The Lost Manuscript Part 103

The Doctor went away. Raschke forgot Aristotle, and meditated anxiously on the treachery of the Magister. Whilst so doing, there was a knock, and Struvelius, with Flaminia, stood at the open door.

Raschke greeted them, called his wife, begged them to sit down, and quite forgot that he was in his Turkish dressing-gown.

"We come with one wish," began Flaminia, solemnly. "It is with respect to our colleague Werner. My husband will impart to you what has moved us both deeply."

Raschke started up from his chair. Struvelius, whose emotion was only visible in his bristly hair, began: "We were called yesterday to the police-station. When the brother of Magister Knips fled to America, his things were taken possession of on the application of petty creditors, and as the greater portion of his effects were at his mother's house, they were taken away from there. Amongst them were utensils and portfolios which evidently did not belong to the fugitive, but to his brother; one of those portfolios contained tracings after the style of ma.n.u.scripts, unfinished attempts to imitate old writings, and written parchment sheets. The officials had been surprised at these, and requested me to inspect them. It appeared upon closer observation that the Magister had long been occupied in acquiring the skill of imitating the characters of the Middle Ages. And from the fragments I have found in the portfolio, there can be no doubt that he has other forgeries in his collection, some of which answer exactly to that parchment strip."

"That is enough, Struvelius," began his wife. "Now let me speak. You may imagine, dear colleague, that Werner at once occurred to us, and that we were greatly alarmed lest the husband of our friend should get into trouble through the deceiver. I asked Struvelius to write Professor Werner, but he preferred to inform him through you. This method also appeared most satisfactory to me."

Raschke, without saying a word, took off his dressing-gown, and ran in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves about the room, searching in all the corners. At last he found his hat, which he put on.

"What are you about, Raschke!" exclaimed his wife.

"Why do you ask?" he said, hastily; "there is no time for delay. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Struvelius," he said observing his sleeves, and again put on his dressing-gown, but in his excitement he still kept on his hat, and thus attired, seated himself opposite his friends. Bertha, at a sign from her mother, gently took his hat off.

"A quick decision is necessary in this case," he repeated.

"There is no reason," continued Struvelius, "for withholding the property of the Magister from his mother; but, meanwhile, they would willingly allow you an inspection of the writings."

"That I do not wish," exclaimed Raschke; "it would spoil the day for me. Your judgment, Struvelius, satisfies me."

There was some further excited interchange of views, and the visitors left. Again Raschke rushed stormily about, so that the skirts of his dressing-gown flew over the chairs.

"Dear Aurelia, do not be frightened; I have made up my mind. I shall set out to-morrow."

Mrs. Raschke clasped her hands together.

"What are you thinking of, Raschke?"

"It is necessary," he said. "I despair of shaking the firm views of Werner by letter. My duty is to try whether persuasive words and detailed representations will have greater effect. I must know in what relation my friend stands to the Magister. From certain intimations of the Doctor, I fear the worst from the activity of the forger. I have a short vacation before me, and I cannot employ it better."

"But, Raschke, you wish to travel!" asked his wife, reproachfully. "How can you engage in such an undertaking?"

"You mistake me, Aurelia; in our city I sometimes do lose my bearings, but in foreign parts I always find my way."

"Because you have never yet been alone in foreign parts," replied the prudent wife.

Raschke approached her, and raised his hand warningly.

"Aurelia, it is for our friend, and one must pay no regard to trifles."

"You will never get there," rejoined his wife, with sad foreboding.

"It is much easier to speed through half the world in a secure vessel than to go on two legs through our streets; half acquaintances are the most unreliable."

"Then the money for the journey, Raschke?" whispered Mrs. Aurelia, in a low voice, that the children might not hear.

"You have in your linen cupboard an old black savings-box," replied Raschke, slily. "Do you think I know nothing of it?"

"What I have collected in that is for a new dress-coat."

"You wish to take away from me my old one?" asked Raschke, indignantly; "it is well that I have made the discovery. I would now travel to the capital even if I had no occasion for it. Out with the box!"

Mrs. Aurelia went slowly, brought the savings-box, and with silent reproach, put it into his hands. The Professor tossed the money, together with the box, into his breeches' pocket, threw his arm round his wife, and kissed her on the forehead.

"You are my own dear wife," he exclaimed; "and now there must be no delay. Bring me Plato and Spinoza."

Plato was the silk cap, and Spinoza the thick cloak of the Professor.

These treasures of the house were so called because they had been bought with the money earned by two books on those philosophers. The impression which the works had made on the learned world had been very great, but the remuneration very small. A commotion arose among the children, for in winter these beautiful articles were sometimes brought out for a Sunday walk. The little troop ran with their mother to fetch them.

"Be sure and bring them back, Raschke. I am so afraid you will lose one of them."

"As I have told you, Aurelia, in traveling you may depend upon me."

"I will write a few lines to Werner; he must take care that you keep them both. I will put the letter in your coat pocket, if you will only give it to him."

"Why not?" exclaimed Raschke, courageously.

The following morning Mrs. Aurelia accompanied her husband to the point from which the coach started and took care that he came to the right place.

"If you were only safely home again!" she said, piteously.

Raschke kissed her gallantly, and seated himself on his traveling-bag.

"The seats are remarkably high," he cried out, with his legs dangling.

His traveling companions laughed, and he said, civilly, "I beg the gentlemen to excuse me."

The lamps burned, and the moon shone through the white mist on the walls of the Pavilion when the Professor returned there. No ray of light fell from the windows. The house stood gloomy and abandoned, and a blue phosph.o.r.escence seemed to glimmer above it. The door was closed; the lackey had disappeared. The Scholar pulled the bell. At last some one came down the stairs. Gabriel appeared, and gave vent to a cry of joy when he saw his master before him.

"How is my wife?" asked the Professor.

"Mrs. Werner is not at home," replied Gabriel, shyly. He beckoned his master into the room: there he gave him Ilse's letter. The Professor read the lines, and held them in his hands as if stunned. This also was a ma.n.u.script which he had found. It informed him that his wife had gone from him: every word went like a dagger to his heart. When he looked at Gabriel he perceived that he did not yet know all. The servant told him what had happened. The Scholar pushed the chair from him; his limbs trembled as in a fever.

"We will leave this house immediately," he said, faintly; "collect all the things."

Like a Romish priest who prays in secret devotion to his G.o.d, he had veiled his head from the sounds which sought to penetrate his soul from the outward world. He had closed his ears and eyes to the figures that moved about him. Now fate had torn the veil from his head.

"Mr. Hummel would not depart before your arrival," continued Gabriel; "he is in great haste."

"I shall go to his inn; follow me," said the Professor; "but first mention at the castle that I have departed."

He turned away and left the house. As he pa.s.sed by the castle, he cast a wild look on the windows of the room which the Sovereign inhabited.

"He is not returned yet; patience," he murmured. He then went, as if in a state of stupor, to the inn. He ordered a room, and inquired after his landlord. Immediately afterwards Mr. Hummel entered.