I waited down by the village saw-mill, where they already knew that
Ernst's bride was coming to live with us. With all his gentleness and
candor, Ernst had announced this in order that we should be bound by
it. I met Rautenkron the forester, who was known in the whole
neighborhood as "The wild huntsman."
He was the best of shots, and could endure no living object. The people
thought he merely avoided men, but I knew that he hated them. He always
considered it a piece of good fortune when he heard bad news of any
one. He lived in solitude, for whenever he had been seduced into
helping some one he had always repented of it afterward. A ball had
once passed through his hat, and, during the examination, the
magistrate had said to the officer, "If he should ever be killed by a
shot, you had better examine the whole village, for we shall all have
had a share in it." He lived strictly within the law, however. He did
not want to be beloved: it was his boast that every one could say, "He
is severe, but just." He had no consideration either for rich or poor.
He was in the vigor of life, with a gray beard, aquiline nose, and
wondrously clear liquid blue eyes, of a piercing brilliancy.
He came up to me with a friendly air, that was quite unusual on his
part, and told me that Ernst had been with him that day.
Ernst had said nothing to me of this. Rautenkron declared that he did
not concern himself about other people, but that he was really sorry
that Ernst was about to throw himself away. Here was another young man
who was fit for heroic deeds, but was ruined in this good-for-nothing
age, and was about to sacrifice his life to a coquettish forest girl.
It was unpardonable that we should countenance him in this, and consent
to take a creature from out of the thicket into a house which had
always borne so honorable a name.
"Mark my words! She will be just like a young fox that is caught before
he has finished his growth,--he will never be perfectly tamed, but will
run away to his home when you least expect it, and be right in doing
so."
It is always galling to hear pure affection thus abused and
misconstrued.
I endeavored to change the subject, but Rautenkron affected not to hear
me, and indulged in the most violent language against the stranger.
Indeed, he prophesied that our thoughtless conduct would drag us into
misfortune, and called the miller to bear witness to what he thus told
me.
I abruptly refused to continue the subject, and now Rautenkron called
out to me, his eyes beaming with joy, "Enough. Let us speak of
something else. I have to-day done one of the prettiest deeds of my
life. Shall I tell you what? All right! You know Wollkopf the wood
dealer. He has such a mild, insinuating way about him, but always eyed
me as the usurer does a suspicious-looking pledge. He did not trust me.
'But,' thought I to myself, 'just wait! I will bide my time; he will
come yet.' And he has come at last, within shooting distance too. At
the last sale of wood in my district, he had bought a large lot of
logs, and then came up to me and said that he wanted to speak plain
German with me. Now listen to what the honored town-councillor--you
know that is his position--the acknowledged man of honor, calls plain
speaking! He offered me a bribe if I would keep such and such logs out
of his lot. Of course I agreed. Smoking our cigars, we went on walking
through the woods. I quickly cut down an oak sapling, pulled the
branches from it, and with the green wood beat the lean man of honor to
my heart's content. He cried out with all his might, but no one heard
him save the cuckoo, and I enjoyed beating him until he was black and
blue; just as the cuckoo enjoys swallowing the caterpillar which
poisons the fingers of your soft-skinned gentry. I tell you there is no
greater pleasure than administering personal chastisement to a sharper.
Men say that the kiss of the beloved one is good; perhaps it is, but
this is better.
"And when I was satisfied, and he too, I suppose, had enough, I let him
run, and said to him, 'Now, my sweet gentleman, you may sue me if you
choose; but, if you do, it will be my turn to tell my story.'"
While Rautenkron told his story, his features acquired an uncanny
expression of glee. I must admit that I did not begrudge the sharper
the beating he had received; and besides that, the recital had engaged
my attention, and thus had relieved me from the sad thoughts which had
before that filled my mind.
It was already dusk when the wagon arrived. It halted. My wife said to
the girl who was sitting at her side, "This is father. Speak to him."
"I hope you are well, father!" exclaimed the girl.
I heard Rautenkron beside me muttering angrily. His words, however,
were unintelligible. Without saying more he hurried off into the
forest.
"What ails the misanthrope now?" said my wife. "But why need that
trouble us? My child, you had better get out here and follow with
father."
I helped the child to alight. She seemed loth to obey.