In which Friedrich translates the Prussian motto "suum cuique" for
the Miller's benefit, and goes on a wild-goose chase after the
Frenchman: and the Miller finds he has sat down on a swarm of
bees.
"Miller," said Friedrich as they left the mill and came out into the
high road, "have you ever seen an old woman break her pitcher and then
put the pieces together and say 'that's how it was?'"
"Why?" asked the Miller.
"Oh! nothing," said Friedrich, and he waved his whip vacantly over the
horses as if it were the season for flies. The Miller sat lost in
thought.
After a time Friedrich asked again--"Miller, have you ever seen a boy
out of whose hand a sparrow has just escaped, look into his empty hand
and say 'O!'?"
"Why?" asked the Miller.
Friedrich simply repeated "Oh! nothing."
The Miller sat still again, and all sorts of things passed through his
mind, and he puzzled over some such rule-of-three sum as: "What will
the bushel of oats come to next Easter if I don't pay the Jew
to-morrow?" and was soon lost in the fractions.
They drive on and on. At last Friedrich turns half round and
asks--"Miller, do you know the proverb: 'don't pour your dirty water
away till you have got clean'?"
The Miller began to get angry, and after thinking for some time what
Friedrich was driving at with these questions, he said: "Are you
chaffing me?"
"Chaffing?" said Friedrich. "No, heaven forbid!--I didn't mean
anything.--But I know another saying, and that is, 'If you have a
thing, you've got it.' And we Prussians have an eagle for our crest,
and underneath is a Latin verse which fits that saying as close as your
finger and thumb when you nip a pig's tail. And the sergeant of my
company--he was a runaway student--he understood the verse and
translated it: 'Hold fast what you've got, and take what you can get.'
Now, this proverb is handy at times, 'specially in time of war."
Turning round again he went on. "Miller Voss, cursed be the shilling I
steal from my neighbour, and cursed be the wheat, oats, or barley I
cheat my master of; but in time of war it's quite different. The Turks
and the French are the country's enemy, and the country's enemy is not
better by a hair than the arch-enemy. What said old Captain von
Restorp? 'Injury must be done to the enemy in every way!' Now, Miller
Voss," and he pointed to the valise, "that would be an injury."
"Hold your tongue," said the Miller sharply, "the thing is settled.
I'll have nothing to do with the money, I'll take it to the
bailiwick,--and I wish I could take the Frenchman along with it. Fieka
thinks some bad end will come of the business."
"As you please," said Friedrich, "Gee up," and he touched the horses
with his whip. "Some listen to men, and some listen to women; for my
part I don't hold by women's advice."
"Nor I neither generally," said the Miller.
They drove on silently again till at length Friedrich asked--"Miller,
who was that young fellow who came to the mill this morning?"
"That was Joe Voss's son; it's him I have the lawsuit with. Do you like
him?"
"I only saw his back. Well--yes he'd make a grenadier."
"He says he wants to come to an understanding," said the Miller.
"Then I like him still better; a lean compromise is better than a fat
lawsuit."
"He is going to wait for me till I come back."
"Is he?" said Friedrich, and turned half round again, "Miller, I tell
you what, it would be better if he came to an understanding with
Fieka."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the Miller.
"Oh! nothing," said Friedrich.
Presently he bent down and looked sharply along the road, then gave the
reins into the Miller's hand, jumped off the waggon, unfastened the
Chasseur's horse and, before Voss knew what was going to happen, was in
the great Kolpin dyke, had turned round a corner and bound the horse to
a thorn-tree in the dyke, so that he could not be seen.
"What is the matter?" asked the Miller, when he came back.
"What's the matter? Why, two men are coming along on horseback, out
yonder by the Stemhagen fields, and just now when the sun came out, I
saw a bright flash. Those are Frenchmen, and if they were to catch a
Chasseur's horse here with bridle and saddle, they would have something
to say to us;--take my word for it."
"True," said the Miller.
When they came to the Stemhagen wood. Friedrich pointed with his whip
to the beech-tree where the straw still lay, and said: "That's where I
laid him."
"If he were only there now!" sighed the Miller.
"You can't expect it, Miller. For it rained in torrents last night, and
a beech-tree is not quite waterproof at this time of year."
"True," said the Miller again.
Whilst they were still talking, the two Frenchmen rode up, and asked
the way to the Gielow mill; for several roads met here. Before the
Miller could answer, Friedrich pointed to the right, the way to
Cumrowsch wood, and on their asking how far it was, he said "a little
_lieu_," whereupon they rode off.
"Are you possessed by the devil?" asked the Miller. "If they go on
riding that way, they may look at the Gielow mill with their backs all
their lives. But what was it for?"
"Those sorts of fellows leave a house cleared out, and I have no wish
to eat warmed-up cabbage for the first breakfast every morning."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I only mean--look here, Miller; who knows but what those two, if
they had gone to the mill, might have fallen in love with our Stiena.
And perhaps they might have followed her into the cowhouse, and the
cowhouse might have seemed a little crowded, and they might have led
out our two milch-cows; and when they had got them out, it might have
come into their heads to drive them away, and then we should have no
more boiled milk for breakfast, and the cabbages would have come on in
their turn and I can't bear cabbages."
"Yes, that is possible," said the Miller.
"But maybe they weren't after cows at all," Friedrich went on after a
short pause. "They were a couple of your mounted Gensdarmes, and they
are no doubt looking for something very different. I think it's a mercy
we are not at the mill, for--Miller, we must look out--they are after
the Frenchman or perhaps after you. Who knows what has happened in
Stemhagen. Something may have come out. Perhaps Fieka was right after
all. I should be glad myself now, if we had the Frenchman with us."
"That's what I said, that's what I said," cried the Miller.
"Hm," said Friedrich, "he lay here, and he's got up, and he has gone
down here, these are his marks in the mud; and look--he has dragged the
straw along with him a little way, and he's gone towards Guelzow. Now,
I'll bring you back the horse, and then you can drive to the bailiwick
and deliver up bag and horse together, and I will go after the
Frenchman and stop him."
So the horse was fastened to the waggon once more, and Friedrich
started off towards Guelzow, and said to himself:
"Dumouriez! I've brought the Miller into a pretty mess, and our Fieka
is, after all, a clever girl. But if the Frenchman is to be found
between here and Gripswald, I'll find him."
The Miller drove towards Stemhagen. "Lord of my life!" he said, "If it
had not been for my little Fieka, most likely I should be sitting in
irons now. And I'm many miles from safe yet, for the devil's only just
beginning his work.--It's raining, too, and pretty heavily!"
The first person he met when he reached the Stemhagen Barns was Witte,
the baker, standing before his barn by a waggon of straw:
"Good morning, neighbour," said Witte. "What the thunder! How came you
by that French horse?"
"Well, I'll tell you," replied Miller Voss; and he briefly narrated the
story.
"That's ugly," said the baker, "for the whole town is filled with
French, and you couldn't get the horse through without being seen. I
advise you to leave him here in my empty barn."
This was done. Old Baker Witte drew his crooked brass comb through his
hair several times, shook his head and said:
"Neighbour, you have let yourself in for a scrape you won't get out of
easily, and up at the Schloss things don't seem to be quite right; for
this morning the Herr Amtshauptmann sent for the roll he takes with his
coffee, at eight o'clock instead of eleven. And Fritz Sahlmann says
Mamsell Westphalen has disappeared--not a soul knows where she is to be
found--and the watchmaker has been thrown into prison--that I saw with
my own eyes; and people are talking about court-martials and
executions."
"Lord, save us!" cried the old Miller. "What a swarm of bees I have sat
down on! But it can't be helped; I must take the bag up to the Schloss.
And, neighbour, I'll drive round the town till I get near the green
gate of the Schloss garden, and then I'll fasten up my horse. You
follow to take care of him and the cart, and if I am carried off to
prison, drive over to the mill and break the news gently to my wife and
Fieka; and tell the young man you'll find there to do his uncle the
favour of looking after the house and mill, and not to leave the
women."
Baker Witte promised, and the Miller drove round, as they had agreed,
tied up his horse, and was proceeding on his way on foot, when Farmer
Roggenbom's waggoner, Johann Brummer, dashed through the gate, lashing
his four greys till they struck out behind and bespattered the Miller
with mud.
"Better mud in my face than your lashes across the back," cried the
Miller.
"Hmm! It only wanted this. Robbers!" grumbled old Zanner of Gielow, as
he drove full gallop with his cream-coloured horses through the gate
after Brummer.
"Yes," said Adler of Stemhagen, who had thrown a sack over his
shoulders (the only waterproof coats known in those days), giving his
black saddle-horse a dig in the ribs; "it would be nice work for us to
be drawing cannons, wouldn't it, old fellow? No! I'll take you to the
Stemhagen wood, and fasten you to a tree by the sand-pit. It's all one
here or there, for there's nothing at home for you to eat--confound it,
how it's raining!"
When the Miller entered the garden, he found it all alive--peasants
hustling and bustling about, hiding their carts and waggons, some
behind the bushes and some behind the ramparts.
"Miller Voss," said the son of the Schult Besserdich of Gielow, "hide
your horse. Everyone who is wise is taking advantage of this rain, for
the French have all crept under cover."
But the old Miller went steadily on, and took the valise to the
Schloss.