"That is what I thought. And now just think, _cher baron_, the man is a fellow of low birth, not n.o.ble at all; his name is Stein, Doctor Stein, I believe, and he is--well, guess again!"

"From the horror in your face I should conclude that he was the son of the executioner of Bergen."

"Executioner! _Quelle idee!_ What strange notions you and Frau von Berkow always have! No--tutor at Grenwitz. Is not that wonderful?"

"I do not see anything wonderful in that. There must be tutors in the world, as there must be laborers in the a.r.s.enic mines, although I should not like to be the one or the other."

"But the fellow looks almost genteel?"

"Almost genteel? My dear friend, he looks not only almost genteel, but extremely genteel, more so than any gentleman in the whole company, you and myself not excepted."

"Ah, baron, you are again in your divine humor to-day."

"Do you think so? Well, I am glad of it. But that does not prevent me from thinking the man genteel; and, what is probably of still greater value in your eyes, he has not only the air of a well-bred man about him, as we find it in any nation on earth, but he has the particular type of the n.o.bility of this region."

"Oh, I thought typhus was a disease!"

"Typus, _mon cher_, not typhus. Type means, when several people have the same nose, boots, eyes, and gloves. Now, look for yourself, if all that does not agree in Doctor Stein; for instance, in comparison with yourself, for surely you have everything that is characteristic in our n.o.bility most highly developed. He is tall and well made, like yourself, only half a head taller, and a few inches broader in the shoulders. He has the same light brown, curly hair, only you have your hair curled by the hair-dresser, and his curls naturally. He has blue eyes like yourself, and you must admit that his eyes are large and expressive."

"Ah, yes--I admit, he is a deuced handsome fellow," said the dandy, angrily, casting a sidelong glance at the object of his forced admiration.

"Well, and as to his manners," continued Oldenburg, "I would give one of my farms if I could move with the same dignity and the same gracefulness."

"That is strong--why?"

"Because the women love dearly to see such a small foot, a well-shaped leg, and so forth. Such pretty dolls like the doctor are born Alexanders; they fly from one conquest to another, and generally die young at Babylon."

"Ah, baron, what a man you would be if you were not so furiously learned."

"Do you think so? May be! I have inherited that disease. It was my mother's fault; she used to read the racing almanac and many a novel besides. That explains the bad features in my character."

"Gentlemen, would you like to try my new pistols?" asked their host, who came up just then.

"I thought there would be dancing?" said Cloten.

"After dinner. You are coming, Oldenburg?"

"Of course. You know my motto: _Aux armes, citoyens._"

CHAPTER XXIII.

The company had all a.s.sembled, and were gradually finding their way from the close rooms into the garden, where the superb afternoon attracted them all. The elderly ladies and gentlemen walked up and down in the shady avenues, or inspected the superb greenhouses; the younger people tried to arrange games on a beautiful lawn, which was partly overshadowed by old, broad-branching trees; and from a corner in the park, where a shooting-gallery had been improvised, firing was heard at intervals. Melitta remembered the adage, that the reputation of young women is made by old women, and thought that as she intended to enjoy a certain degree of liberty at the ball, she had better pay for it now by a few small sacrifices; she joined therefore a party of old ladies, the Countess Grieben, the Baroness Trantow, and others. Oswald had at first joined the young people, to whom Langen had introduced him, and had helped to arrange some games which he had known in the capital, and which he adapted skilfully to the exigencies of the day. The company had met his suggestions with universal applause, and he was on the high way of becoming eminently popular. But when he saw that Melitta would not join the circle in which he was, he availed himself of a suitable opportunity to escape. Langen had followed him, and overtook him in a narrow path between two rows of bushes, where Oswald enjoyed the innocent pleasure of picking gooseberries.

"G.o.d be thanked!" said Langen, following Oswald's example and plundering a currant-bush, which hung full of blood-red cl.u.s.ters. "We have escaped that horror! Curses be upon the man who invented social games! Are the gooseberries ripe?"

"Delicious!"

"You must pay me a visit soon. My estate is only an hour or so from Grenwitz. My wife, who has presented me a few weeks ago with a beauty of a little girl, and who is not yet strong enough to go to large parties, will be glad to make your acquaintance. If you will fix a day, I will send my carriage for you."

"I accept your invitation with pleasure," said Oswald, who was almost put to shame by this extraordinary kindness on the part of a man from that cla.s.s which he denounced so severely. "Suppose we say next Sunday?"

"You are always welcome. If you would like to bring the boys, do so; I have a couple of ponies, which the boys will like better than Nepos and Ovid together.--Ah me! _Incidit in Scyllam qui vult vitare Charybdim!_ There comes the Countess Grieben at the head of her staff. _Sauve qui peut!_"

The young men slipped into another garden walk which crossed the first at right angles, and were soon beyond the reach of the ladies' eyes.

Oswald, for his part, would have liked to stay, for he had noticed Melitta in the "staff," and had hoped to catch a look in pa.s.sing; but he considered it his duty not to abandon his new friend, who had shown himself so very amiable during the whole afternoon.

"You do not seem to be very fond of society. Baron Langen," he said, smiling at the hurry of the young man.

"That society--no! I was brought up in almost absolute solitude. My father, who is not very wealthy, sacrified society to the interest of his children. Then I was sent to school. I should have liked to go to a university, but my father needed me on the farm, especially as he grew older and could not do as much as formerly himself. Since then my good father has left us, and I have hardly ever been away from the _paterna rura_. Are you anything of a sportsman?"

"No; I have never yet had an opportunity to cultivate the Nimrod talent, which no doubt is quietly slumbering somewhere in my nature."

"Oh! that is a pity. But that will come. We have excellent sport: wild-fowl and hares. You ought at first to practise a little with the pistol. One learns to take aim and to have a steady hand."

"Well, pistol-shooting I have practised perhaps too much in my life,"

replied Oswald. "My father, a teacher of languages and a very peaceful man, had a real pa.s.sion for pistol-shooting; it was his only amus.e.m.e.nt.

He shot as I have never seen anybody shoot, with marvellous skill. I have never found out what could have given him such a pa.s.sion for it.

Once I thought I would ask him about it. I shall never forget the tone in which he answered; 'There was a time when I hoped I should be able to kill a man who had mortally offended _him_. When I was perfectly sure of my aim--the man died. Since then I fancy I am firing at him; every ace of spades which my ball hits is his false, cruel heart.' I begged him to give me the name of the man. 'That I cannot do,' he answered; 'but if you choose to have your share in my feelings--take it for granted that the ace of spades is the heart of some n.o.bleman or other.'"

"_Mon Dieu!_" said Langen; "and have you really inherited this fanatic hatred against my caste from your father?"

"Only partially," said Oswald, "as I have only inherited a part of his skill in pistol-shooting.--Shall we go for a moment to the stand? I judge from the sound we must be quite near."

"Bravo, bravo!" cried a number of voices from there; "Cloten, I bet on you."

"I bet on Breesen," said another voice.

They found at the stand half a dozen gentlemen perhaps, all greatly excited, with the exception of Baron Oldenburg, who, leaning against his tree, and his hands in his pockets, looked at the marksmen and hummed stanzas from the Ma.r.s.eillaise through his teeth.

"Bravo, Cloten. Again the bull's-eye--the fellow shoots like the devil!" cried several voices.

"Has anybody else a desire to bet?" said Cloten, looking all around with a wonderfully self-complacent air.

"I should like to bet, if you please," said Oswald.

"You?" said the dandy, with a look of speechless surprise.

"I bet a sovereign on the gentleman," said Oldenburg, grinning. "Who will take it?"

"Done! Done!" cried several voices.

"I take it all!" said Oldenburg, who seemed to enjoy the joke of the thing highly.

"Our bets have been a dollar so far--does that suit you?" said Cloten to Oswald.