Waldfried Part 24

Joseph remarked, "One should indeed always have an enemy, in order to find out what criticism and explanation our deeds may be subjected to."

Joseph was a burgomaster. The game-keeper came to report to him.

My very heart trembled with fear, and I felt ashamed of myself in the presence of the game-keeper.

He had the description and order of arrest for my son in his pocket.

One does not find how far and how deep honor has spread its roots, until it is lost.

Unrest, the most hateful demon in the world, had been conjured up in our house.

Now that our pride was broken, we at last noticed how proud we had been.

One day, when walking through the village, I met the perjured baker, Lerz of Hollerberg. He extended his hand to me in a friendly manner.

Did he regard me as one of his equals? I withdrew my hand.

He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and went on his way.

The first neighbor who visited me was Baron Arven, who lives about a mile and a half from our house.

I believe I have not yet referred to this man. His dignified and quiet demeanor betokened a really brave and n.o.ble character. He was just what he seemed to be--free from all pretence or deceit.

I must add a few words in regard to his family. Following the bent of most of the dwellers in our part of the country, he had gone down the Danube and had entered the Austrian army. He afterward left the service and returned to the family estate, bringing with him a wife who was a native of Bohemia, and who held but little intercourse with the neighborhood. Her only familiar companions were the clergy.

The Bishop had stopped there on two occasions while making his pastoral journeys.

She led a life of seclusion in the castle, or rather the convent; for the estate on which they lived had, at one time, belonged to a religious order.

The Baron had two sons, splendid fellows, who were serving in the cavalry. He is a member of our upper chamber. He is a man of but few words, but always votes with the moderate liberals.

He has no respect for the people; their coa.r.s.e morals and manners are repugnant to him. He does not deny that mankind in general have equal rights; but, as individuals, he would only accord them such consideration as their education, their means, or their social position would ent.i.tle them to. In this respect he is a thorough aristocrat.

The farmers speak of him with love and veneration, although he is never friendly towards them. He is very active as the President of our Agricultural a.s.sociation. He has the finest cattle and the best machines, and his special hobby is to stock the many woodland streams and lakes of our vicinity with fish.

He is pa.s.sionately fond of the chase and of fishing, and possesses the art of getting through with his day in the most approved and knightly manner. Rautenkron acts as his forest-keeper.

That very day, the Baron came riding along, followed by his two fine, large dogs. He alighted at Joseph's house and saluted Annette, with whom he had become acquainted at the capital, for he spent several months there with his family every winter. The family of Von Arven owned an old mansion in the city.

He came up to me, offered me his hand in silence, and seated himself.

I could not help thinking of some words from the Book of Job, that had always so deeply affected me: "And none spake a word unto him, for they saw that his grief was very great."

"My dear neighbor," he at last said, "I see that you, too, have been highly a.s.sessed in the impost of misfortune that every one of us must pay. I shall spare you any words of attempted consolation, and only add that there are thousands who would like to do just as your son has done."

And then, in his calm and collected tone, he spoke of this horrid war, in which Germans were fighting against each other. Napoleon's darling hope was that Austria and Prussia might mutually weaken each other, so that he might be the master and the arbiter of peace, and could then dictate his own terms. Arven had at one time been an Austrian officer, and was naturally not partial to Prussia. He had an inborn aversion to Northern harshness; but with his knowledge of the organization of the Austrian armies, he felt free to say that Prussia would be victorious.

Although both of his sons were in our army, he said this with great calmness.

The Baron's presence exerted a gentle, soothing influence on our household. When I told my wife that he had expressed a wish to speak with her, she came into the room; and when the two were conversing with each other, it was like a beautiful song of mourning.

The Baron's presence always produced a subdued tone, an atmosphere of quiet refinement--an influence like a subtile, pleasing perfume lingered in the room long after he had taken his departure.

And now, when he was conversing with my wife, she gave utterance to thoughts that otherwise we might never have become acquainted with.

When conversing with strangers, she revealed far more of her pure and elevated views of the world than when she was with us alone.

Shortly after the Baron's departure, we were visited by Counsellor Reckingen, who came over from the city to see us. He usually lived in strict seclusion from the world. While sailing on Lake Constance, he had lost his young wife. He had plunged in after her, and had succeeded in reaching the bank with her, only to find that life had fled. Since that time, he had lived in solitude, devoting himself to the education of the little daughter who was left to him.

Under these circ.u.mstances, I could not but appreciate his kindness in paying me this visit.

He seemed to have become quite unused to conversation. He said but little, and soon went out into the garden in front of our house, in order to plant some rose-slips that he had brought with him.

I was greatly gratified by the visit of a deputation of my const.i.tuents. It consisted of three esteemed farmer-burgomasters of the neighborhood. They made no allusion to the grief which had befallen me; our conversation referred only to the war; and when Martella brought in wine, they looked at the child with curious eyes.

CHAPTER VI.

Ought we to bear the blame of our son Ernst's having wandered from the right path?

By our example and precept we have guided our children in the path of virtue, but who can control their souls? I have caused many a fallow soil to bear fruit, and up on the bleak hills have raised st.u.r.dy trees.

Nature's law is unchanging; but if not even a tree can mature without harm coming to it, how much less can a human soul be expected to do so.

We have lived to see naught but what is good and proper in our son Richard. His development is so natural and consistent. In his earliest youth, he decided to devote himself to science. He has steadily advanced, swerving neither to the right nor the left, and has always been full of the conscious power of the clear and temperate mind that grasps the laws underlying the phenomena presented by the world of thought and of action.

We can neither take credit to ourselves, in the one instance, nor acknowledge that we were in fault in the other.

My wife had been true to herself, and yet full of resignation in the first shock of this bitter grief; but now there came an insurmountable desire to quarrel with her lot, and the puzzling question, "Why should this happen just to us?" was again awakened.

I dislike to admit it, but truth forces me to say that this was brought about by the arrival of my daughter Johanna.

Johanna also had her troubles. Her husband was sickly, her son was in the army, and she seemed chosen for suffering; but chosen by reason of a higher faith. With inconsiderate zeal, she attempted to awaken the same faith in us. At that very moment, she thought, when we were crushed and bowed down by sorrow, our redemption should take place. She a.s.signed the impiety of our household as the cause of our son's disobedience.

The education which my wife had received from her father was, as some would call it, a heathen one; for she had received more instruction from the cla.s.sics than from the Bible.

We were seated in our statue gallery. The door that led to the garden was open; my wife had been eagerly reading from a book, which she now laid aside with the remark, "That does one good."

"What were you reading?" inquired Johanna.

My wife made no answer, and Johanna repeated her question, when she said, "I have been reading the Antigone of Sophocles, and I find that I am right."

"In what respect?"

"It has renewed my recollection of an idea of my father's. When I was reading the Antigone aloud to him for the first time, he said, If a woman acted in this way, she would be doing right; but a brother should not have done so. With a sister, or with a mother, the natural law of love of kindred is above that of the state, which would have treated the brother as a traitor to his country. And in this lies the deeply tragic element--that innocence and guilt are so closely interwoven, and that two considerations are battling with each other. You men may pa.s.s judgment on Ernst; you require unconditional submission to the lawful authorities. You are right, because you are men of the law. But, with Antigone, I rest myself upon that higher law which is far above all laws that states may frame!

"'It lives neither for to-day nor for yesterday, but for all time, And none can know since when.'

"This book is to me a sacred one."

"Mother!" cried Johanna, with a voice trembling with emotion, "mother, how can you say that, while I here have the only sacred book in my hand?"