The Lost Manuscript Part 13

Slowly did the procession wind down the hill-path; the torches threw a glaring light on copse and stones, and on the faces of the men, which in the curves of the road were lighted up with a glow like the rising moon, and again disappeared in the darkness. Mrs. Rollmaus had endeavored several times to draw the other ill.u.s.trious stranger into conversation; she now at last succeeded, when in a bad part of the road. She began:

"What your friend said was very good, for it was very instructive. He is right; one ought to struggle against the powers and seek the connecting link. But I a.s.sure you it is difficult for a woman. For Rollmaus, who is the first power of nature for me, has a hatred of principles; he is always for doing everything according to his own ideas, and, as an independent man, he has a right to do so; but he is not very much in favor of science, and even as regards a piano for the children I have trouble with him. But I seek after principles and powers, and what is called the connecting link; and I read what I can, for one likes to know what is going on in the world, and to raise oneself above ordinary people. But often one does not understand a thing even when read twice; and when it is at last understood it may have become obsolete and no longer worth anything, and so I have often been tempted to give up all research whatsoever."

"You should not do that," exclaimed the Doctor; "there is always a secret satisfaction in knowing a thing."

"If I lived in town," continued the lady, "I would devote myself entirely to learning; but in the country one is too much isolated, and there is the housekeeping, and one's husband, who is sometimes hard to please. You have no idea what a good farmer he is. Rollmaus, hold your torch aside, all the smoke blows in the Doctor's face."

Rollmaus turned his torch away and grumbled. His wife drew close to him, seized his arm and whispered to him: "Before we go away you must invite the gentlemen to visit us; it is the right thing to do."

"He is a mendicant priest," answered the husband, peevishly.

"For G.o.d's sake, Rollmaus, don't do anything foolish; above all, do not blaspheme," she continued, pressing his arm; "he is mentioned in the encyclopedia."

"In yours?" asked the husband.

"In the one here," replied the wife, "which amounts to the same thing."

"There are many things in books that are of less value than others that are not there," said the husband, unmoved.

"I am not to be put off in that way. You will not confute me by that,"

replied the wife. "I tell you that he is a man of renown, and propriety demands that we should take the fact into consideration, and you know that so far as propriety is concerned--"

"Only be quiet," said Rollmaus, soothingly. "I say nothing to the contrary, if needs be; I have eaten many a sour apple on your account."

"On my account!" cried the wife, offended. "Have I been unreasonable--am I a tyrant--am I an Eve who has stood with her husband under the tree, with loose hair, and not even a chemise? Will you compare yourself and me with such a state of things?"

"No," said Rollmaus. "Only be content; you know how we get on together."

"Don't you see that I am right?" replied the wife, soothed. "Believe me, I know also how others get on together, and I tell you I have a presentiment that something is brewing."

"What is brewing?" asked Mr. Rollmaus.

"Something between Ilse and the Professor."

"The devil there is!" exclaimed Mr. Rollmaus, with more vivacity than he had shown the whole day.

"Be quiet, Rollmaus, you will be heard; do not lose command of yourself."

Ilse had remained behind; she was leading her youngest brother, who was tired. The Professor gallantly remained by her. He pointed out to her how well the procession looked; the torches, like large glow worms, in front; behind, the sharply outlined figures, and the flickering of the gleaming light upon the trunks and green branches of the trees. Ilse listened to him long in silence. At last she said: "The most charming thing of the day was the kind way you spoke to our dear neighbor Mrs.

Rollmaus. When she was seated by you, I felt troubled in mind, for I thought it would annoy you to listen to the importunate questions of our friend, and it all at once struck me that toward us also you exercise constant consideration; and that thought tormented me. But when I saw that you so kindly and frankly recognized the good that is in our friend and her fullness of soul, I felt that it cost you no great effort of self-command to hold intercourse with us simple folk."

"My dear Miss," exclaimed the Professor, anxiously, "I hope you are convinced that I only said to the worthy lady what came sincerely from my heart?"

"I know it," said Ilse, with warmth, "and the honest soul felt it also herself--she has been quieter and more cheerful than usual the whole day--and therefore I thank you. Yes, from my heart," she added, softly.

Praise from the lips of one beloved is not among the least of the pleasures that a man enjoys. The Professor looked beaming with happiness at his neighbor, who now in the darkness led her brother along at a quicker pace. He did not venture to break the silence; the pure hearts of both had been revealed, and, without speaking a word both felt the stream of warm sentiment that pa.s.sed from one to the other.

"For him who pa.s.ses from the midst of books into the paths of men,"

began the Professor, at last, "the pedantic habit of continued reading there acquired, often makes it easier to derive from a strange mode of life that which is of the highest benefit to his own. For, after all, there is in every life an element that commands reverence, however much it may often be veiled by wondrous accompaniments."

"We are commanded to love our neighbors," said Ilse, "and we endeavor to do so; but when one finds that this love is given so cheerfully and n.o.bly, it is touching; and when one sees such feeling displayed, it becomes an example and elevates the heart. Come, Franz," she said, turning to her brother, "we are not far from home." But Franz stumbled, and, half asleep, declared that his legs ached.

"Up with you, little man," said the Professor, "let me carry you."

Ilse, distressed, tried to prevent it. "I cannot allow that; it is only sleep that makes him so lazy."

"Only till we reach the valley," said the Professor, raising the child on his shoulder. Franz clasped his arms round the Professor's neck, and clinging close to him, was soon fast asleep. When they came to a steep turn of the road, the Professor offered the arm which was free to his companion; but she refused, only supporting herself a little with his proffered hand. But her hand glided down and remained in that of her companion. Thus hand in hand they walked down the last part of the hill into the valley, neither of them speaking a word. When they arrived at the bottom, Ilse gently withdrew her hand, and he released it without a word or pressure; but these few minutes comprised for both a world of happy feelings.

"Come down, Franz," said Ilse, taking her sleeping brother from the arm of her friend. She bent down to the little one to encourage him, and they went on to join the party, who were waiting for them at the brook.

The carriage of the Crown-Inspector drew up. The parting greetings of his wife were very verbose, and her representations had mitigated his obstinacy, so that, cap in hand, he made up his mind to take, with tolerable decorum, a bite of the aforementioned sour apple. He approached the literary gentlemen, and asked them to grant him also the pleasure of a visit; and even the utterance of these friendly words had a softening influence on his honest soul. He now held out his hand to them, and receiving a hearty shake he began to think that the strangers were not in reality so bad as might be supposed. The Proprietor accompanied his guests to the carriage, Hans pa.s.sed the bandbox in, and the two country-gentlemen, as they bade each other good night, watched the starting of the horses with the eyes of connoisseurs.

_CHAPTER VII_.

NEW HOSTILITIES.

Whilst a bright womanly form rose on the horizon between the Professor and the Doctor, fate decreed that a new feud should break out betwixt the two neighboring houses in the city. It happened thus.

Mr. Hahn had availed himself of the absence of his son to beautify his grounds. His garden ran in a point to the park, and he had bethought him much how this corner might be turned to good account; for the little mound which he had thrown up there, and planted with roses, seemed unsatisfactory. He determined, therefore, to erect a weather-proof summerhouse for such visitors as were not inclined in bad weather to retire to the residence. Everything had been wisely considered before the departure of his son. The following day he caused a slender wooden structure to be erected, with small windows toward the street, and above, instead of a roof, a platform with airy benches, the laths of which projected boldly over the wooden walls and garden palings out into the street. Everything seemed favorable. But when Mr.

Hahn, with hearty satisfaction, led his wife up the small side steps on to the platform, and the plump lady, not antic.i.p.ating anything wrong, sat down on the airy bench, and from thence looked with admiration on the world beneath her, it was soon discovered that the pa.s.sers-by in the street had to go directly under her, and the sky above was darkened to whoever pa.s.sed along the fence by the plumage of the great bird that, perched on her high nest, sat with her back turned to the street.

Before a quarter of an hour had pa.s.sed, accordingly, such sharp remarks were heard that the inoffensive Mrs. Hahn was on the point of weeping, and declared to her lord, with unwonted energy, that she would never again allow herself to be treated as a hen, or ascend the platform any more. The family frame of mind was not improved either by the part that Mr. Hummel had taken, for he had stood by the fence of his neighbor's garden during this exhibition of Mrs. Hahn, and had laughed at the vile speeches of the pa.s.sers-by.

Mr. Hahn, however, after a short struggle between pride and discretion, listened to the voice of his better self, removed the benches and the platform, and erected over the summer-house a beautiful Chinese roof; and on the projections of this roof he hung small bells, which sounded softly when the wind rose. This idea would have been a decided improvement; but, alas! the wickedness of man gave no rest to this work of art for the urchins in the street diverted themselves by continually keeping the bells in movement by means of long switches. On the first night, therefore, the neighborhood was awakened from its slumbers by a concert of many bells. That night Mr. Hahn dreamed that winter was come, and that a merry party of sleighs were pa.s.sing round his house; he listened, and indignantly discovered that his own bells had been set in motion. He hastened into the garden in his nightdress, and called out, angrily:

"Who is there?"

In an instant the ringing ceased, deep silence and peaceful quiet reigned around. He went up to the garden-house, and looked at his bells, which might be seen swinging under the darkened sky; but roundabout no one was to be discovered. He went back to his bed, but scarcely had he laid himself down when the noise began again, quick and loud, as if pealing for a Christmas party. Again he rushed out of the house, and again the noise ceased; but when he raised himself above the railing and looked around, he saw in the garden opposite the broad figure of Mr. Hummel standing by the hedge, and heard a threatening voice call out:

"What crazy conduct is this?"

"It is inexplicable, Mr. Hummel," exclaimed Mr. Hahn, across the street, in a conciliatory tone.

"Nothing is inexplicable," cried out Mr. Hummel, "but the mischievous insanity of hanging bells in the open air over a public street."

"I resent your attack," called out Mr. Hahn deeply wounded. "I have a right to hang up what I like on my own property."

Then there began a conflict of views across the street, weird and frightful. There Hummel's ba.s.s, here Hahn's sharp voice, which gradually rose into a counter-tenor; both figures in long night-dresses, divided by the street and railings, but like two heroes of antiquity belaboring one another with strong language. If one failed to perceive the wild effect given to Mr. Hahn by the red color of his night-dress, he yet might be seen towering upon the height near his Chinese temple, raising his arm imposingly across the horizon; but Mr.

Hummel stood in the darkness, overshadowed by the wild vine.

"I will have you before the police court, for disturbing the public peace," cried Mr. Hummel at last, but felt the small hand of his wife at his back, who seized him by his night-dress, turned him round, and gently entreated him not to make a scene.

"And I will inquire before the court who gave you a right to heap abuse upon me from across the street," called out Mr. Hahn, likewise in the act of retiring, for amidst the noise of the fight he had now and then heard the soft words, "Come back, Hahn," and seen his wife behind him wringing her hands. But he was not in a disposition to abandon the field of battle.

"A light and ladder here," he exclaimed, "I will unearth this shameful trick."