CHAPTER III.

THE VILLAGE SCHOOL.

When Johannes left Ernestine, he turned his steps towards the village.

He was as if inspired by the consciousness that his was a part to play that falls to the lot of few men in this world,--to promote his own happiness in watching over and caring for the happiness of another. He walked on with the firm, elastic tread that belongs to a strong man in the bloom of youth, and wherever his glance fell it scattered seeds of the kindliness which was reflected in the smile that greeted him upon every face that he met. He took his way towards a little vine-clad cottage in which dwelt the patriarch of the place,--the village schoolmaster. Before the door stood Hilsborn's vehicle, while a fat old mastiff was barking incessantly at the horse, who pawed impatiently, and never seemed to perceive that the dog was evidently only fulfilling an irksome duty, and was not actuated by the slightest feeling of hostility. Johannes stroked, in pa.s.sing, his broad, bristling back, a caress not unkindly received, and then entered the house, whose hospitable roof was so low that he was obliged to stoop as he crossed the threshold, lest he should brush his forehead against the bunches of unripe grapes that hung down over the lintel. He pa.s.sed through the little, dark hall, and entered the dwelling-room. There he found Hilsborn sitting with the schoolmaster upon one of the low, broad window-seats, while the schoolmaster's old wife, Brigitta, sat knitting upon the other. The schoolmaster was a spare, elderly man, with long gray hair, and eyes in whose uncertain depths that ominous white spot could be perceived that is the arch-enemy of light.

"Aha! the Herr Professor," said the old man, rising to greet Johannes.

"We thought you had been enchanted in the Haunted Castle, and would never come back to us again."

"You may not have been so very far wrong," said Johannes, shaking the offered hand.

"Yes, you have kept us waiting well!" observed Hilsborn.

"Brigitta, dear, will you make ready for us? These gentlemen will perhaps do us the pleasure of sharing with us our mid-day meal,--it will be about the time for their luncheon," said the schoolmaster to his wife, who had arisen when Johannes entered, and was awaiting this hint to withdraw. Johannes and Hilsborn declined the proffered hospitality, but Frau Brigitta had already left the room. As the door closed behind her, the old man grew very grave. "Herr Professor," he began, and his voice was a little hoa.r.s.e, and his hands trembled slightly, "now we are alone,--now I pray you tell me the truth. I would not ask you while my wife was here,--for I would spare her unhappiness as long as possible. But I must and will know, for the future of my son is at stake. Is it not true, Herr Professor, that you have no hope of saving my eyes?"

Hilsborn made no reply. His compa.s.sionate heart withheld him from so utterly destroying the old man's hopes in life. In his indecision, he exchanged a glance with Johannes, which the old man observed.

"Oh, my dear sir, that look, which I could see in spite of my increasing blindness, speaks to me as plainly as your silence. I have long had no hope myself. A year ago, when my eyes were so inflamed, I expected the catastrophe would occur from which your skill has so long saved me. The question now is--can my eyes be operated upon?"

Hilsborn hesitated again. He could not in honour delude the worthy man with false hopes only to have them so bitterly crushed in the future, and yet--who with a heart in his breast could tell the sad truth to that face of anxious inquiry? "I cannot give you a decided answer at present," he said at last with some effort.

The patient man clasped his hands entreatingly, and his dim eyes strove to read Hilsborn's countenance. "Do not believe, Herr Professor, that it would be kind to deceive me. If I now know that I am incurable, I can do instantly what would be difficult later,--take my son immediately from the University and train him to be my successor here.

You can understand that if I am disabled I can no longer provide for the continuance of his academic course, and that it is best that the young man should learn as soon as possible the destruction of his hopes, that he may reconcile himself to resigning the lecture-room for the school-room. I know how hard it will be, for I was just entering upon a scientific career when I was excluded from it by my father's early death. And let me tell you that if my son bears this blow well, I have nothing more to fear." His voice faltered as he uttered these last words. He was conscious of it, and was silent,--unwilling to betray his emotion.

Johannes and Hilsborn stood for one moment, not knowing what to reply.

They could not console the unhappy father by the a.s.surance that he would need no subst.i.tute. They well knew how important it was that what the conscientious old man proposed should be done. At last Hilsborn said, with characteristic gentleness, "If you wish to make sure of a subst.i.tute in case of the worst, it is best that you should do so as soon as possible, as in the event of undergoing an operation you would be unable to work for a long time, and, besides, I cannot answer for the result."

"Thank you, kind sir. You have told me the truth, and now I know enough," said the schoolmaster, wiping his eyes with a coa.r.s.e, gaily-printed cotton handkerchief.

"Have I not often told you," said Hilsborn, "that you never ought to touch your eyes except with linen cambric?"

"True! true!" said the pale, troubled man, forcing a smile, "but where am I to procure such a luxury?"

"Why, your lady at the castle should give it to you," said Hilsborn.

"She would do so willingly, I am sure, but I could not make up my mind to so bold a request; for, since the other villagers have treated her so badly, she has avoided us also; and I fear she has visited us with some of the indignation that she must feel at the shameful insults she has received."

"Well, then, I will ask for you," cried Johannes. "I will go back to the castle, and you shall have what you require in a few moments."

As he spoke, Frau Brigitta entered, with a bottle of wine and the soup.

Her good old face beamed with delight at the opportunity of offering her hospitality to such honoured guests. Her husband seized the gentlemen's hands, while she was busied with laying the table, and whispered, "Promise me, I beg you, that you will not mention what you have told me to any one, that my poor wife may be allowed to enjoy all the hope that she can for the future."

"We promise you," was the grave reply.

"May I be permitted to offer the gentlemen some slight refreshment?"

asked Brigitta with old-fashioned formality; for etiquette in the country is like the fashion of dress, which follows at a long distance the fashion of the city,--so that a form of polite expression is used in the country long after it has ceased to be _bon genre_ in town. And yet there is something touching in all those old-time phrases and customs that we remember as used by our grandparents and great-aunts and uncles. They suggest so vividly the images of the departed, and bring back the memories of childhood. Who has not in early childhood seen some old aunt or grandmother, upon refusing a fifth cup of coffee, turn the cup upside down in the saucer and lay the spoon carefully upon it? And when, twenty or thirty years after, we see some country pastor's or schoolmaster's wife go through the same ceremony, does not the dear old form, long ago laid at rest in the grave, rise before us to check the smile upon our lips? Who cannot remember as a child the friendly sympathy that greeted a satisfactory sneeze? And when, a quarter of a century later, some kindly country soul hails such an occurrence with a cordial "G.o.d bless you!" does it not seem as if we must reply as formerly, "Thanks, dear grandmamma," and are we not homesick for a moment for our good old grandmother? Such was the impression made upon the young men by the kindly formality, the officious hospitality, of the schoolmaster's good old wife.

"I pray you honour us by tasting our poor meal," she said, as she put a coa.r.s.e thick napkin of her own spinning upon each plate.

After the conversation that they had just had with the unfortunate husband, the two young men had little appet.i.te for eating or drinking; but they would not refuse the old woman's kindly hospitality, and therefore seated themselves at the clumsy table. For one moment there was a silence so profound that the tick of the death-watch in the bench by the stove could be plainly heard. Then the schoolmaster poured out the wine. His hand trembled slightly, and he was obliged to take care lest any of it should be spilled; for he could not see well when the gla.s.ses were full. Then, holding up his own gla.s.s, he said cheerily, "Long life to you, gentlemen, and to our n.o.ble German science! I drink to you."

They clinked their gla.s.ses; but it cut Hilsborn to the very soul to think that the science which their good old host was so lauding should have been so cruel a prophet to him a few minutes before. Johannes, too, looked down at the winegla.s.s in his hand, and the drops that he tasted from it were bitter to swallow.

"Come, good wife, clink your gla.s.s with mine," said the old man to Frau Brigitta. "My wife is very fond of a little drop of wine," he said to his guests; "but we never indulge in it except when we have such honoured guests as sit around our table to-day."

"And why not?" asked Hilsborn.

"Because it tastes so much better when there are others here to enjoy it with us," was the simple, smiling answer.

"But you ought to take more of it," said Johannes. "This good old wine is excellent for you; it is a tonic."

The old man looked sadly at the few drops which he had poured out for himself, and with which he had only moistened his lips. "You forget that I have been for a long time forbidden to take wine, on account of my eyes."

"My poor husband!" said his wife, sadly stroking his hollow cheeks. "He has to deny himself so much."

Johannes and Hilsborn exchanged glances, and then the latter said, "I reverse that prohibition, Herr Leonhardt. Take a good gla.s.s of wine whenever you feel inclined. It cannot harm your eyes as much as it will improve your general health."

"Thank G.o.d!" cried his wife rejoiced. "That proves how much better you are."

"Or how much worse," Leonhardt said in Latin to Hilsborn, with a grave look. Then, turning tenderly to his wife, he slowly emptied his gla.s.s, whispering to her, "Long live our Walter!"

The old woman nodded delightedly. "Our good boy! if he only had his degree!"

Leonhardt clasped his hands with a deep sigh. "That is all that I ask of G.o.d."

"Are you speaking of your son?" cried the gentlemen. "Then let us join you. May he live to be the delight and prop of your old age!"

"He is a very talented young man," added Johannes. "His essay was declared the best after Fraulein von Hartwich's."

"Indeed!" said the schoolmaster. "I am glad to hear it. Ah, the Fraulein is fortunate. She has everything necessary for her studies,--books and apparatus. There is hardly such another private laboratory and library in the country."

Johannes looked surprised. "Indeed! how do you know that?"

"My son has, during his studies, also perfected himself as a mechanic, for he says it is a great advantage for a naturalist, and Fraulein von Hartwich, hearing of it accidentally, intrusted him with some repairs of her furniture, and then he saw what treasures she possessed."

Johannes looked thoughtful. "Hm! as far as I know, Fraulein von Hartwich's income is by no means so large as to allow of such extravagant expenditure. Her uncle may have permitted his ward to encroach upon her capital; it would only be a fresh proof of his want of principle."

After a short pause, he turned to the schoolmaster.--"Herr Leonhardt, answer me one question. If a man wishes to rid a country of a dangerous wild animal, is it best to track him to his den by cunning, that he may be safely overcome there, or to startle him with loud noise and frighten him off, so that he either escapes or has time to prepare to defend himself?"

The schoolmaster looked puzzled. "Why, a prudent man would surely pursue the first course."

"I think so too. Well, Herr Leonhardt, I mean to track Doctor Leuthold Gleissert to his hiding-place. I am persuaded that this man is a thorough scoundrel, but I can bring no proof that I judge him correctly. Until I have collected such proof, which can only be done quietly and with caution, I cannot proceed against him openly. I need your a.s.sistance, Herr Leonhardt, for you know more than all of us concerning this man and his proceedings. Give me, if you can, some tangible cause for accusing him, that I may succeed in delivering that rare creature, his niece, from his clutches."

"I will do my best," said Leonhardt. "But he lives so retired that I shall hardly be able to procure any important information for you. The only thing that I can observe is the names of his correspondents; for, as there is no post-office in the village, I have a post-drawer in my house, which the post-boy empties in my room. So that I can easily learn to whom all Doctor Gleissert's letters are addressed. Perhaps that may be of use to you."