cabinetsrath related, besides, that Sonnenkamp's affair had taken a particularly decisive turn in consequence of Clodwig's having, in the expression of his opinion, said that, aside from the injudiciousness of creating a new n.o.bility, it appeared doubtful to him whether German sovereigns individually possessed the right to do it. The Prince was beside himself at this remark of the old diplomat, whom he had always regarded as a concealed democrat; and so, partly in consequence of Clodwig's boldness, Sonnenkamp's affair was decided hastily and without further ado.

Sonnenkamp heard all this with delight, and the Cabinetsrath cautioned him expressly to remember that the Prince was really very modest, and not merely modest in words; he liked to say that he was not a man of genius, and it was very hard to find the best bearing to use towards him. The Prince was offended by the flattery, if any one praised him and combated his opinion of himself, and still it would not do to support him in his modesty. Sonnenkamp was advised to say as little as possible; he might exaggerate the apprehension he really felt: timidity would find favor with their gracious master, who was always secretly pleased at inspiring awe.

Sonnenkamp was quite calm once more. When the Cabinetsrath was gone, he rang, and ordered the newspaper. He read it entirely through, even the advertis.e.m.e.nts; this put him upon another course of thought. Again and again he read the official news at the head of the paper, official appointments, military promotions, and grants of pardon; such things were sprinkled along through the whole year after the grand distribution of orders was over. He was already thinking to himself how it would appear in that part of the paper in the morning, that His Highness had, in his graciousness, seen fit to elevate Herr James Sonnenkamp and his family, under the t.i.tle of Baron von Lichtenburg, to the hereditary dignity of n.o.bles. And, what was more, the newspaper of Professor Crutius must publish it.