Luckily, however, it seemed that his fears were groundless. It is true
that Aunt Rikchen could hardly open her mouth without Uncle Ernst
cutting short the thread of the story. Nor did Ferdinanda join much in
the conversation; but that at first was not so remarkable, and was
easily explained by the fact that Uncle Ernst was most anxious to
obtain from Reinhold a comprehensive account of his life and adventures
during the many years in which they had not met, and listened to him
with attention that would admit of no interruption.
During their conversation, Reinhold had many opportunities of observing
the unusual extent and depth of his uncle's knowledge. He could not
mention any town, however distant, of which the situation, history, and
mercantile relations were not thoroughly well known to him. He
expressed to his uncle his surprise and admiration at this.
"Why, what would you have?" was the answer. "When a man is born a poor
devil, and not, like you, lucky enough to be able to follow his own
inclinations in his profession, but, as boy, youth, and man, ground
down with hard work for his daily bread, till he has reached old age,
and it is too late for him to set out on his wanderings, what is there
left for him but, with map in hand, to read and study, that he may find
out how vast and how beautiful the Almighty has made this world?"
When Uncle Ernst spoke thus, all harshness and severity vanished from
his voice, and all gloom from his stern features; but it was only for a
moment, then the dark cloud settled once more upon eyes and brow, like
the grey mist upon the snowy mountain-top, which but a moment ago
glistened in the sunshine.
Reinhold could not look enough at the fine old face, with its
ever-changing expression, though there was never the least trace of
weakness or littleness--it was always strong and resolute; and at the
noble head, which, with its thick curly hair and bushy beard, now
turning grey, seemed more dignified, more commanding even than in
former years. And he could not help being constantly reminded of
another face, opposite which he had sat but a few evenings ago--General
von Werben's--also the face of a handsome, stern old man, more
concentrated and self-controlled, indeed, and lacking that mighty fire
which in the other burst forth in brilliant flashes, to be, as it were,
forcibly restrained, and left to smoulder and perhaps flame afresh.
From the very first, Reinhold had thought that this inward fire, so
hardly restrained, was threatening to burst forth in all its thunder
and storm, and was only awaiting its opportunity; and it was soon
proved to him that he had not been mistaken.
He had arrived in his account of his wanderings at the day when he
received in Southampton the news of the Declaration of War, when,
throwing up all engagements and forsaking his usual occupation, he
hurried back to Germany to fulfil his duties to his threatened
Fatherland.
"This resolution," he cried, "was called forth by enthusiasm; it was
carried out with absolute devotion, and with all my mental and physical
powers, from first to last, without once, I may truly say, getting
weary, once faltering, once doubting that the cause to which I had
devoted myself was a holy one, however unholy and sanguinary the garb
in which it might, indeed must, be decked. Then when the great goal was
reached at last--greater, better, more complete than I--ay, than any
who were with me in the battle--had thought or expected, hoped or
wished--then I returned to my old employment, and once more launched my
ship upon the seas, with the calm and joyful feeling of having
fulfilled my duty; safe, wherever the uncertain career of a sailor may
lead me, to find a spot of home under the German flag; and in the full
assurance that you, in our beautiful Fatherland, will never lose what
has been so hardly won, and that in good time the great work so nobly
planned, so powerfully begun, will be finished and completed, and that
when I returned home it would be to a country full of joy and peace,
and sunshine in every heart and on every face. I must own, however,
that during the short time that I have been at home, I have noticed
many things which would seem to mock my hopes, but I cannot believe
that I have seen rightly. On the contrary, I am convinced that it has
so chanced that I have only come in contact with men who, upon some
entirely personal ground, are dissatisfied with the state of affairs,
or, at least, not perfectly satisfied with their present condition, as
was the case with several men whom I met at Count Golm's. Even in that
exclusive circle I did not conceal my opinion, not even from the
sceptical President of Sundin, whom I met only yesterday; rather I
expressed myself openly and strongly. And now here, amongst my own
family, at your table, Uncle Ernst--you who have struggled and suffered
so much for the happiness and honour of your country--there can be no
question of reserve, and I may feel secure of the warmest sympathy and
most entire approval."
Uncle Ernst had been listening, with his head supported on his hand, in
silence; suddenly he looked up, and in a voice which boded no good,
said:
"Forgive my interrupting you, to point out to you that I agree with the
minority to whom you refer. I always think it right that when a man is
speaking he should know if his audience does not agree with him."
There was an unusually stern look in the commanding eyes, which
Reinhold did not fail to observe. One moment he hesitated whether to be
silent or to continue. But supposing he only stayed a few days in the
house, this topic must constantly form a subject of conversation; and
if, as unfortunately there was now no doubt, his uncle differed from
him in opinions, it would be worth his while to arrive at the ideas of
such a man upon the point. So he said:
"I am very sorry, my dear uncle, for the sake of the cause,
and--forgive me for saying so--for your sake."
"I do not understand."
"I mean that the cause is so important and so weighty that it needs
every pair of strong shoulders to help it on, and it is so great and so
sacred that I pity those who either will not or cannot help and advise
with all their hearts."
"Or cannot!" exclaimed Uncle Ernst. "Just so! Have I not helped and
advised as long as I could! At the barricades in the days of March, on
the benches of the National Assembly and everywhere and at any time
where it was possible for a man--at least a man of honour--to put his
shoulder to the wheel as you call it. I will not dwell upon the fact of
that shoulder having been wounded, more than once, of my having been
cavilled at, interfered with, summoned before the authorities, and shut
up in prison; that was natural, other and better men than I have fared
no better, but worse--much worse. Well! it was a struggle then--a
struggle carried on with very unequal weapons, perhaps, a desperate
one, but still a struggle. What have we got now but a market and a
huckster's shop, where you may bargain, backwards and forwards, over
the counter for piece after piece of our old proud flag of freedom,
with the man who has them all in his pockets and who they know has them
there?"
The cloud upon his brow grew darker, his eyes flashed, his voice took a
deeper tone, a storm was at hand; Reinhold thought it advisable to draw
in a little.
"I am no politician, uncle," said he, "I think my talents do not lie in
that direction, and I have had but little time to cultivate them. At
all events I cannot contradict you when you say that unhappily
everything is not as it should be in this country; but then you too
must admit, as those gentlemen of whom I spoke admitted to me, that the
cause viewed from another point, I mean from without, from the deck of
a ship, from some distant port across the waters, takes another and far
better aspect; and I think you cannot take it amiss if I say that I
think more highly of this man--and, in fact, have a great respect for
him, feeling that it is owing to him that the name of Germany has
gained the respect of the whole world."
"I know the burden of that song," said Uncle Ernst, "he has sung it
often enough, crafty old bird-catcher! he is always singing it to snare
the birds into his net. Who brought about the events of 1864, of 1866,
of 1870? _I_ did! I! I!"
"And is he not right?"
"No, a thousand times no!" cried Uncle Ernst. "Because a man removes
the last spadeful of earth, has he an exclusive right to the treasure
which other men, with untold labour and fatigue, have toiled and digged
for in the depth of the earth? Schleswig Holstein would still be Danish
if our young nobility had had to conquer it; Germany would still be in
a thousand pieces had it been left to them to join it together; still
would the raven be hovering over our ruined hovels were it not for the
thousands and thousands of patriotic hearts and heads that have been
filled with enthusiasm for the unity of Germany, the hearts and heads
of men who have thought day and night of her greatness, but have never
been gifted and honoured with pensions and titles!"
"Do you know, uncle," said Reinhold, "I think that it is with German
unity as with many another great matter. In imagination many started to
go round the world, in reality one man did at last go, and he
discovered--America."
"It strikes me," said Uncle Ernst angrily, "that he who discovered it
was called Columbus, and was imprisoned in lieu of thanks, and died in
misery. He who came after him and reaped his glory, and after whom the
new world was named, was a miserable thief unfit to tie the other's
shoes."
"Now really!" exclaimed Reinhold, unable to resist a smile, "I do not
believe that there is another man in the world who would speak like
that of Bismarck."
"Very possibly," replied Uncle Ernst; "I believe that there is not
another man in the whole world who hates him as I do."
Uncle Ernst drank off the glass, which he had just filled, at a
draught. Reinhold noticed that he had already made rather free with the
bottle, and he thought he observed that the hand which guided the glass
to his lips again trembled a little, and that the formerly steady
glance of the great eyes was troubled and uneasy.
"That comes of arguing," said Reinhold to himself. "What did I excite
his anger for? Let every man think as he likes. I ought to have changed
the subject."
While they were driving through the town he had already mentioned the
wreck of the steamer and the subsequent events, so that he was able
without any difficulty to refer back to it and continue his account of
how very kindly he was received by the President in Sundin, and what
prospects had been opened before him. He pictured the man to the life,
now veiling himself in diplomatic obscurity, now giving his opinion
upon men and things with the greatest freedom, but through every
apparent change keeping his aim in view.
"You do not describe the man badly at all," said Uncle Ernst. "I knew
him very well, as far back as 1847, when he sat on the extreme right in
the United Parliament. Now he belongs to the opposition, I mean to the
concealed opposition of the old-fashioned officials who quarrel with
the all-powerful Majordomo and would be glad to see his clever rule cut
short to-day rather than to-morrow. There are worse men than he, but I
wish you had not gone to such lengths with him."
"I have not yet committed myself to anything," answered Reinhold; "nor
will I do so till I have quite convinced myself that the situation
which I am offered will be a sphere of action to which my talents and
capacities are suited. If that is so--then I must take it."
"Must? Why?"
"Because I have vowed to serve my country by land and sea," replied
Reinhold, smiling. "My duty by land I have performed, now I must seek
it by sea."
"It seems to me that service has become necessary to you," said Uncle
Ernst, with a grim smile.
Reinhold could see that he was trying to joke, but he was determined,
as far as it concerned himself and his own ideas and convictions, not
to give in to his inexorable opponent in the smallest degree.
"Why should I deny," said he, "that the strictness of Prussian military
discipline has deeply impressed me. At home in our little republican
community everything is pretty slack; no one thoroughly understands the
art of commanding, and no one will allow himself to be commanded. Now
in a ship there is but one who ought to command, the rest must obey.
But none have learnt what they have now got to put in practice; the
officers are too often found wanting; they begin with abuse and
bluster, where mild firmness would be proper, and then again let off
the men very easily, and drop the reins where they ought to pull them
tight. The men bear such capricious management the less well that they
are mostly an unruly set, who are only waiting for an opportunity to
throw off the yoke which oppresses them. So there come rubs on all
sides, and one must be thankful if matters do not go from bad to worse,
as happens unfortunately often enough, and has happened to me more than
once. And if during a long sea-voyage a man is lucky enough to get his
authority established and to introduce some order and discipline
amongst the crew, he is in port again by that time, and at the next
voyage the whole thing has to be begun over again. There is no question
of all this in the army. Every man knows beforehand that unquestioning
obedience is his first and last duty; yes, and what is more, each one,
even the most unruly, feels that disobedience would be not only a
crime, but that it would be madness, for if one man commit the
slightest mistake the whole body is put out, he feels that this
wonderful, fearfully complicated machine called the Army, can only work
when every little wheel and every screw is in its place, and doing what
is ordained for it to do at the precise moment."
"For example they must shoot down in the ditch at Rastadt those who do
not agree with them as to what is good for their country--and so on,"
said Uncle Ernst.
Reinhold did not answer. What could he answer? How could he hope to
come to any understanding with a man whose views were so diametrically
opposed to his own in all things, and who always pushed these views to
their furthest limit without offering any concession to him even as a
guest, when only an hour ago he had received him with such hearty
affection almost as a father would welcome his son after a long
separation?
"Perhaps I have made a lasting breach between us," thought Reinhold. "I
am sorry, but I cannot give myself up bound hand and foot to the mercy
of this old tyrant. If I am not able to find a topic which will please
this rugged nature, I must get the ladies to help me; it is their
place."
Aunt Rikchen had plainly read his thoughts in his face. She answered
his silent request by a quick furtive glance and an almost
imperceptible shrug of the shoulders, as if to say, "He is always like
that now! There is no help for it." Ferdinanda did not seem to notice
the interruption. She sat as she had sat almost throughout the whole
meal, with a fixed, absent look on her face, gazing straight before
her, and took no notice even now, when her aunt turned towards her to
say a few words. Uncle Ernst, who was just about to refill his empty
glass, set the bottle down heavily upon the table.
"I have begged you fifty times to stop that dreadful whispering, Rike!
What is the matter now?"
A slight flush of anger rose in Aunt Rikchen's withered cheeks as the
hated name sounded in her ear; but she answered in the voice expressive
of resigned indifference, with which she was accustomed to reply to her
brother's reproofs:
"Oh, nothing! I only asked Ferdinanda whether Justus was not coming
this evening."
"Who is Justus?" asked Reinhold, delighted that a fresh subject had
been started.
"Rike likes to call everybody by their Christian names," said Uncle
Ernst.
"And why not, when they almost belong to the family?" replied Aunt
Rikchen, who seemed determined this time not to be put down. "Justus,
or, if your uncle prefers it, Herr Anders, is a young sculptor."
"Aged one and thirty," said Uncle Ernst.
"Aged one and thirty," pursued Aunt Rikchen, "or, to be more precise,
three and thirty. He has lived here--who knows how long he has lived
here?"
"Don't you know, Ferdinanda?" asked Uncle Ernst.
"Ferdinanda is in fact his pupil," continued Aunt Rikchen.
"Oh!" said Reinhold. "I congratulate him."
"It is not worth while," said Ferdinanda.
"His favourite pupil!" exclaimed Aunt Rikchen. "He told me so only
yesterday, and that the committee are very much pleased with her
'Shepherd Boy.' I must tell you that Ferdinanda has sent to the
exhibition a shepherd boy, executed from the description in Schiller's
poem--"
"'Uhland,' aunt."
"I beg your pardon, I have not had such advantages in education as some
people--now I don't remember what I was saying."
"It won't make much odds," grumbled Uncle Ernst.
"You were speaking of Ferdinanda's 'Shepherd Boy,'" said Reinhold,
coming to her assistance.
His aunt shot a grateful look at him, but before he could answer the
bell rang, and a clear voice was heard asking whether they were still
at supper.
"It is Justus!" cried Aunt Rikchen. "I thought so. Have you had any
supper?"