The Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction - German - Part 43
Library

Part 43

"Of course you would have to yield in the land quarrel with the pastor," said Botho. "I knew Schonemann long ago at Sellenthin's."

"Yes, he was a tutor there and knew no better than to shorten the lesson hours and lengthen the recreation hours. And he could play grace-hoops like a young marquis; really, it was a pleasure to watch him. But now he has been seven years in orders and you would never know the Schonemann who used to pay court to the charming mistress of the house. But I must admit this, he educated both the young ladies well, especially your Katherine...."

Botho glanced timidly at his uncle, almost as if to beg him to be discreet. But the old Baron, delighted to have seized upon so favorable an opportunity to enter on his favorite theme, went on in exuberant and ever-increasing good humor: "There, there, Botho. Discretion. Nonsense!

Wedell is from our region and must know the story just as well as anyone else. Why should we keep silence about such things? You are already as good as bound. And G.o.d knows, young man, when I pa.s.s the young girls in review, you cannot find a better--teeth like pearls, and she is always laughing so that you can see the whole row. A flaxen blonde to tempt your kisses, and if I were only thirty years younger, I declare ..."

Wedell, who noticed Botho's confusion, tried to come to his aid and said: "The Sellenthin ladies are all very pleasing, the mother as well as the daughters; last summer I met them in Norderney, and they were charming, but I would prefer the second...."

"So much the better, Wedell. You will not come into any conflict and we can celebrate a double wedding. And Schonemann may be sure that if Kluckhuhn, who is touchy like all old people, agrees, I will not only put a spoke in his wheel, but I will give up the strip of parsonage land to him without further ado if I can see such a wedding within the year. You are rich, dear Wedell, and there is really no haste about you. But look at our friend Botho. That he looks so well nourished is no thanks to his sandy wastes, which, excepting a couple of meadows, are really nothing but a nursery of young pines, and still less to his eel pond. 'Eel pond,' sounds wonderful, you might almost say poetic.

But that is all. One cannot live on eels. I know you do not like to hear about this, but so long as we are on the subject, I may as well come out with it. How do matters stand, then? Your grandfather had the timber cut down and your late father--a capital fellow, but I never saw anyone play the man of affairs so poorly and so expensively too--your late father, I say, divided up the five hundred acres of eastern farming-land among the Jeseritz peasants, and there is not much good land left, and the thirty thousand thalers are long since gone. If you were alone, it might do, but you must share with your brother, and at present the mamma, my sister Liebden, has the whole still in her hands, an admirable woman, clever and skilful, but she does not err on the saving side. Botho, what is the use of belonging to the Imperial Cuira.s.siers and what is the use of having a rich cousin, who is only waiting for you to come and seal and ratify by a formal proposal what your parents had already agreed upon when you were still children? Why consider longer? Listen, if I could go to your mother to-morrow on my return and bring her the news: 'Dear Josephine, Botho consents; everything is arranged,' listen, boy, that would be something for an old uncle who means well by you to rejoice over. Speak to him, Wedell.

It is time that he should quit this bachelor life. Otherwise he will squander his bit of property or get caught by some little bourgeoise.

Am I right? Naturally. Done! And we must drink to the happy event. But not with these dregs...." And he rang the bell. "A bottle of Heidsieck.

The best brand."

CHAPTER VIII

At about this same time there were at the club two young cavaliers, one of them, who was tall, slender and smooth-faced, belonged to the Gardes du Corps; the other, who was somewhat shorter, and had a full beard with only the regulation smooth chin, had been dismissed from the Pasewalkern. The white damask table cloth, which remained from their breakfast, had been turned back and the two were playing piquet on the bare half of the table.

"Six cards and four of a kind."

"Very well."

"And you?"

"Fourteen aces, three kings, three queens.... And you don't make a trick." And he laid his hand on the table and then pushed all the cards together while his companion shuffled.

"Did you know that Ella is about to be married?"

"What a pity!"

"Why a pity?"

"She can't jump through the hoop any more."

"Nonsense. The more they are married the slenderer they grow."

"Yet there are exceptions. Many names belonging to the aristocracy of the circus already appear in the third and fourth generation, which seems to point to some alternation of a slender and a stouter form, or if you like, to the new moon, the first quarter, &c."

"You are mistaken. _Error in calculo_. You forget that there may be adoptions. All these circus people are secretly 'Gichtelianer' and pa.s.s on their property, their rank and their names according to agreement.

They seem the same and yet they are different. There is always fresh blood. Cut.... Besides that I have another bit of news. Afzelius is to join the General Staff."

"Which do you mean?"

"The one who belongs to the Uhlans."

"Impossible."

"Moltke values him highly and he must have done some excellent work."

"He does not impress me. It was all an affair of hunting libraries and plagiarizing. Any one who is a trifle ingenious can turn out books like Humboldt or Ranke."

"Four of a kind. Fourteen aces."

"Five sequence to king."

And while the trick was being played, one could hear from the billiard room near by the sound of the b.a.l.l.s and the falling of the little pins.

In the two back rooms of the club, the narrow side of which looked out on a sunny but tiresome garden, there were in all only six or eight men, all silent, all more or less absorbed in their whist or dominoes, and not the least absorbed were the two men who had just been talking about Ella and Afzelius. The game ran high, and so the two did not look up until they saw, through an open curved niche, a new-comer approaching from the next room. It was Wedell.

"But Wedell, if you don't bring us a lot of news, we will excommunicate you."

"Pardon, Serge, there was no definite agreement."

"But almost. For the rest, you will find me personally in the most accommodating mood. How you can settle things with Pitt, who has just lost 150 points, is your affair."

Thereupon the two men pushed the cards aside and the young man whom Wedell had greeted as Serge took out his watch and said: "Quarter past three. Time for coffee. Some philosopher, and he must have been one of the greatest, once said that the best thing about coffee was that it was always suitable under all circ.u.mstances and at all times of day.

Truly that was a wise saying. But where shall we take it? I think we had better sit outside on the terrace, right in the sun. The more one braves the weather the better one fares. Here, Pehlecke, three cups. I cannot listen to the falling of the pins any longer. It makes me nervous; outside, indeed, there is noise too, but it is different, and instead of the sharp strokes, we shall hear the rumbling and thundering of the underground railway, and we can imagine that we are on Vesuvius or aetna. And why not? All pleasures are in the last a.n.a.lysis imaginary, and whoever has the best imagination enjoys the most pleasure. Only unreality gives value and is actually the only reality."

"Serge," said the man who had been addressed as Pitt at the piquet table, "if you go on with your famous wise sayings, you will punish Wedell more severely than he deserves. Besides, you must have some mercy on me because I have been losing. So, we will stay here, with the lawn behind us, this ivy near us, and a view of a bare wall. A heavenly location for his Majesty's guards! What would old Prince Puckler have said to this club garden? Pehlecke, here, bring the table here, that will do. And, to finish with, you may bring us some of your very best lager. And now, Wedell, if you want to win forgiveness, give your cloak a shake, and see if you cannot shake a new war or some other big piece of news out of it. You are related to G.o.d in heaven through the Puttkamers. With which branch I need not say. What more is he brewing?"

"Pitt," said Wedell, "I beg you, don't ask me any questions about Bismarck. For in the first place, you know that I know nothing about such matters, because cousins in the seventeenth degree are not precisely the intimates and confidants of princes, and in the second place, I come, instead of from the Prince, direct from a shooting match where with a few hits and many, many misses, no other than his Highness was the target."

"And who was this bold shot?"

"The old Baron Osten, Rienacker's uncle. A charming old gentleman and a good fellow. But of course a sly dog also."

"Like all Markers."

"I am one myself."

"_Tant mieux_. Then you know all about it yourself. But out with it.

What did the old fellow say?"

"A good many things. His political talk was hardly worth reporting, but another bit of news was all the more important: Rienacker has a sharp corner to turn."

"And what corner?"

"He is about to marry."

"And you call that a sharp corner to turn? I beg to disagree with you, Wedell; Rienacker stands in a much more difficult position: he has 9000 marks a year and spends 12000, and that is the sharpest of all corners, at least sharper than the marriage corner. Marriage is no danger for Rienacker, but a rescue. For that matter, I have seen it coming. And who is it then?"

"A cousin!"

"Naturally. A rescuer and a cousin are almost identical terms at present. And I will wager that her name is Paula. All cousins are named Paula these days."