An Old Story of My Farming Days Volume I Part 9

"Again to meet! again to meet!

Till then I fain would sleep; My longings and my thoughts to steep In Lethe's waters dark and deep.

My loved one I again shall see, There's rapture in the thought!

In the hope to-morrow of thee, My darling, I fear nought.

("The _beginning_ is by myself, the _middle_ part by Schiller, and the _end_ by a certain person called Anonymous who writes a great deal of poetry, but I have altered his lines to suit the present case.)

"_In an agony of longing to see you_,

Ever Thine."

"_No!_" cried little Mrs. Behrens when she had read the letter. "This is really too much of a good thing! Ah, my dear sister, I'm sorry for you! Well, it's high time for _other_ people to interfere, and I think that being his aunt, I am the proper person to do so. And I will do it," she exclaimed aloud, stamping her foot emphatically, "and I should like to see who'd dare to prevent me!"

"I promise not to interfere with you, Mrs. Behrens," said Brasig, coming from behind the bee-hives.

"Have you been listening, Brasig?" asked Mrs. Behrens rather sharply.--"'Listening!' I never listen! I only keep my ears open, and then I hear what's going on; and I keep my eyes open, and see what pa.s.ses before me. For instance, I see that you are very cross."--"Yes, but it's enough to drive an angel wild."--"Ah, Mrs. Behrens, the angels are wild enough already in all conscience, but we don't need to speak of them just now, for I believe that the devil himself is going about Pumpelhagen."--"Goodness gracious me! Has Fred ....?"--"No," answered Brasig, "I don't know what it is, but certainly there's something up."--"How?"--"Mrs. Behrens, Hawermann is in a bad humour, and that is enough to show you that something unpleasant is going on. When I went to Pumpelhagen last week I found him busy with the hay and rape-harvest, and said: 'Good-morning,' I said.--'Good-morning,' said he.--'Charles,' I began, and was going to have said something when he interrupted me by asking: 'Have you seen Triddelfitz anywhere?'--'Yes,'

I answered.--'Where?' he asked.--'Sitting in the large ditch,' I said.--'Did you see young Mr. von Rambow?' he asked.--'He's sitting in the next ditch close behind Fred,' I replied.--'What are they doing?'

he asked.---'Playing,' I said.--'You don't give me much comfort,' he said, '_playing_, when there's so much to be done!'--'Yes, Charles,'

I said, 'and I played with them.'--'What were you playing at?' he asked.--'We had a game at "I spy," Charles. You must understand that your grey-hound was peeping over the edge of the ditch towards Gurlitz, and your young n.o.bleman was watching the grey-hound, so I hid myself in the marl-pit, and watched them both. When ever one of them turned the others ducked, so there we sat peeping and ducking till at last I found it a very tiresome amus.e.m.e.nt, and, leaving my hiding-place, went to join Mr. von Rambow.' 'Good-day,' I said.--'Good-day,' he replied.--'Pardon me,' I said, 'but which of your farming-operations is it that is occupying your attention just now?'--'I,' he stammered, 'w--wanted to see how the peas were getting on!'--'H'm!' I said. 'Ah!'

I said. 'I understand.' Then I bade him 'good-bye,' and went to have a look at the grey-hound. Don't be angry, Mrs. Behrens, but that's what I always call your nephew."--"Not at all, not at all!" cried the little lady, though her own name for him was different.--Then Brasig continued: "'Good-day,' I said, 'may I ask what you are doing here?'--'Oh, nothing in particular,' he said, looking rather foolish, 'I'm only looking at the peas.'--'Now, Charles,' I said, 'if you can get the peas staked by setting those two lads to look at them, why all that I can say is that you're a deuced lucky fellow.'--'The devil take it!' he said, 'they're both up to some folly. Mr. von Rambow is quite changed this summer, he isn't like the same person. He goes about in a dream, forgets all that I tell him, and so I can't rely on him as I used to do. And as for that other stupid dolt, he's worse than ever.'--Now, Mrs. Behrens, pray don't be angry with Hawermann for calling your nephew a 'stupid dolt.'"--"Certainly not," replied Mrs.

Behrens, "for that's just what he is."--"Well, you see that all happened a week ago, but this morning I went out early with my fis.h.i.+ng-rod to try whether I couldn't catch a few trout, when just as I was coming in this direction I caught sight of your nephew, the greyhound. He slipped cautiously into the garden, and after remaining there for a few minutes, came out again. Meanwhile I perceived that the young n.o.bleman was watching him from amongst the thorn-bushes by the side of the ditch; but what was my astonishment when I saw that my good old friend Charles Hawermann was following them on the hill-side. I brought up the rear, and so we all went on in single file quite round the village, and I couldn't help laughing when I thought that each of us only knew of the presence of the game he was stalking, and was totally unaware that he himself was being stalked in his turn. We're all to be at it again to-morrow I believe, for Hawermann, who has followed them twice already, is determined to get to the bottom of the mystery; so if either you or the parson has a fancy to join us in the hunt, you can follow me."--"Thanks very much," said Mrs. Behrens, "but I've got my part to play already. Brasig, can you keep a secret?"--"Like a safe when the padlock is on," he answered.--"No, no.

Do be serious. Can you be silent?"--"I beg your pardon," he said gravely, and clapped his hand on his mouth in token of shame at his ill-timed jesting, though had anyone else done it, he would have given him a black eye for his pains.--"Why well then, listen," said Mrs.

Behrens, who now proceeded to relate all that she knew of the affair.--"Wheugh!" whistled Brasig, "what a fool that nephew of yours is."--Mrs. Behrens then read him the letters she had found. "Hang it,"

cried Brasig, "where did the young rascal get that grand way of expressing himself. Stupid as he is in other matters, he can write much better than one would expect."--When she came to the bit about the dragon Brasig laughed heartily, and said: "That's you, Mrs. Behrens, that's you!"--"I know," she answered sharply, "but the a.s.s in the third letter is intended for you, so neither of us need laugh at the other.

But now, Brasig, you see that it's quite necessary that I should get hold of the little wretch, and box his ears well for him."--"You're quite right, and it's easily managed. Listen. You and I must hide at the bottom of the garden at eight o'clock this evening; at half past eight, Louisa must take her place in the ditch, and you'll see that he'll come like a bear to wild honey; and then we'll spring out upon him, and take him prisoner before he knows where he is."--"That won't do at all, Brasig. If I were going to act in that sort of way I shouldn't require your help. It would be a great misfortune if Louisa were ever to know anything about this, and I'd rather that neither Hawermann nor even my pastor should hear of it."--"H'm, h'm!" said Brasig. "Then .... then .... Stop! I have it now. Mrs. Behrens, you must make yourself as thin as possible, put on Louisa's clothes, and go to the _randyvoo_ in her stead. Then, as soon as he is seated by your side, and is on the point of kissing you, you must seize him by the scruff of the neck, and hold on till I come."--"Nay, Brasig, that would never do!"--"Don't you think so, Mrs. Behrens? You understand that if he doesn't see his sweet-heart in the ditch, you'll never manage to inveigle him there; and if we don't nab him unexpectedly, we'll never succeed in catching him, for he's a long-legged, thin-flanked grey-hound, and if it came to a race, we'd be nowhere with our short legs and round bodies."--It was quite true; but no! she go to a _rendezvous_? And Brasig was very stupid, how could she ever get into Louisa's gown?--But Brasig would not be convinced; he maintained that it was the only way in which she could get the interview she wanted with her nephew, and a.s.sured her that all she had to do was to put on Louisa's shawl and Leghorn hat, and then go and sit on the edge of the ditch. "You must remember to sit down," he continued, "for if you remain standing he will see at once that you're a foot shorter, and at least a foot broader than Louisa."--At last--at last Mrs. Behrens allowed herself to be persuaded, and when she went out at the back-door about eight o'clock that evening, wearing Louisa's shawl and hat, the parson who was standing at his study-window thinking over his sermon, said to himself wonderingly: "What on earth is Regina doing with Louisa's hat and shawl? And there's Brasig coming out of the arbour. He must want to speak to me about something--but it's a very odd thing altogether!"

Mrs. Behrens went down the garden path with Brasig feeling ready for anything that might befall. She opened the garden-gate and went out alone, leaving Brasig squatted under the hedge like a great toad, but no sooner was she by herself than her courage oozed away, and she said: "Come to the ditch with me, Brasig, you're too far away there, and must be close at hand to help me when I've caught him."--"All right!" said Brasig, and he accompanied her to the ditch.

Ca.n.a.l-like ditches such as this are no longer to be found in all the country-side, for the thorough system of drainage to which the land has been subjected has done away with their use; but every farmer will remember them in the old time. They were from fifteen to twenty feet wide at the top, but tapered away till quite narrow at the bottom, and were fringed with thorns and other bushwood. They were generally dry except in spring and autumn, when there was a foot or a foot and half of water in them, or in summer for a day or two after a thunder-storm.

That was the case now.--"Brasig hide yourself behind that thorn so that you may come to the rescue at once."--"Very well," said Brasig.--"But, Mrs. Behrens," he continued after a pause, "you must think of a signal to call me to your help."--"Yes," she said. "Of course! But what shall it be? Wait! when I say; '_The Philistines be upon thee_' spring upon him."--"I understand, Mrs. Behrens!"

"Goodness gracious me!" thought the clergyman's wife. "I feel as if I were quite a Delilah. Going to a _rendezvous_ at half past eight in the evening! At my age too! Ah me, in my old age I'm going to do what I should have been ashamed of when I was a girl."--Then aloud. "Brasig don't puff so loud anyone could hear you a mile off." Resuming her soliloquy: "And all for the sake of a boy, a mischievous wretch of a boy. Good gracious! If my pastor knew what I was about!"--Aloud. "What are you laughing at, Brasig? I forbid you to laugh, it's very silly of you."--"I didn't laugh, Mrs. Behrens."--"Yes, you _did_, I heard you distinctly."--"I only yawned, Mrs. Behrens, it's such frightfully slow work lying here."--"You oughtn't to yawn at such a time. I'm trembling all over.--Oh, you little wretch, what misery you have caused me! I can't tell anyone what you've made me suffer, and must just bear it in silence. It was G.o.d who sent Brasig to my help."--Suddenly Brasig whispered in great excitement, his voice sounding like the distant cry of a corn-crake: "Mrs. Behrens, draw yourself out till you're as long as Lewerenz's child;[15] make yourself as thin as you possibly can, and put on a pretty air of confusion, for I see him coming over the crest of the hill. His figure stands out clearly against the sky."--Little Mrs. Behrens felt as if her heart had stopped beating, and her anger waxed hotter against the boy who had brought her into such a false position. She was so much ashamed of herself for being where she was, that she would most a.s.suredly have run away if Brasig had not laughed again, but as soon as she heard that laugh, she determined to stay and show him that he was engaged in a much more serious undertaking than he seemed to imagine.--

It was quite true that Brasig had laughed this time, for he saw a second and then a third black figure following the first down the hill.

"Ha, ha, ha!" he chuckled in his hiding-place in the thorn-bush, "there's Charles Hawermann too! I declare the whole overseeing force of Pumpelhagen is coming down here to see how the peas are growing in the dusk of evening. It's as good as a play!"--Mrs. Behrens did not see the others, she only saw her sister's son who was coming rapidly towards her. He hastened over the bridge, ran along the bank, sprang to her side, and threw his arms round her neck, exclaiming: "Sweet angel!"--"Oh you wicked little wretch!" cried his aunt trying to seize him in the way Brasig had desired her, but instead of that she only caught hold of the collar of his coat. Then she called out as loudly as she could: "The Philistines be upon thee!" and immediately Brasig the Philistine started to his feet.--Confound it! His foot had gone to sleep!--But never mind! He hopped down the bank as quickly as he could, taking into consideration that one leg felt as if it had a hundred-and-eighty pound weight attached to the end of it, but just as he was close upon his prey he tripped over a low thorn-bush and tumbled right into the foot and a half of water.--And there he sat as immovably as if he had gone back to the hydropathic establishment, and were in the enjoyment of a sitz-bath! Fred stood as if he had been turned to stone, and felt as though he were suffering from a douche-bath, for his dear aunt was clutching him tightly and scolding him to her heart's content: "The dragon has caught you now my boy! Yes, the dragon has caught you!"--"And here comes the a.s.s," shouted Brasig picking himself out of the water and running towards him. But Fred had now recovered from his astonishment. He shook himself free from his aunt, and darting up the bank would have escaped had he not at the same moment encountered a new enemy--Frank. In another second Hawermann had joined them, and Mrs. Behrens had scarcely recovered from the shock of seeing him, when her pastor came up, and said: "What's the matter, Regina?

What does all this mean?"--The poor little lady's consternation was indescribable, but Brasig, from whose clothes the water was running in streams, was too angry to hold his tongue, and exclaimed: "You confounded rascal! You greyhound!" giving Fred a hearty dig in the ribs as he spoke. "It's all your fault that I shall have another attack of gout. But now, I'll tell you what, everyone shall know what a d--d Jesuit you are. Hawermann, he ....."--"For G.o.d's sake," cried Mrs.

Behrens, "don't attend to a single word that Brasig says. Hawermann, Mr. von Rambow, the whole thing is ended and done with. It's all over now, and what has still to be done or said can quite well be managed by my pastor alone; it's a family matter and concerns no one but ourselves. Isn't that the case, my dear Fred? It's merely a family matter I a.s.sure you, and no one has anything to do with it but we two. But now, come away, my boy, we'll tell my pastor all about it.

Good-night, Mr. von Rambow. Good-night, Hawermann, Fred will soon follow you. Come away, Brasig, you must go to bed at once."

And so she managed to disperse the a.s.sembly. The two who were left in ignorance of what had happened, went home separately, shaking their heads over the affair. Hawermann was indignant with his two young people, and put out because he was to have no explanation of their conduct. Frank was mistrustful of everyone; he had recognised Louisa's hat and shawl in spite of the darkness, and thought that the mystery must have something to do with her, though how, he was unable to conjecture.

Fred was much cast down in spirit. The clergyman and his wife went on in front of him, and the latter told her husband the whole story from beginning to end, scolding her hopeful nephew roundly the whole time.

The procession moved on towards the parsonage, and as the evil-doer guessed that a bad half-hour awaited him there, he had serious thoughts of making his escape while it was possible, but Brasig came as close up to him as if he had known what he was thinking of, and that only made him rage and chafe the more inwardly. When Brasig asked Mrs. Behrens who it was that had come up in the nick of time, and she had answered that it was Frank, Triddelfitz stood still and shaking his fist in the direction of Pumpelhagen, said fiercely: "I am betrayed, and _she_ will be sold, sold to that man because of his rank and position!"--"Boy!"

cried Mrs. Behrens, "will you hold your tongue!"--"Hush, Regina," said her husband, who had now a pretty good idea of what had taken place, "now please go in and see that Brasig's room is prepared, and get him sent to bed as quickly as you can. I will remain here and speak to Fred."

This was done. The parson appealed to Fred's common sense, but his sense of injury far exceeded that other, and his spirit seethed and boiled like wine in the process of fermentation. He put aside all the clergyman's gentle arguments, and declared pa.s.sionately that his own aunt had determined to destroy the whole happiness of his life, and that she cared more for the rich aristocrat than for her sister's son.

Within the house matters were going on in the same unsatisfactory manner; uncle Brasig refused to go to bed in spite of all Mrs. Behrens'

entreaties. "I can't," he said, "that is to say, I can, but I mustn't do it; for I must go to Rexow. I had a letter from Mrs. Nussler to say that she wanted my help." The same yeast which had caused Fred to seethe and boil over was working in him, but more quietly, because it had been a part of his being for a longer time. At last, however, he was persuaded to go to bed as a favour to Mrs. Behrens, and from fear of bringing on an attack of gout by remaining in his wet things, but his thoughts were as full of anxious affection for Mrs. Nussler, as Fred's were of love for Louisa when on leaving the parsonage he exclaimed pa.s.sionately: "Give her up, does he say! Give her up!--The devil take that young sprig of the n.o.bility!"

CHAPTER XIII.

Next day--it was Sunday morning--when Brasig awoke, he gave himself a comfortable stretch in the soft bed. "A luxury," he said to himself, "that I've never before enjoyed, but I suppose one would soon get accustomed to it." Just as he was about to get up the housemaid came in, and taking possession of his clothes, placed a black coat, waistcoat and pair of trousers over the back of a chair in their stead.

"Ho, ho!" he said with a laugh as he examined the black suit; "It's Sunday, and this is a parsonage; but surely they never think that I'm going to preach to-day!" He lifted one article of clothing after the other curiously, and then said: "Ah! I see now, it's because mine were wet through in the ditch last night, so they've given me a suit belonging to his Reverence. All right then!--here goes." But it did not go so easily after all! And as for comfort, that was totally out of the question. The trousers were a very good length, but were frightfully tight. The lower b.u.t.tons of the waistcoat could neither be coaxed nor forced into the b.u.t.ton-holes, and when he put on the coat, there was an ominous cracking somewhere between the shoulders. As for his arms, they stood out from his body as if he were prepared to press the whole world to his faithful heart on this particular Sunday.

After he was dressed he went down stairs, and joined Mrs. Behrens in the parlour. As to his legs, he looked and walked very much as he had done ever since he had received his pension; but as to the upper part of his body! Mrs. Behrens burst out laughing when she saw him, and immediately took refuge behind the breakfast table, for he advanced with his arms outstretched as if he wished to make her the first recipient of his world-embrace.--"Keep away from me, Brasig!" she laughed. "If I had ever imagined that my pastor's good clothes would have looked so ridiculous on you I'd have let you remain in bed till dinner-time, for your own things won't be washed and dried before that."--"Oh, ho!" laughed Brasig, "that was the reason you sent me these things, was it? I thought perhaps you wanted to dress me up for another _randyvoo_ to-day."--"Now, just listen to me, Brasig!" said little Mrs. Behrens, blus.h.i.+ng furiously. "I forbid you to make such jokes. And when you're going about in the neighbourhood--you have nothing to do now except to carry gossip from one house to another--if you ever tell any one about that wretched _rendezvous_ of last night--I'll never speak to you again."--"Mrs. Behrens, you may trust me not to do that," here he went nearer the clergyman's wife with both arms outstretched, and she once more retreated behind the table.

"Indeed, you've nothing to fear. I'm not a Jesuit."--"No, Brasig, you're an old heathen, but you ar'n't a Jesuit But if you say anything about it .... Oh me! Hawermann must be told, my pastor says so. But if he asks about it, don't mention my name, please. Oh, dear! If the Pomuchelskopps were ever to hear of it, I should be the most miserable of women. G.o.d knows, Brasig, that what I did, I did for the best, and for the sake of that innocent child. I've sacrificed myself for her."--"That's quite true," answered Brasig with conviction, "and so don't let fretting over it give you any grey hairs. Look here. If Charles Hawermann asks me how you came to be there, I'll say--I'll say--h'm!--I'll say that you had arranged a _randyvoo_ with me."--"_You!_ Fie, for shame!"--"Nay, Mrs. Behrens, I don't see that.

Am I not as good as the young grey-hound any day? And don't our ages suit better?" And as he spoke he looked as innocently surprised at her displeasure as if he had proposed the best possible way out of the difficulty. Mrs. Behrens looked at him dubiously, and then said, folding her hands on her lap: "Brasig, I'll trust to you to say nothing you ought not to say. But Brasig--dear Brasig, do nothing absurd.

And .... and .... come and sit down, and drink a cup of coffee." She took hold of his stiff arm and drew him to the table, much as a miller draws the sails of a windmill when he wants to set it going.

"Thank you," said Brasig. He managed to get hold of the handle of the cup after a struggle, and lifted it as if he were a juggler and the cup were at least a hundred pounds in weight, and as if he wanted to make sure that all the audience saw it properly. Then he tried to sit down, but the moment he bent his knees a horrible cracking noise was heard, and he drew himself up again hastily--whether it was the chair or the trousers that cracked he did not know. He therefore drank his coffee standing, and said: it didn't matter, for he hadn't time to sit down, he must go to Mrs. Nussler at once because of her letter.--Mrs. Behrens implored him to wait until his clothes were dry, but in vain; Mrs.

Nussler's slightest wish was regarded by him as a command, and was inscribed as such in the order-book of his conscience. So he set out for Rexow along the Pumpelhagen road, the long tails of his clerical garment floating behind him. His progress was as slow and difficult as that of a young rook learning to fly.

As he pa.s.sed Pumpelhagen, Hawermann saw him, and called him to stop, adding: "Bless me, Zachariah, why are you dressed so oddly?"--"An accident, nothing but an accident. You remember that I fell into the muddy water in the ditch last night. But I haven't time to stop now, I must go to your sister."--"My sister's business can wait better than mine, Brasig. I've noticed lately that a great many things are going on behind my back, that I'm not wanted to know. It wouldn't have mattered so much, but that I saw last night that both the parson and his wife are better informed than I am, and that these good people want to hide the true state of the case from me out of the kindness of their hearts."--"You're right, Charles. It is out of kindness."--"Certainly, Brasig, and I am not mistrustful of them, but I can't help thinking that it's something that concerns me very nearly, and that I ought to know. What were you doing yesterday evening?"--"I, Charles? I was just having a _randyvoo_ with Mrs. Behrens in the ditch."--"And the parson?"--"We knew nothing of what brought him, Charles. He took us by surprise when he came."--"What had Mr. von Rambow to do with it?"--"He caught your grey-hound by the scruff of the neck, and perhaps threw me into the water by accident."--"_What had Fred Triddelfitz to do with it?_" asked Hawermann impressively, "and what had Louisa's hat and shawl got to do with it?"--"Nothing more than that they didn't fit Mrs.

Behrens at all, for she's far too stout to wear them."--"Zachariah,"

said Hawermann, stretching his hand towards his friend over the low hedge, "you are trying to put me off. _Won't_ you tell me what is the matter, we are such old friends--or is it that you must not tell me?"--"The devil take the _randyvoo_ and Mrs. Behrens' anxiety," cried Brasig, seizing Hawermann's hand and shaking it vehemently over the hedge and amongst the tall nettles that grew there, till the smart of the stings made them both draw back. "I'll tell you, Charles. The parson's going to tell you himself, so why shouldn't I? Fred Triddelfitz fell in love with you sometime ago, most likely because of the good fatherly advice you have often given him, and now it seems his love for you has pa.s.sed on to your daughter. Love always pa.s.ses on, for example with me from your sister to Mina."--"Do be serious, Brasig!"--"Am I not always in earnest, Charles, when I speak of your sister and Mina?"--"I am sure you are," cried Hawermann, seizing his friend's hand again in spite of the nettles, "but, tell me, what had Frank to do with it?"--"I think that he must have fallen in love with you too, and that his love has also pa.s.sed on from you to your daughter."--"That would be a great pity," cried Hawermann, "a very great pity. G.o.d only knows how it's to be stopped."--"I'm not so sure, Charles, that you're right in thinking it a misfortune, for he has two estates ...."--"Don't talk about that Brasig, but come in and tell me all that you know."

As soon as Brasig had told as much as he knew of the affair, he set off down the foot-path that led to Rexow. Hawermann stood and watched him till he was out of sight, and then said to himself; "He's a good man, his heart's in the right place, and if I find that it is so, I will .... but .... but ....!"--He was not thinking of Brasig when he said this, but of Frank.----

On this Sunday morning young Joseph was sitting in his easy chair beside the parlour-fire waiting to be called to breakfast. Lina and Mina had spread the cloth and arranged dishes of ham, sausages, bread, and b.u.t.ter neatly on the table, and now that everything else was ready, Mrs. Nussler came in carrying a skillet with hot b.u.t.tered eggs: "Come along, Joseph," she said, "don't let the eggs get cold," and then she left the room again to see that all was going on rightly outside.

The eggs were still bubbling and sputtering in the skillet--but young Joseph did not move. Whether it was because he had not yet finished his pipe, and felt that he ought not to be deprived of his customary smoke before breakfast, or whether it was because he had fallen into a brown study over the two letters which were lying open on his knee, cannot be known with any certainty. But whatever the cause may have been he did not move, and kept staring straight before him at one particular spot under the stove. And on that spot at which he was staring lay young Bolster, who was staring back at him. Young Bolster was the last descendant of the Bolster family, and had been born and brought up in, the house since old Joseph's time; When he was spoken to he was called "Bolster," but he was always spoken of as the "crown-prince," not for his own sake, no, but for Joseph's sake, for this was the only joke--if indeed it might be called one--that he had been able to make on the dog after long consideration.

So, as I have just said, the two young people, young Joseph and young Bolster, stared hard at each other. They were both plunged in deep thought, the one about the letters, and the other about the savoury smell of the eggs in the skillet. Joseph never moved a hair's breadth; but the crown-prince sometimes rubbed his paw gently over his thoughtful face, and raising his pointed nose in the air, refreshed himself with a sniff at the good things on the table. At last he crept out from under the stove, put on a look of polite entreaty, and tried to attract Joseph's attention by wagging his tail. But young Joseph never moved a muscle, and young Bolster saw that he was not conscious of his presence, so he advanced to the table, looking round slyly out of the corner of his eye as he did so; but more from fear of Mrs.

Nussler's coming than of young Joseph's seeing what he was about. He then rested his head on the breakfast-table, and indulged in the pleasures of hope, like a great many other young people. But though hope is all very well for a time, every one likes his hope to be realized after having shown a proper amount of patience. The crown-prince, therefore, placed his feet--only his forefeet--on the chair, and so got a little nearer the object of his desire. His nose touched the plate on which the rosy slices of ham were lying.--Ah!

young people!--And then he s.n.a.t.c.hed a bit as quickly as we used to steal a kiss from sweet red lips when we were young.

"Bolster!" cried young Joseph as reproachfully as a mother could have done when she saw her daughter kissed so unceremoniously. But still he did not move, and Bolster--either because he thought he had a right to kiss all the sweet red lips in his kingdom, or because he had grown a hardened offender--looked at him impudently, wiped his mouth, and licked his lips for more. Joseph stared at him without moving, and in another moment Bolster was standing on the chair, this time with his hind legs also, and had set to work to finish the dish of sausages.--"Bolster!" cried young Joseph. "Mina, Bolster's eating up the sausages!" but still he did not move.--The crown-prince moved, however; as soon as he had finished the plate of sausages he went to the princ.i.p.al dish, the skillet containing the b.u.t.tered eggs.--"Mother, mother!" cried young Joseph, "he's eating up all the eggs now!"--Meantime young Bolster had burnt his nose in the hot skillet; he started back, and in so doing upset the skillet, and knocked the bottle of k.u.mmel over with his tail. The whole table shook, but still young Joseph did not move. He contented himself with shouting: "Mother! Mother! That beast of a dog is eating up all the eggs!"

"What are you bellowing at in your own house, young Joseph?" cried a voice at the door, and then some one came in who frightened Joseph considerably. He was so much startled that he let his pipe fall out of his mouth, raised both his hands, and exclaimed: "All good spirits praise G.o.d, the Lord!--Is that you reverend Sir, or is it you, Brasig?"

Yes, it was Brasig, or at least it was very like him, as Joseph would have seen if he had had time to look. But he had not time, for the new-comer had caught Bolster in the very act of pilfering, and was now rus.h.i.+ng about the room, looking in every corner for a stick with which to chastise the delinquent, his long black coat tails streamed behind him as he ran, and his angry red face showed between the high collar of his black coat, and his tall black hat which had fallen half over his eyes with the violence of his exertions. He looked for all the world like one of those terrible bogies with which nurses frighten naughty children. Young Joseph was no longer a child, but he was really alarmed; he started up from his chair, and holding on to the back of it tightly, kept shouting: "Reverend Sir!--Brasig!--Brasig!--Reverend Sir!"--But the crown-prince was still very young and so he was frightened out of his wits. The door was shut so that he could not make his escape that way. He rushed wildly round the room, till at last, springing at the window, he dashed right through it into the road, carrying a great part of it along with him.

The noise was enough to waken the dead, so why did Mrs. Nussler not come in from the kitchen? She did not appear till Brasig shoving his hat out of his eyes with one hand, and pointing at the broken window with the other, said: "It's all your fault, young Joseph! That poor creature the crown-prince didn't know that he was doing any harm. All the good k.u.mmel spilt!"--"Good gracious!" cried Mrs. Nussler, letting her hands fall limply by her side. "What's the meaning of all this, Joseph? Law, Brasig! How very odd you do look to be sure!"--"Mother,"

said young Joseph, "the dog and Brasig ..... What could I do?"--"For shame, young Joseph," cried Brasig, beginning to walk up and down the room, the long tails of his coat almost sweeping the pool of k.u.mmel as he pa.s.sed it, "Who is master in this house? Is it you or young Bolster?"--"But, Brasig, whatever induced you to make such a guy of yourself?" asked Mrs. Nussler.--"Ah!" replied Brasig, looking at her reproachfully, "what was to be done? I fell into the water yesterday evening during a _randyvoo_ with Mrs. Behrens, and my clothes were still too wet to put on this morning. And then the letter I got from you yesterday telling me that you wanted to consult me about family matters! How else could I have come?--And is it _my_ fault that the parson is as long as Lewerenz's child, as thin as a mere slip of a girl, and has a larger head than I happen to have got? Why did Mrs.

Behrens lend me her husband's clothes, and why did all the stupid labourers, who saw me in the distance on the path leading to Gurlitz church, call out: 'Good-morning, reverend Sir' when I was coming here in the kindness of my heart to help you out of your family difficulties?"--"Brasig," said young Joseph, "I swear ....."--"Swear not at all, young Joseph, for you will go to the bad place if you do.

Do you call it a family council when the k.u.mmel is lying in a pool on the floor, and I have to go about in the parson's clothes?"--"Brasig, Brasig," said Mrs. Nussler, who hardly recognised the friend of her youth in the angry little man, and who had been busily engaged in picking up the bits of broken gla.s.s, and straightening the table-cloth, &c., "that's a small matter. See now, I've got everything neat and tidy again."--Brasig could not keep up his anger when Mrs. Nussler spoke so kindly to him, so he merely growled out in a low voice: "Hang it, young Joseph, I used to hope that you'd grow wiser in time and cease to need leading strings, but what's bred in the bone comes out in the blood!

Well now, tell me what's the matter?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Nussler ...... "Yes," said young Joseph, and his wife stopped thinking that Joseph was really going to explain, but he only added: "It all depends upon circ.u.mstances!" So she went on: "You know that G.o.dfrey Baldrian, who is Joseph's nephew, is a very religious young man and has been working hard preparing to become candidate for a living--but you must often have seen him here?"--"Yes," said Brasig with a nod, "he's a very good young man, a sort of Methodist, and wears his hair combed straight down behind his ears to make him look like the pictures of our Lord. He tried to convert me once when he saw me going out to fish on a Sunday morning."--"That's the very man I mean. Well, he hasn't quite finished with the university yet, and his father, the school-master, wants us to let him come here for a time that he may study without interruption. And we wanted to ask you whether we ought to consent to this arrangement."--"Why not? Methodists are quiet, well-behaved people who only care about the conversion of others, and you, Mrs. Nussler, will provide them with an object, and young Joseph is--thank G.o.d!--not to be converted by me and young Bolster."--"That's all very well, Brasig, but the thick end of the wedge is coming. You see that Rudolph Kurz, another nephew of Joseph's, is also studying for Holy Orders, and we have had a letter from his father to say that as he understands that G.o.dfrey is going to lodge with us for a time, he would like us to take his son too. Now Rudolph has been amusing himself in Rostock instead of working, and his father thinks he'll be able to read better in a quiet place like this. But I just ask you how that's possible? If he didn't learn in Rostock where he had all sorts of learned professors to help him, do you think that he'll do any better when there's only Joseph and me?"--"I know him too," answered Brasig, "he's a very nice young fellow. Before he went to the university he caught me half-a-dozen perch in the black pool, the smallest of which weighed a pound and a half."--"Yes, of course, you know him. It was he who brought Mina safely down to us, when she was a silly little thing of six years old and had climbed up the ladder to the roof to see the stork's nest. I remember yet how she stood up there clapping her hands with glee while we stood below in an agony of fright. He could do that sort of thing quite well, but as for book learning, he never took kindly to that! Rector Baldrian tells me that he has been fighting a great deal in Rostock. Only fancy they fought with swords, and he, Rudolph, was one of them. The duels were about the daughter of a rich merchant at Rostock."--"Do you really mean to tell me that!" cried Brasig. "Bless me! So they really fought a duel for the sake of a merchant's pretty daughter! Ah, young Joseph, women are the cause of all the mischief that goes on in the world."--"Yes, Brasig, that's quite true; but what's to be done now?"--"I don't see much difficulty in answering," replied Brasig. "If you don't want the two young divinity students, write and say so; but if you want them, write and tell them to come. You've plenty of room for them, and can easily provide them with enough to eat and drink. As for their books, you'll have to look out a place for them to be stowed; and I should think they'd have a great number. If you are only going to take one of the young men, I advise you to choose the fighter, for I'd much rather be fought with than converted."--"That's all very fine, Brasig, but you see we have consented to take G.o.dfrey Baldrian, and the Kurzes would be angry if we were to refuse to receive their son."--"Very well then, take them both."--"But, Brasig, the two little girls .... they've just been confirmed .... Come, Joseph, speak."--And Joseph began: "It all depends upon circ.u.mstances. Look here, Brasig, Mina was--as you know--brought up to be a governess, and my old mother always used to say that it never did to have a governess and a divinity student in the same house."--"Ha, ha! Young Joseph! I understand you now. You mean that they'd fall in love. Pooh! nonsense! Little round-head in love!"--"Nay, Brasig, don't think it such a ridiculous idea!--I am their mother and so I ought to know. I wasn't as old as the twins when ...."--Mrs. Nussler stopped abruptly for Brasig's face grew very long, and he looked at her enquiringly.--Fortunately Joseph came to the rescue by saying: "Give Brasig something to drink, mother. Brasig, you see it might quite well happen, and what are we as their parents to do?"--"Let them alone, young Joseph! Why does G.o.d send young folks into the world, if He doesn't intend them to love each other? But the little round-heads!"--"It's easy for you to talk, Brasig," said Mrs. Nussler quickly, "but you shouldn't speak of a serious matter so lightly. Hatch a common looking egg and perhaps a basilisk creeps out!"--"Let it!"

cried Brasig.--"Let it, do you say?" exclaimed Mrs. Nussler, "then I don't agree with you. Joseph isn't of a nature to be anxious about anything. He wouldn't care if all the maids in the house were to fall in love, throw up their places and marry; while I--good gracious!--I have my hands full in trying to keep everything straight, and in holding my eyes open to see what they want to hide from me, for I know that a good deal goes on behind my back that ought not to be."--"But why not consult me?" asked Brasig.--"_You_," said Mrs. Nussler smiling, "you don't understand that kind of thing."--"What!" cried Brasig. "_I_ not understand, and yet I was once engaged to three women ...."--He got no further, for Mrs. Nussler's face lengthened as much as his own had done a short time before, and she looked at him so enquiringly, that he swallowed his gla.s.s of k.u.mmel at a single gulp to hide his embarra.s.sment--"It's a silly affair altogether," he said after a pause, "and it's all young Joseph's fault."--"Mine, Brasig! What had I to do with it?"--"What? I'll tell you. You let the crown-prince eat up your breakfast before your very eyes; you allow two divinity students to come and live in your house, and then you don't know how to get out of the sc.r.a.pe you've got yourself into. I--I give in--about the little round-heads, and the devil take the students! I'll watch the duellist; do you keep your eye on the Methodist, for he's the worst of the two."--"That's all that can be done," said Mrs. Nussler, getting up from her chair.