Maezli Part 8

It was hard to tell if this explanation comforted the mother. She had gone out with a sign to attend to Bruno's belated lunch. The time was already near at hand when all the children had to get back to school.

When that same evening the little ones were happily playing and the big children were busy with their school work, Kurt stole up to his mother's chair and asked her in a low voice, "Shall we have the story to-day?"

The mother nodded. "As soon as the little ones are in bed." At this Mazli p.r.i.c.ked up her ears.

When all the work was done in the evening, all the family usually played a game together. Kurt, who was usually the first to pack up his papers, was still scribbling away after Mea had laid hers away. Looking over his shoulder into the note-book, she exclaimed, "He is writing some verses again! Who is the subject of your song, Kurt?"

"I'll read it to you, then you can guess yourself," said the boy. "The first verse is already written somewhere else. Now listen to the second."

She stares about with stately mien: "O ho, just look at me!

If I am not acknowledged queen, I surely ought to be."

Her friend agrees with patient air And fastens up her shoes.

Then queenie thinks: That's only fair, She couldn't well refuse.

But if the friend should try to show The queen her faults, look out!

She'd break the friends.h.i.+p at a blow And straightway turn about.

Mea had been obliged to laugh a little at first at the description of the humble behaviour which did not seem to describe her very well. Finally, however, sad memories rose up in her.

"Do you know, mother," she cried out excitedly, "it is not the worst that she shows me her back, but that one can't ever agree with her. Every time I find anything pleasant and good, she says the opposite, and when I say that something is wrong and horrid, she won't be of my opinion either. It is so hard to keep her friends.h.i.+p because we always seem to quarrel when I haven't the slightest desire to."

"Just let her go. She is the same as her brothers," said Bruno. "I never want their friends.h.i.+p again, and I wish I might never have anything more to do with them."

"It is better to give them things, the way you did to-day," Kurt remarked.

"I can understand Mea," said the mother. "As soon as we came here she tried to get Elvira's friends.h.i.+p. She longs for friends.h.i.+p more than you do."

"Oh, mother, I have six or eight friends here, that is not so bad," Kurt declared.

"I couldn't say much for any of them," Bruno said quickly.

"It must hurt Mea," the mother continued, "that Elvira does not seem to be capable of friends.h.i.+p. You only act right in telling her what you consider wrong, Mea. If you show your attachment to her and try not to be hurt by little differences of opinion, your friends.h.i.+p might gradually improve."

As Lippo and Mazli felt that the time for the general game had come, they came up to their mother to declare their wish. Soon everybody was merrily playing.

It happened to-day, as it did every day, that the clock pointed much too soon to the time which meant the inexorable end of playing. This usually happened when everybody was most eager and everything else was forgotten for the moment. As soon as the clock struck, playing was discontinued, the evening song was sung and then followed the disappearance of the two little ones. While the older children put away the toys, the mother went to the piano to choose the song they were to sing.

Mazli had quickly run after her. "Oh, please, mama, can I choose the song to-day?" she asked eagerly.

"Certainly, tell me which song you would like to sing best."

Mazli seized the song-book effectively.

"But, Mazli, you can't even read," said the mother. "How would the book help you? Tell me how the song begins, or what lines you know."

"I'll find it right away," Mazli a.s.serted. "Just let me hunt a little bit." With this she began to hunt with such zeal as if she were seeking a long-lost treasure.

"Here, here," she cried out very soon, while she handed the book proudly over to her mother.

The latter took the book and read:

"Patience Oh Lord, is needed, When sorrow, grief and pain"--

"But, Mazli, why do you want to sing this song?" her mother asked.

Kurt had stepped up to them and looked over the mother's shoulder into the book. "Oh, you sly little person! So you chose the longest song you could find. You thought that Lippo would see to it that we would sing every syllable before going to bed."

"Yes, and you hate to go to bed much more than I do," said Mazli a little revengefully. It had filled her with wrath that her beautiful plan had been seen through so quickly. "When you have to go, you always sigh as loud as yesterday and cry: 'Oh, what a shame! Oh, what a shame!' and you think it is fearful."

"Quite right, cunning little Mazli," Kurt laughed.

"Come, come, children, now we'll sing instead of quarrelling," the mother admonished them. "We'll sing 'The lovely moon is risen.' You know all the words of that from beginning to end, Mazli."

They all started and finished the whole song in peace.

When the mother came back later on from the beds of the two younger children, the three elder ones sat expectantly around the table, for Kurt had told them of their mother's promise to tell them the story of the family of Wallerstatten that evening. They had already placed their mother's knitting-basket on the table in preparation of what was to come, because they knew that she would not tell them a story without knitting at the same time.

Smilingly the mother approached. "Everything is ready, I see, so I can begin right away."

"Yes, and right from the start, please; from the place where the ghost first comes in."

The mother looked questioningly at Kurt. "It seems to me, Kurt, that you still hope to find out about this ghost, whatever I may say to the contrary. I shall tell you, though, how people first began to talk about a ghost in Wildenstein. The origin of these rumors goes back many, many years."

"There is a picture in the castle," the mother began to relate, "which I often looked at as a child and which made a deep impression upon me. It represents a pilgrim who wanders restlessly about far countries, despite his snow-white hair, which is blowing about his head, and despite his looking old and weather-beaten. It is supposed to be the picture of the ancestor of the family of Wallerstatten. The family name is thought to have been different at that time.

"This ancestor is said to have been a man extremely susceptible to violent outbreaks. In his pa.s.sion he was supposed to have committed many evil deeds, on account of which his poor wife could not console herself.

Praying for him, she lay whole days on her knees in the chapel. She died suddenly, however, and this shocked the baron so mightily that he could not remain in the castle. In order to find peace for his restless soul he became a repentant pilgrim. So he took the emblem of a pilgrim into his coat of arms and called himself Wallerstatten. Leaving his estate and his sons, he nevermore returned.

"Later on two of his descendants lived in the castle. Both were well loved and respected, because they did a great deal to have the land cultivated for a long distance around and as a result all the farmers became rich. But both had inherited the violent temper of their ancestor, and the truth is that there always were members in the family with that fatal characteristic. n.o.body knew what happened between the brothers, but one morning one of them was found dead on the floor of the big fencing-hall. All that the castle guard knew about it was that his two masters had settled a dispute with a duel. The other brother had immediately disappeared, but was brought back dead to the castle a few days afterwards.

"Climbing up a high mountain, he had fallen down a precipice and had been found dead. These events threw all the neighborhood into great consternation.

"That is when the rumors first spread that the restless spirit of the brother murderer was seen wandering about the castle. All this happened many years before my father and your grandfather moved into Nolla as Rector. The rumor had somewhat faded then and all that we children heard about it was that my father was very positive in denying all such reports that reached his ears. Your grandfather was the closest friend of the master of Wallerstatten, whom everybody called the Baron. I can only remember seeing him once for a moment, but he made an unusual impression upon me. I remember him very vividly as a very tall man going with rapid steps through the courtyard and mounting a horse, which was trying to rear. He died before I was five years old, and I have often heard my father say to my mother that it was a great misfortune for the two sons to have lost their father. I felt so sorry for them that I would often stop in the middle of play to ask her, 'Oh, mother, can n.o.body help them?' To comfort me she would tell me that G.o.d alone could help. For a long time I prayed every night before going to sleep: 'Dear G.o.d, please help them in their trouble!' Both were always very kind and friendly with me. I was up at the castle a great deal, because the Baroness Maximiliana of Wallerstatten was my G.o.dmother. My father instructed the two sons and acted as helper and adviser to the Baroness in many things.

He went up to her every morning, holding me by one hand and Philip by the other. My brother had lessons together with the boys, who were one year apart in age, while Philip was just between them. Bruno, the elder--"

"I was named after him, mother, wasn't I?" Bruno interrupted here.

"Salo was a year younger--"

"I was called after him," Mea said quickly. "You wanted a Salo so much and, as I was a girl, you called me Malomea, didn't you?"

The mother nodded.

"And I was called after father," Kurt cried out, in order to prove that his name also had a worthy origin.

"I went up to the castle because my G.o.dmother wished it. She would have loved to have a little daughter herself, therefore she occupied herself with me as if I belonged to her. She taught me to embroider and to do other fine handwork. Whenever she went with me into the garden and through the estate, she taught me all about the trees and flowers. I was often allowed to pick the violets that grew in great abundance beneath the hedges and in the gra.s.s at the border of the little woods. Oh, what beautiful days those were! Soon they were to become more perfect still for us.