Axel, by the help of what remained of his sisters' money, slipped along
through the spring and half the summer of 1817, and, as he at last came
to the bottom of his purse, he preferred to sell his wool in
anticipation, rather than apply to his honest old neighbor. He saw, at
last, the thick knuckles of Pomuchelskopp behind the whole affair, and
his suspicion grew more and more lively that he had been sheared like
one of the sheep, and that his dear old neighbor had kept the wool,
though of what his chief aim might be he had not the least conception.
He grew colder and colder towards Pomuchelskopp, he no longer visited
him, he went out through the garden into the fields, when he saw from
the window the Herr Proprietor coming to call, and his wife rejoiced
silently at the change. We might rejoice, also, if he had acted
intelligently and with consideration, and had broken off the
intercourse with a cool head, but he worked himself up into such an
opposition to Pomuchelskopp, that he wished never to set eyes on him
again, and when the opportunity occurred, at the patriotic union at
Rahnstadt, and the Herr Proprietor pressed up to him in a very friendly
way, he not only snubbed him, but treated him in the most contemptuous
manner, and used such bitter words that all the people who were
assembled there took it for a reproach against Pomuchelskopp for his
money-lending. This was, if not dishonorable, certainly extremely
foolish, for he still owed Pomuchelskopp eight thousand thalers, which
he was not ready to pay, and, if he had known the Herr Proprietor as
well as he said, he must also have known what the effect of such
treatment would be. Pomuchelskopp could swallow a considerable dose of
rudeness, but this, in the presence of all the people, was too much for
him, and his vengeance lay too close at hand for him not to avail
himself of it. He said nothing, but he went round to Slusuhr the
notary: "You can give the Herr von Rambow notice on St. John's day, to
pay my eight thousand thalers on St. Anthony's. I know, now, where I
am; we shall get him in our fingers again, and he shall smart to pay
for it."
"If only Moses would give notice too!" cried Slusuhr, and this pious
wish was destined to fulfilment, but later. A change had also come over
young Jochen, although no one but Frau Nuessler had thought of it; she,
indeed, had long suspected that her Jochen would come to a bad end, and
that, at last, he would not allow himself to be ruled by any one. And
the time had now come. Jochen had, from the first, laid by money every
year: at first indeed, only a couple of hundred thalers; but afterwards
the hundreds became thousands, and though he did not trouble himself to
count the money, his wife told him, every New-Year's morning, how much
they had saved the past year, and his soul rejoiced in it, though he
scarcely knew why; but he had been accustomed to it now for many years,
and custom and life were, for Jochen, the same thing. When the bad year
came, Frau Nuessler said to Jochen at the harvest: "This will be a bad
year, you shall see we shall have to use some oL our capital."
"Mother!" said Jochen, looking at her with astonishment, "you wouldn't
do it!"
But this New-Year's morning his dear wife came and told him she had,
this year, taken up three thousand thalers, and God grant they might
get through with that! "We cannot let our people and our cattle
starve," she added.
Jochen sprang to his feet, a very unusual thing, trod on Bauschan's
toes, another unusual thing, looked stupidly in his wife's face, but
said nothing, which was not unusual, and went silently out of the
room, Bauschan following him. Noon came, Jochen was not there, a fine
spare-rib was smoking on the table, Jochen did not appear; his wife
called him, but he did not hear; she sought him, but he could not be
found; for he was standing in the dark cow-house, in one hand the
tar-bucket, in the other, the tar-brush, with which he was marking
crosses on his cattle; Bauschan stood beside him. After a long time,
his wife discovered him at this occupation.
"Good gracious, Jochen, why don't you come to dinner?"
"Mother, I have not time."
"What are you doing here in the cow-stable, with the tar-bucket?"
"I am marking the cows, that we must sell."
"God forbid!" cried Frau Nuessler, snatching the brush out of his hand.
"What is this? my best milk-givers!"
"Mother," said Jochen quietly, "we must get rid of some of our people
and our cows, they will eat us out of house and home." And it was
fortunate he had begun on the cattle, and not on the people, otherwise
the boys and girls might have been running about Rexow, that New Year's
day, with tar crosses marked on their backs.
With great difficulty Frau Nuessler coaxed him away from this business,
and got him into the house, but then Jochen announced it as his
positive decision, he would manage no longer, and he _could_ manage no
longer, and Rudolph must come, and marry Mining, and undertake the
management. Frau Nuessler could do nothing with him, and sent for
Braesig. And Mining, who had heard enough, for her share, fled to her
little gable-room, and held her little heart with both hands, and said
to herself that was wrong, why should not her father take his ease, and
why should not Rudolph carry on the farm, he was able, Hilgendorff had
written so; and, if Uncle Braesig was opposed to her in this matter, she
would tell him, once for all, she would no longer be his godchild.
When Braesig came, and the matter was explained to him, he placed
himself before young Jochen, and said to him, "What are you doing,
young Jochen? Painting your cows with tar crosses, on the blessed
New-Year's morning? and going to sell your wife's best milk-givers? and
going to give up the management?"
"Braesig, Rudolph can manage; why should not Mining get married, when
Lining is married? Is Mining any worse?" And he looked sideways at
Bauschan, and Bauschan shook his head.
"Jochen," said Braesig, "that is all right. You have spoken a very
clever word in your foolishness,"--Jochen looked up--"no, Jochen, it is
no special credit to you, it is only because it suits my ideas, for I
am of the opinion that Rudolph must manage here. Keep still, Frau
Nuessler," said he, "just come here, a moment." And he drew Frau Nuessler
into another room, and put the case before her. Until Easter, he should
stay with Pastor Gottlieb, and till then, he could look after matters
here; but, after Easter, Rudolph must manage, "and that will be good
for you," he added, "for he will make no tar crosses on your cows, and
it will be good for him too, he will get used to managing, by degrees,
and then, a year from Easter, we, will have joyful wedding."
"But, Braesig, that will never do, how can Mining and Rudolph live in
one house, what will people say?"
"Frau Nuessler, I know people have a very bad opinion of their
fellow-creatures when they are betrothed; I know, when I had
three,--eh, what was I saying? Well, Mining can go to Pastor Gottlieb's
at Easter, I shall go to Rahnstadt, to Habermann, and then my room will
be empty."
"Well, that would do," said Frau Nuessler.
And so it was all arranged. Rudolph came at Easter, but Mining must go,
and as she sat in the carriage with bag and baggage, she wiped the
tears from her eyes, and thought herself the most unfortunate being in
the world, because her mother had thrust her out of her father's house
among strangers,--by which she meant her sister Lining,--and that
without any reason; and she clenched her little fist, when she thought
of Braesig, for her mother had let it out that Braesig had advised it.
"Yes," said she, "and now I am to go into his room, which he has so
smoked up with tobacco, that one can write his name with his finger, on
the walls."
But how she opened her eyes, when she entered the room! In the middle
of the room stood a table, covered with a white cloth, and on it stood
a pretty glass vase with a great bouquet of such flowers as the season
afforded; snow drops and blue violets, yellow daffodils and hyacinths,
and under it lay a letter to Mining Nuessler, in Uncle Braesig's
handwriting, and as she opened it she was almost frightened, for it was
a copy of verses, and this was the first time she had received such
homage. Uncle Braesig had borrowed an old verse-book from Schultz the
carpenter, and found a couple of verses to suit him, and added another
out of his own head, and this was the letter:
"To my dear Godchild!
"The room is mine
And yet not mine,
He who was before me
Thought it his own.
"He went out
And I came in,
When I am gone
It will be so again.
"Yes, parting and leaving are sad,
But next year, we shall be glad,
Be good and contented here,
And the wedding shall be next year!"
Mining turned red a little, over the last line, and fell upon Lining's
neck, laughing and scolding Braesig; but in heart she waved him a
friendly kiss. And so Mining was here, Rudolph at Rexow, and Braesig
with the Frau Pastorin and Habermann at Rahnstadt.
There was not much change in Habermann, he still kept by himself,
although many troubled themselves about him; the rector preached him a
little sermon now and then, Kurz entertained him with agricultural
conversation, and old Moses hobbled up the stairs, and asked his advice
about his business; but this did not cheer the old man, he tormented
himself, day and night, with thoughts of his child, and with the
long-deferred hope that the day-laborer Regel might return, and by a
full confession free him from these shameful suspicions. The laborer
had sent letters, and also money, to his wife and children; but never
let himself be seen. The little Frau Pastorin had a secret anxiety lest
her old friend should become incurably morbid, and she felt truly
thankful, when Braesig finally came. Braesig could help her, and Braesig
would; if any one could, he was the man. His restless and yet
good-natured disposition left his Karl no peace, Karl must do this, and
do that, he must go walking with him, he must listen to all the stupid
books that Braesig got out of the Rahnstadt Circulating Library, and if
nothing else would rouse him, Braesig would make the most extravagant
assertions, till he had stirred Karl up to contradict him, and engaged
him in a dispute. In this way, there seemed a real improvement in
Habermann; but if the conversation turned upon Pumpelhagen or Franz, it
was all over, and the evil spirit came upon him again.
Louise was much better off, she was not one of the woman who believe
that if their love is blighted they must doctor themselves all their
lives, and must show the world, through a weary, dreamy behavior, how
sick their poor hearts are, that death alone can heal them, and that
they are of no more use in the world. No, she did not belong to this
species, she had strength and courage to bear a great grief by herself,
she needed not the compassion of the world. Deep, deep at the bottom of
her heart lay her love, like pure gold, and she granted no one a sight
of it, its very shining was locked up from the world, and when she went
into this secret place, in quiet hours, and looked at her treasure, she
changed it into little money for every-day use, and gave it out, here
and there, to all with whom she had to do; and _this_ love the world
perceived, but not the other. When our Lord sees such a heart striving
bravely against misfortune, and trying to turn it into good, then he
helps it, and sends many a chance to its help, of which no one thinks.
Chances men call them, but, rightly viewed, they are the consequences
of many other consequences, of which the first cause is hidden from our
sight.
Such a chance befell Louise, in the Spring after the Female
Vehmgericht. She was coming home from Lining's at Gurlitz, and going
between the Rahnstadt gardens, along a footpath, when a garden gate
opened, and a pretty little maiden stepped out, blushing rosy red, and
put into her hand a nosegay of lilacs and tulips and narcissus. "Ah,
take them," said the little assessor,--for it was she,--and as Louise
stood, rather astonished, not knowing how she came there, the tears ran
down the little assessor's cheeks, and she covered her hand over her
eyes, and said, "I should be so glad to give you a pleasure."
Well, that was so kind and friendly! Louise threw her arm about her,
and kissed the little assessor, and the latter drew her into the
garden, to the arbor, and then they sat under the blossoming lilacs,
and Louise and the innocent little girl conceived a warm friendship for
each other, for from the coals of love friendship is easily kindled,
and from this time the little assessor was a daily guest at the Frau
Pastorin's, and all in the house rejoiced at her coming. When Habermann
heard the first tone of the Frau Pastorin's old piano, he came down
stairs, and sat in the corner, and listened, while the little assessor
brought sweet music out of the old instrument, and when that was over,
the Frau Pastorin had her diversion, for the little assessor was a
doctor's daughter, and doctors and doctors' children always have
something new to tell, and although the Frau Pastorin was not exactly
inquisitive she was very glad to know what was going on in the world,
and since the time she had lived in the city this little peculiarity
had developed in her, and she said to Louise, "I don't know; but it
seems as if one was glad to know what is going on around one; but when
my sister Triddelsitz tells me anything, it all sounds so sharp, but
when little Anna tells anything it sounds so innocent and gay; she must
be a good little child."
But the real significance of this friendship first appeared when the
bad year came, and its consequences entered the little city,--poverty
and hunger and misery. Little Anna's father was a doctor, and he had no
title at all; but he had something better, he had a compassionate
heart, and when he had told of this and that, at home, the little
assessor would go to the Frau Pastorin and Louise, and tell it over
again, and the Frau Pastorin would go to her store-room, and into the
pantry, and down into the cellar, and pack a basket,--she always did
that herself, nobody else must meddle with it,--and the two little
maidens carried it off, in the half-twilight, and when they came back,
they gave each other a kiss, and the Frau Pastorin one, and Habermann
one, and that was all. And when the soup-kitchen was to be started, the
ladies of Rahnstadt held a great "perpendicle," as Braesig called it, to
decide what it was best to do, and the Frau Syndic said, "It should be
something noble," and when she was asked what she meant by that, she
said it was all one to her; but it must be noble, otherwise she would
have nothing to do with it. And the old Vehmgerichters said there must
be a distinction made between the wicked and the good poor, the wicked
might go hungry; and a young lady, who was just married, said they
ought to have gentlemen at the head; but that was a great mistake,
all were opposed to her, and the Frau Syndic said, so long as she
had lived--and that must be a good many years, interjected Frau
Krummhorn--cooking and nursing had come under the rule of the ladies,
what did men know about such things? but the business must be noble.
And the conventicle separated, as wise as it had been when it came
together, and when the soup-kitchen was started, two pretty little
maidens, in white aprons, served together at the fire, and put the
gifts for the poor into the soup-kettles, and sat down with the wicked
and the good poor, on the same bench, and peeled potatoes for the next
day, and scraped turnips, and this was the small money into which
Louise had changed her golden treasure, and the little assessor added
her groschens to the sum.
Now came Braesig, and relieved the little assessor of the out-door
errands, for he was peculiarly fitted for such duties, and when he had
not the confounded Podagra, he ran about the city, saying to Habermann,
"Karl, Dr. Strump says Polchicum and exercise, and the water-doctor
says cold water and exercise; they both agree on the exercise, and I
find that it is good for me. What I was going to say--Moses sends his
regards to you, and is coming to see you this afternoon."
"What? Has he got back from Doberau, from the baths? I thought he was
not to come back until August."
"Yes, Karl, it is St. James' day, to-day, and August is almost here.
But--what I was going to say,--the old Jew has quite renewed his youth,
he looks really well, and he ran about the room, just to show me how
spry he was. But I must go to old widow Klaehn, she is waiting in her
garden for me, because I promised her some turnip-seed, and then I must
go to Frau Krummhorn, she wants to show me her young kittens, to see
which one she shall keep for us, for, Karl, we need a good mouser; and
then I must go to Risch, the blacksmith, to see about the shoes for
Kurz's old saddle-horse. The old thing has wind-gall, as bad, I tell
you, Karl, as Moses' David's corns. You don't know, perhaps, if your
young Herr has got a horse with a wind-gall, he might like to buy the
old thing from Kurz, for the completeness of his lazaretto. And,
towards evening, I must go to the Frau Burgomeister, for they have
three or four bushels of rye, and I shall have a sort of feast, since
it was cut to-day, and I shall of course have Streichelbier, so that it
will seem quite like farming. Well, good-bye, Karl, this afternoon I
will read to you, for I have brought home an amusing book." And so he
ran off again, up street and down, like a Jack of all trades, toiling
for other people; for since in our little Mecklenburg towns the chief
interests turn upon farming matters, he advised here and prophesied
there, helped this one and that, and was soon the oracle and errand boy
of the whole city. After dinner he sat down by his Karl, with a book in
his hand, to read to him out of it, and if we peep over his shoulder we
may read the title; "The Frogs of Aristophanes, translated from the
Greek." We open our eyes; but how would the old Greek have opened his
eyes over the cultivation of the Rahnstadters, had he, after two
thousand years, peeped over uncle Braesig's shoulder, and perceived,
from the stamp, that his confounded Frog-nonsense was ranged with the
various "Blossoms" and "Pearls," and "Forget-me-nots" and "Roses," in
the Rahnstadt Circulating Library. How the rogue would have laughed!
Uncle Braesig did not laugh, he sat there very sober, he had on his horn
spectacles with the great round glasses, which shone like a pair of
coach-lanterns, he held the book as far from his body as his arm would
reach, and began:
"The Frogs of Aristop-Hannes--I read 'Hannes,' Karl, for I think
'Hanes' must be a mistake in the printing; for it told about
'Schinder-Hannes,' in a book I read once, and if this is only half as
dreadful, we may be well contented, Karl." Then he began, and read on,
in Schoolmaster Strull's style, and Habermann sat there, as if he were
paying close attention, but soon his old thoughts slipped in, and when
Braesig moistened his finger, to turn over the fourth leaf, he saw, with
righteous anger, that his old friend had closed his eyes. Braesig stood
up, and placed himself before him, and looked at him. It is an old
story, that the miller wakes when the mill stops grinding, and the
listeners wake when the sermon is at an end, and so it was with
Habermann; he opened his eyes, took a couple of puffs at his pipe, and
said, "Fine, Zachary, very fine!"
"How? you say 'fine,' and you are fast asleep."
"Don't take it unkindly," said the old man, coming, for the first time,
to full consciousness, "but I havn't understood a word. The book must
be very dry, or do you understand any of it?"
"Not much, Karl, but I have paid a groschen for it, and when I pay a
groschen, I want to get my money's worth."
"Yes; but if you don't understand it?"
"People read for other things than understanding, Karl; people read
_pour paster la tante_, with the books. Just see," and he was going to
explain this remark, when some one rapped at the door, and Moses came
in.
Habermann went up to him: "This is good, Moses! And how fresh you look,
really handsome!"
"So my Bluemchen tells me, but she has said that for these fifty years."
"Well, how did you like it, at the bath?"
"Do you want to hear some news, Habermann. One is pleased twice at the
bath, first, when one arrives, and secondly, when one goes away. It is
just as it is with a horse and a garden and a house, one is glad to get
them, and glad to get rid of them."
"Yes, you are not used to being idle, you had too much business in your
head."
"Well, what is business? I am an old man. My business is not to get
into new affairs, and to get my money out of the old. And I came to
talk to you about that; I am going to give notice of my seven thousand
thalers at Pumpelhagen."
"Oh, Moses, not yet! You would throw the Herr von Rambow into great
embarrassment."
"Well, I don't know, he must have money, he must have a great deal of
money. David and the notary and Pomuchelskopp have been at him, and
wanted to clear him out of his nest, this last New-year, but he paid
them eleven thousand thalers, at one time. I made it out from David. I
also heard it from Zodick. 'Where did you go yesterday?' I asked him.
'To the court,' he said. 'Zodick, you lie,' I told him. Then he swore
it, till he grew black in the face. But I kept saying 'Zodick, you
lie.' At last I said, 'I will tell you something,' said I. 'The horses
are mine, and the carriage is mine, and the coachman is mine; if you
don't tell the truth, I will send you away, and then you will be a
beggar.' Then he thought better of it, and told me about the eleven
thousand thalers, and yesterday he told me Pomuffelskopp had given him
notice of the eight thousand thalers, on St. Anthony's day. Now,
Pomuffelskopp is a shrewd man, he must know how he stands."
"God bless me!" cried Habermann, and his hatred was forgotten, and the
old attachment struck through him, without his being conscious of it
himself, "and do you mean to give notice, too? Moses, your money is
safe."
"Well, suppose it is safe. But I know many places where it would be
safer," and, looking sharply at the two old inspectors, one after the
other, he added, with a singular expression, "I have seen him, I have
also spoken with him."
"Whom? the Herr von Rambow? Where then?" asked Habermann.
"At Doberau, at the gaming-table I saw him," said Moses, venomously,
"and I spoke with him at my lodgings."
"Good heavens!" cried Habermann, "he never did that in his life before.
How has the unhappy young man come to that?"
"I always said," remarked Braesig, "this Herr Lieutenant was going to
the devil with his eyes open."
"Just heavens!" exclaimed Moses, "how they threw the gold about! They
had great heaps of louis-d'ors before them, and put them down here, and
put them down there, and shoved them here, and shoved them there, and
is that a business? and do you call that an amusement? A thing to make
one's hair stand on end! And there he was among them. 'Zodick,' said
I,--for Zodick had come with my carriage, I was going away the next
day,--'Zodick, place yourself here, and pay attention to the
Pumpelhagen Herr, how it goes with him,'--it made me sick to look on.
And in the evening Zodick came, and he said he had lost, and in the
morning the young Herr came to me, and wanted a thousand thalers. 'I
will tell you something,' I said, 'if you want me to be like a father
to you, then come with me; my Zodick is waiting with the carriage
before the door, I will take you with me; it shall not cost you a
shilling.' But he would'nt do it, he stayed there."
"The poor, unhappy man!" cried Habermann.
"This boy!" exclaimed Braesig, indignantly, "who has a wife and child!
Oh, if you were mine, I would teach you a lesson!"
"But, Moses, Moses!" cried Habermann, "I beg you, by everything in the
world, don't demand your money. He will come to his senses, and your
money is safe."
"Habermann," said Moses, "you are a shrewd man, too, but listen to me:
when I began the money business, I said to myself, when a man comes
cutting a great swell, with carriage and horses, and costly furniture,
then lend money, the man has something to pay it with; when one comes,
gay and merry and drinking champagne,--now, young folks will be young
folks! what they spend to-day, they can earn tomorrow,--then lend, too;
but when one comes with cards in his pocket, and bills in his pocket,
and throws his money by heaps into the gutter,--take care, I said, the
gambler doesn't get his money again out of the gutter. And then,
Habermann, what would the people say? The Jew, they would say, has laid
in wait for the young man, he has advanced him money for his play, that
he should ruin himself, and the Jew can find good fishing in the
troubled waters." And Moses rose to his feet: "No, the Jew, also, has
his honor! and no one shall come, and point to my grave, and say, 'They
tell bad stories about him.' And I am not going to lose my good name,
in my old age, for the sake of a young puppy like this. Has he not
stolen your honest name from you? and yet you are a good man, and a
sure man. No, sit down," said he, as Habermann sprang up, and strode up
and down the room, "I am not going to talk about that; but people are
different; you suffer it, and you have your reasons; I will not suffer
it, and I also have my reasons. And now, adieu, Habermann, adieu, Herr
Inspector,"--going out of the door,--"but I shall give him notice on
St. Anthony's day."
So from this side also, a storm was rising in Axel's sky, of which he
little dreamed; dark clouds gathered round him, and when the storm
should burst, who could tell if a shower of hail might not fall, which
should destroy all his springing hopes for ever. He, indeed, never
allowed himself to think that he might be playing a losing game, he
comforted himself with the good harvest, with the advances he should
receive from the grain and wool dealers, and also with other unforeseen
happy chances, which might possibly occur. But if such chances
sometimes come to a man's help, unfortunate chances often come, which
tax the courage of the strongest, and make him feel as if he were the
plaything of destiny. And so it happened in the year 1848.