Maezli Part 23

Apollonie, who had been sitting down in the shade not far from the door now went up to Mazli and said, "You stayed there a long time. What did the gentleman say?"

"Very little, but I told him a lot," Mazli said. "He has a headache, Apollonie, and just think! n.o.body ever brings him any water, and Mr.

Trius even turns the key and bolts the door before he goes to him."

Apollonie broke out into such lamentations and complaints after these words that Mazli could not bear it.

"But he has the water long ago, Apollonie. I am sure Mr. Trius gave it to him. Please don't go on so," she said a trifle impatiently. But this was only oil poured on the flames.

"Yes, no one knows what he does and what he doesn't do," Apollonie lamented, louder than ever. "The poor master is sick, and all his servant does is to stumble about the place, not asking after his needs and letting everything go to rack and ruin. Not a cabbage-head or a pea-plant is to be seen. Not one strawberry or raspberry, no golden apricots on the wall or a single little dainty peach. The disorder everywhere is frightful. When I think how wonderfully it used to be managed by the Baroness!" Apollonie kept on wiping her eyes because present conditions worried her dreadfully. "You can't understand it, Mazli," she continued, when she had calmed down a trifle. "You see, child, I should be glad to give a finger of my right hand if I could go up there one day a week in order to arrange things for the master as they should be and fix the garden and the vegetables. The stuff the old soldier is giving him to eat is perfectly horrid, I know."

Mazli hated to hear complaints, so she always looked for a remedy.

"You don't need to be so unhappy," she said. "Just cook some nice milk-pudding for him and I'll take it up to him. Then he'll have something good to eat, something much better than vegetables; oh, yes, a thousand times better."

"You little innocent! Oh, when I think of forty years ago!" Apollonie cried out, but she complained no further. Mazli's answers had clearly given her the conviction that the child could not possibly understand the difficult situation she was in.

Mazli chattered gaily by Apollonie's side, and as soon as she reached home, wanted to tell her mother what had happened. But the child was to have no opportunity for that day. The mother had been very careful in keeping the contents of Miss Remke's letter from the children in order not to spoil their last two weeks together. Unfortunately Bruno had that day received a letter from Salo, in which he wrote that in ten days one of the ladies was coming to fetch Leonore home, as she was completely well. Salo remarked quite frankly that he himself hardly looked forward to Leonore's coming, as he saw in each of her letters how happy she was in Aunt Maxa's household and how difficult the separation would be for her. Whenever he thought how hard it would be for her to grow accustomed to the change again, all his joy vanished at the prospect of her return.

Bruno had read the whole letter aloud and had therewith conjured up such consternation and grief on every side that the mother hardly knew how to comfort them. Leonore herself was sitting in the midst of the excited group. She gave no sound and had unsuccessfully tried to swallow her rising tears, but they had got the better of her and were falling over her cheeks in a steady stream.

Mea was crying excitedly, "Oh, mother, you must help us. You have to write to the ladies that they mustn't come. Please don't let Leonore go!"

Bruno remarked pa.s.sionately that no one had the right to drag a sick person on a journey against the doctor's wishes. The doctor had said the last time he had been here that Leonore was to have not less than a month for her complete recovery.

Kurt cried out over and over again, "Oh, mother, it's cruel, it's perfectly cruel! We all want to keep her here and she wants to stay. Now she is to be violently taken from us. Isn't that absolutely cruel?"

Lippo, coming close to Leonore, also did his best to console her. He remembered that he could not say "stay with us" any more, but he had another plan.

"Don't cry, Leonore," he said encouragingly. "As soon as I am big, Uncle Philip has promised to give me a house and a lot of meadows. I'll be a farmer then, and I'll write to you to come to live with me, and Salo can come for the holidays, too."

Leonore could not help smiling, but it only brought more tears when she thought how much love she was receiving from all these children, and that she had to leave them and might never see them again. The mother's attempts to comfort them failed entirely, because she had no hope herself.

In the middle of this agitating scene Mazli arrived, perfectly happy and filled with her recent experiences. She wished to relate what the Castle-Steward had said to her and what she had said to him, and what had happened afterwards. But no one listened because they were so deeply absorbed with their own disturbing thoughts. They were not in the least interested in what Mazli had to say about the Steward, as they all thought that the steward was Mr. Trius. That evening the unheard-of happened. Mazli actually begged to go to bed before the evening song had been sung, because the depressing atmosphere in the house was so little to her taste that she even preferred to go to bed.

Mea had been hoping till now that her mother would find some means to keep Leonore. If it could not be the way Apollonie planned, she might at least stay for a long stretch of time. All of a sudden this hope was gone entirely, and the day of separation was terribly near. The girl looked so completely miserable when she started out for school next day that the mother had not the heart to let her go without a little comfort.

"You only need to go to school two more days, Mea," she said. "Next week you can stay home and spend all your time with Leonore."

Mea was very glad to hear it, but without uttering a word she ran away, for everything that concerned Leonore brought tears to her eyes.

Leonore had been looking so pale the last few days that Mrs. Maxa surveyed her anxiously. Perhaps the recovery had not been as complete as they had hoped, for the news of the close date of her departure had proved to be a great strain for her. Mrs. Maxa went about quite downcast and silent herself. Nothing for a long time had been so hard for her to bear as the thought of separation from the little girl she had begun to love like one of her own, who had also grown so lovingly attached to her. The pressure lay on them all very heavily. Bruno never said a word. Kurt, standing in a corner with a note-book, was busily scribbling down his melancholy thoughts, but he did not show his verses to anyone, as the tragic feeling in them might have drawn remarks from Bruno which he might not have been able to endure. Lippo faithfully followed Leonore wherever she went and from time to time repeated his consoling words, but he said them in such a wailing voice that they sounded extremely doleful. Mazli alone still gazed about her with merry eyes and was dancing with joy when she saw that it was a bright sunny day.

"You can take a little walk with Leonore, Mazli," the mother said immediately after lunch, as soon as the other children had started off to school. "Leonore will grow too pale if she does not get into the open air. Take her on a pretty walk, Mazli. You might go to Apollonie."

Mazli most willingly got her little hat, and the children set out. When they had pa.s.sed half-way across the garden Mazli suddenly stood still.

"Oh, I forgot something," she said. "I have to go back again. Please wait for me, I won't be long."

Mazli disappeared but came back very shortly with a large picture-book under each arm. They were the biggest she had found and she had chosen them because she thought: The bigger the books, the bigger his delight at looking at them.

"Now I'll tell you what I thought," she said on reaching Leonore. "You see, up in the castle under a big tree sits the sick Castle-Steward. I promised to go to see him soon again and to bring him a picture book.

But I am bringing him two because he'll like two better. I also promised to bring you and something else besides. You don't know why he needs that other thing, but you will hear when we are up there. Let us go now."

"But, Mazli, I don't know the gentleman and he doesn't know me," Leonore began to object. "I can't go, because he might not like it. Besides your mother knows nothing about it."

But Mazli had not the slightest intention of giving up her expedition.

"I have everything I want to bring him now, and the Castle-Steward has probably been waiting for us all day, so, you see, we simply must go.

Mama also says that one has to go to see sick people and bring them things, because it cheers them up. He has to sit all day alone under the tree and he gets dreadfully tired. When he has a headache not a person comes to bring him anything. It is not nice of you not to want to go when he is expecting us."

Mazli had talked so eagerly that she not only became absolutely convinced herself that it would be the greatest wrong if she did not go to see the Castle-Steward, but produced a similar feeling in Leonore.

"I shall gladly go with you, if you think the sick gentleman does not object," she said; "I only didn't know whether he would want us."

Mazli was satisfied now, and, gaily talking, led Leonore toward the lofty iron door. The path led up between fragrant meadows and heavily laden apple trees, and when they reached their destination, they found it quite superfluous to ring the bell. Mr. Trius had long ago observed them and stood immovably behind the door. Hoping that he would open it, the children waited expectantly, but he did not budge.

"We want to pay a visit to the Castle-Steward," said Mazli. "You'd better open soon."

"Not for two," was the answer.

"Certainly. We both have to go in, because he is expecting us," Mazli informed him. "I promised to bring Leonore, so you'd better open."

But Mr. Trius did not stir.

"Come, Mazli, we'd better go back," said Leonore in a low voice. "Can't you see that he won't open it? Maybe he is not allowed."

But it was no easy matter to turn Mazli from her project.

"If he won't open it I'll scream so loud that the Castle-Steward will hear it," she said obstinately. "He is sure to say something then, for he is waiting for us. I can shout very loud, just listen: 'Mr.

Castle-Steward!'"

Her cry was so vigorous that Mr. Trius became quite blue with rage. "Be quiet, you little monster!" he said, but he opened the door nevertheless.

"Maybe we shouldn't go in," said Leonore. Mazli pulled her along, however, and never let go her hand till they had reached the terrace; she had no desire to leave her friend behind when they were so near their goal. Now, Mazli quickly taking back the second picture-book, which Leonore had been carrying for her, began to run.

"Just come! Leonore. Look! there he sits already." With this Mazli flew over to the large pine tree.

"How do you do, Mr. Castle-Steward! Didn't I come soon again, this time?" she merrily called out to him. "I have also brought everything I promised. Here are the picture books--look! two of them. I thought you might look through one too quickly."

Mazli laid both books on the lion skin and began to rummage through her pockets. "Look what else I brought you," and Mazli laid down a tiny ivory whistle. "Kurt gave it to me once and now I give it to you. If you have a headache and Mr. Trius is far away, all you need to do is to whistle. Then he can come and bring you some water. He'll hear it far, far away, because it whistles as loud as anything. Just try it once! I have also brought you Leonore."

The gentleman started slightly and looked up. Leonore had shyly retreated behind the chair, but Mazli pulled her forward. The gentleman now threw a penetrating glance at the delicate looking little girl, who hardly dared to raise her large, dark eyes to his. Leonore, who had blushed violently under his scrutiny, said in a barely audible voice, "Perhaps we should not have come; but Mazli thought we might be allowed to see you. Can we do something for you? Perhaps Mazli should not have brought me. Oh, I am so sorry if I have offended you."

"No, indeed. Mazli meant well when she wanted me to meet her friend,"

the gentleman said in quite a friendly voice. "What is the name of Mazli's friend?"

"Leonore von Wallerstatten," the girl answered, and noticing the large books on the gentleman's knees, she added, "May I take the books away?

They might be too heavy."

"Yes, you might, but it was very good of Mazli to bring them all the way up to me," he said. "I'll look at them a little later."