THE FISHERMAN.
The usually turbulent lake Wenner, presented, on the evening of which we
are about to write, an unruffled and mirror-like appearance. In its
clear bosom was reflected the lofty cliffs of mount Kinnekulle, and
sloop after sloop passed over this gigantic image until a puffing
steamboat dashed over it and the picture was lost in the foaming spray
in her wake.
Almvik was situated on a truly romantic spot near the margin of the
lake, of which a magnificent view could be obtained from the mansion.
The surface of the lake this evening presented a pleasing spectacle.
Fishes were leaping out of the water near little boats which were
swinging at anchor, or were being pulled by sturdy fishermen who were
going forth to ensnare the subjects of the water Queen; but the proud
Queen, who, from her crystal palace beheld the danger, commanded her
subjects to retreat, and quickly the sportive fishes hastened to the
depths of the water that afforded them a barrier through which their
enemies could not break.
In consequence of these manoeuvers on the part of the water Queen, our
friend Mr. Fabian, who frequently endeavored to capture her subjects,
was invariably unsuccessful. Undoubtedly this must have been a source of
much misery to the poor man, for he was situated between two iron wills,
namely that of his wife and that of the water Queen; the latter would
not pay tribute, while the former demanded with all the firmness of an
absolute monarch, that the tribute should be forced from the water Queen
at all hazards.
After the above explanation our readers can well imagine Mr. Fabian's
feelings when after having congratulated himself that his wife's anger
with her nephew would occupy her mind for the entire evening, he
received a summons from her that the boat and fishing tackle were ready
for use.
Fishing was one of Mistress Ulrica's favorite pastimes, and although she
did not generally participate in it, yet when she observed her husband's
unskillfulness, she would indignantly cast aside her parasol, and grasp
the fishing rod. However it may be, whether the water queen below wished
to compliment the earthly queen above,--we know that ladies are prone to
be polite to each other--or that some truant fish remained behind to
become an easy prey to the enemy, suffice it to say that Mistress Ulrica
was generally fortunate; but she did not--as she might have done--make
use of her advantage, as she herself would say, "to cause her husband to
blush with shame."
When the dutiful husband arrived at the landing, he found his tender
wife, standing near the boat, clasping her child's hand in her own, and
our friend was obliged to see that his jewels were safely seated in the
boat. After he had rowed the skiff out as far as Ulrica thought was
proper, he with many misgivings threw out his line.
"How strange it is my dear Fabian, that every time you fish you sit
still there on your seat like a perfect automaton!"
With this preamble, Mistress Ulrica opened the floodgates of her
ill-humor, to which on occasions like the present especially she gave
perfect freedom.
"An automaton, my dear!"
"A post, a perfect post. You do not even turn your head; just as though
the company of your wife and child was the most wearisome thing of your
life."
But dearest Ulrique Eugenie, I must keep watch for a bite. If I turn
around--"
"You would not lose the sense of feeling if you should; but you hope, I
suppose, that persons on the shore will think you master of the boat.
Simpleton! What folly to think that!"
"Dear Ulrique Eugenie, shall I ask if you have spared my nephew your
ill-humor that you may vent it on me. It is my opinion--"
"What is your opinion, sir?"
"O nothing further than that I am sufficiently burdened with your
natural bad-temper already, without having it increased by the aid of
another."
"Burdened!--ill-humor--bad temper!--is the man mad? Do you thus speak to
me, your wedded wife, who bears your stupid indifference; your want of
tenderness and love with angelic forbearance? O, this is too much! It is
shameful! It is undeserved!"
"Now, now, Ulgenie, do not be so hasty. You know how patient I am."
"And what am I, then, to be married to such a musty husband? Your wife
is courted before your very eyes; you see nothing! you hear nothing!--I
could be unfaithful to you, and even then you would close your eyes. O,
fate! O bitter life! such a husband can drive a wife to desperation, and
from thence it is but one step to madness."
"Who is again playing the gallant to you?"
And in this "again," reposed an expression which displayed that such
scenes were not new to him. Mistress Ulrica, like other women, possessed
her weak points, one of which was that if a gentleman happened to
converse with her pleasantly, she immediately imagined that he was
desperately in love with her. But to her great sorrow, Mrs. Ulrica,
although she possessed entire control over her husband's actions, never
could make an Othello of him. Had Mr. Fabian but known her desire in
this respect, he could have deprived his wife of her sceptre, and taken
up the reins of matrimonial government himself.
A tyrannical husband would have been able to bend Mrs. Ulrica like a
reed, and to have trodden her under his feet which she would willingly
have kissed; but now Mr. Fabian kissed her feet, and therefore she
crushed him to the dust, and although she did not merit the reproach
that Desdemona received, it was, nevertheless, no fault of his. But of
what use would it have been even should she have merited it? Othello was
a fanciful creation which her husband of all men would have been least
willing to personate.
"My Fabian," she would say to herself, "my Fabian can never prove
unfaithful to me. He is too much of an idler, and thinks only of his
sofa, pipe and tobacco."
But we will resume the thread of the worthy couple's conversation.
"Who is again making love to you?" inquired Mr. Fabian again.
Mrs. Ulrica uplifted her reproachful eyes to Heaven. "He asks who! he
has not even observed it!"
"No, my dear wife, I have not."
"And yet he has this entire day--," she turned her face aside, feigning
to conceal a blush.
"To-day! Why we have had no gentlemen guests to-day, except the pastor's
assistant who came with the young ladies, and took his departure before
they did."
"No gentlemen guests! As if he, the accomplished scholar, and
entertaining gentleman, was nobody! and it was nothing that--"
"Well, what further?"
"That he, carried away by those charms, that you have so long observed
with indifference, should become deeply smitten with me."
"What! Do you think he entertains a secret affection for you?"
"Affection, I will not say affection; but passion, which word your dull
brain cannot comprehend, you virtuous and modest Joseph!" the lady
laughed at her own joke, and then continued, "I am not certain whether I
had better tell the young man that I have discovered his hope; but I
shall be forced to forbid his visiting me, which will be the same as
telling the whole world how this delicate affair stands."
"Will you permit me to give you a little advice?" said Mr. Fabian.
"Why not, Fabian, you are my husband, and as such you have the right to
do so."
"Then I would say, drop the subject where it stands."
"Are you not fearful! Do you not shudder at the possibility of an
unpleasant event?"
"O, my dearest Ulgenie, can I for a moment doubt your strength of soul,
your virtue?"
"It is true I am thus strongly armed, and I thank you, my dear Fabian,
for confiding in my faithfulness."--As was usual a few cheering
sun-beams followed the cooling shower.--"Forgive me, my dear husband,
for harrowing your feelings; but there are times when even the strongest
minded are weak."
"You are an exception, my love."
These confident words had nearly renewed the vexation within Mistress
Ulrica's bosom; but suddenly she was struck with an idea that caused her
to assume a still more affectionate expression of countenance.
"We will trouble ourselves no more concerning that deeply to be pitied
young man. I have something else which I wish to confide to you."
"Another lover?" inquired Mr. Fabian, widening his eyes.
"I refer to a youth, for whose welfare I am deeply concerned."
"Explain yourself, my dear."
"Fabian, you must not hate him, for the young man does not understand
himself, this I will answer for with my life, and perhaps he only
indulges a platonic affection for one who realizes the romantic ideas
which his youthful imagination had formerly brought forth."
"You do not mean Gottlieb, do you?" inquired Fabian, unsuccessfully
endeavoring to conceal a laugh.
"Fabian, why do you speak so sardonically? If in spite of your
watchfulness, his has, unobserved by you, paid a tribute to your wife's
beauty, you must remember that he did not know he was sinning. It was
merely an accident that made me acquainted with the secret of his
heart."
"Will you permit me to inquire what that accident was?"
"With pleasure. I had--I tell you this in confidence--I had chosen one
of the pastor's daughters as his wife; I invited her to Almvik to-day,
but he avoided her presence. He retired to that solitude which he seeks
every evening either before or after we go out on our drive. A certain
instinctive sentiment causes him to leave the house when you are absent,
and more than all, when I reproached him for his faults, and pointed to
the advantageous match I had in view for him, he had the boldness to say
that he would retain to himself the right of disposing of his own
heart."
"And do you believe, my dear, that you are the first cause of this
trouble?"
"I have felt grieved at the thought that it might be so, nothing
further."
"Well, well, dear Ulgenie, I will release you from this burden on your
conscience."
Mr. Fabian, who always found it a difficult matter to converse long upon
a serious matter, spoke the above words in a tone of voice especially
lively, for his heart was rejoiced at the thought that now he had an
opportunity of ridding himself of an unwelcome guest, without giving
cause for any one to believe that it was his own desire to do so.
"What are you babbling about?" inquired Mistress Ulrica, sharply, "what
do you know about my nephew's affairs?"
"Nothing further than that he has had a little love affair of his own,
which occupies his attention during those solitary walks you referred to
a moment ago."
"He! Gottlieb! Has he dared to fall in love!"
"Certainly."
"Impossible!"
"But I assure you that it is true, and if you will ask him why he so
frequently visits the valley, he certainly will not deny that he goes
there for the purpose of meeting handsome Nanna, the daughter of old Mr.
Lonner. He reads poetry to her, and under the pretence of teaching her
the guitar, he finds an opportunity of pressing her pretty little white
hands."
"If that is true. If he, while he remains under my roof, enters into
such a miserable intrigue, I will--for I consider it my duty as
occupying the place of his mother--I will to-morrow morning mar his
plans. But how did you learn this?"
This was a question which Mr. Fabian could not truthfully answer, for if
he should do so, he would have been obliged to state that he, after his
disagreeable parting with Magde, had taken a roundabout path towards
Almvik, which conducted him so near the valley that he discovered two
persons sitting beneath the tree near the fountain, and that from that
day forward he had closely watched Gottlieb's movements, so that he
might be enabled to hold a weapon over the one who might perhaps be a
spy upon his own actions.
It was therefore an accident which opened Mr. Fabian's eyes to
Gottlieb's crime; but he had not wished to play the part of an accuser,
O, no, for such love affairs were common to all young men, at least he
thus assured his wife.
"Make no excuse for him, sir," interrupted Mistress Ulrica sharply,
"this indeed is excellent, and will become still richer if not prevented
in time. The reproaches of a mother on the one hand, and the curses of a
father on the other; a seduced girl, perhaps something worse; a criminal
investigation, and a scandal in which our house, and possibly
ourselves, will figure largely; all this we must expect. As true as my
name is Ulrique Eugenie, this matter shall have an end, and a speedy
end, too."
"But how will you accomplish that?" inquired Fabian.
"That I shall attend to myself. Gottlieb has said that he should like to
travel over the mountains into Norway. Now then he can go to Amal, and
from thence he may commence his journey. He shall have money, but must
obey me."
* * * * *
The following morning, after Mistress Ulrica had convinced herself by
her own eyes of the truth of her husband's report, for she followed
Gottlieb to the meadow that morning instead of taking her usual ride,
Gottlieb was summoned to her apartment, and underwent an examination
that nearly exhausted his entire stock of patience. The interview
resulted in his determination to accept his aunt's proposal, that he
should take a journey into Norway. He did not inform Nanna, however, of
the cause of his sudden departure, for he feared that it would grieve
her.
Their last interview was cheered by bright anticipations of the day when
Gottlieb should return and observe the improvement which Nanna should
make, both in her performance on the guitar, and in her education; for
when his aunt had made a contract of peace with him, Gottlieb had
insisted that Nanna should have the guitar, to which clause the old lady
consented.
The young couple parted in the hope of a joyful meeting, and Gottlieb's
farewell kiss did not assist Nanna to forget him.
The next day after Gottlieb had taken his departure, Jon Jonson's sloop
arrived in the bay opposite the little cottage in the valley.