him smilingly and with a face that shone with joy. They were leaning
against the chimney corner, and silently they felt to the full the
intense ecstasy of communion of spirits. Over and above all their
troubles, high above them all, there was hovering the genius of their
love, that each felt loving and beloved. And in this beatitude they
both fell asleep on this cold hearth with its feathery ashes, without
cover or pillow, and slept just as peacefully and softly as two little
children in their cradle.
Dawn was breaking in the eastern sky when Sali awoke the first. Gently
he woke Vreni, but she again and again snuggled near to him and would
not rouse herself. At last he kissed her with vehemence on her mouth,
and then Vreni did awaken, opened her eyes wide, and when she saw Sali
she exclaimed: "Zounds, I've just been dreaming of you. I was dreaming
I danced on our wedding-day, many, many hours, and we were both so
happy, both so finely dressed, and nothing was lacking to our joy. And
then we wanted to kiss each other, and we both longed for it, oh, so
much, but always something was dragging us apart, and now it appears
that it was you yourself that was interfering, that it was you who
disturbed and hindered us. But how nice, how nice, that you are at
least close by now."
And she fell around his neck and kissed him wildly, kissed him as if
there were to be no end to it.
"And now confess, my dear, what have you been dreaming?" and she
tenderly caressed his cheeks and chin.
"I was dreaming," he said, "that I was walking endlessly along a
lengthy street, and through a forest, and you in the distance always
ahead of me. Off and on you turned around for me, and were beckoning
and smiling at me, and then it seemed to me I were in heaven. And that
is all."
They stepped on the threshold of the kitchen door left open the whole
night and which led direct into the open, and they had to laugh as they
now saw each other plainly. For the right cheek of Vreni and the left
one of Sali, which in their sleep had been resting against each other,
were both quite red from the pressure, while the pallor of the opposite
cheeks was engrossed by the coolth of early morning. So then they
rubbed vigorously the pale cheeks to bring them into consonance with
the others, each performing that service for the other. The fresh
morning air, the dewy peace lying over the whole landscape, and the
ruddy tints of coming sunrise, all this together made them forget their
griefs and made them merry and playful, and into Vreni especially a gay
spirit of carelessness seemed to have passed.
"To-morrow night then, I must leave this house," she said, "and find
some other shelter. But before that happens I should love to be merry,
real merry, just once, only once. And it is with thee, dear, that I
want to enjoy myself. I should like to dance with you, really and
truly, for a long, long time, till I could no longer move a foot. For
it is that dance in my dream that I have to think of steadily. That
dream was too fine, let us realize it."
"At all events I must be present when you dance," said Sali, "and see
what becomes of you, and to dance with you as long as you like is just
what I myself would love to do, you charming wild thing. But where?"
"Ah, Sali, to-morrow there will be kermess in a number of places near
by. Of two of these I know. On such occasions we should not be spied
upon and could enjoy ourselves to our heart's content. Below at the
river front I could await you, and then we can go wherever we like, to
laugh and be merry--just once, only once. But stop--we have no money."
And Vreni's face clouded with the sad thought, and she added blankly:
"What a pity! Nothing can come of it."
"Let be," smilingly said Sali, "I shall have money enough when I meet
you."
But Vreni flushed and said haltingly: "But how--not from your father,
not stolen money?"
"No, Vreni. I still have my silver watch, and I will sell that."
"Then that is arranged," said Vreni, and she flushed once more. "In
fact, I think I should die if I could not dance with you to-morrow."
"Probably the best for us," said Sali, "if we both could die."
They embraced with tearful smiles, and bade each other good-by, but at
the moment of parting they again laughed at each other, in the sure
hope of meeting again next day.
"But when shall we meet?" asked Vreni.
"At eleven at latest," answered Sali. "Then we can eat a good noon meal
together somewhere."
"Fine, fine," Vreni cried after him, "come half an hour earlier then."
But the very moment of their parting Vreni summoned him back once more,
and she showed suddenly a wholly changed and despairing face: "Nothing,
after all, can come of our plans," she then said, weeping hard,
"because I had forgotten I had no Sunday shoes any more. Even yesterday
I had to put on these clumsy ones going to town, and I don't know where
to find a pair I could wear."
Sali stood undecided and amazed.
"No shoes?" he repeated after her. "In that case you'll have to go in
these."
"But no, no," she remonstrated. "In these I should never be able to
dance."
"Well, all we can do then is to buy new ones," said Sali in a
matter-of-fact tone.
"Where and what with?" asked Vreni.
"Why, in Seldwyla, where they have shoe stores enough. And money I
shall have in less than two hours."
"But, Sali, I cannot accompany you to all these shoe stores, and then
there will not be money enough for all the other things as well."
"It must. And I will buy the shoes for you and bring them along
to-morrow."
"Oh, but, you silly, they would not fit me."
"Then give me an old shoe of yours to take along, or, stop, better
still, I will take your measure. Surely that will not be very
difficult."
"Take my measure, of course. I never thought of that. Come, come, I
will find you a bit of tape."
Then she sat down once more on the hearth, turned her skirt somewhat up
and slipped her shoe off, and the little foot showed, from yesterday's
excursion to town, yet covered with a white stocking. Sali knelt down,
and then took, as well as he was able, the measure, using the tape
daintily in encompassing the length and width with great care, and
tying knots where wanted.
"You shoemaker," said Vreni, bending down to him and laughingly
flushing in embarrassment. But Sali also reddened, and he held the
little foot firmly in the palm of his hand, really longer than was
necessary, so that Vreni at last, blushing still a deeper red, withdrew
it, embracing, however, Sali once more stormily and kissing him with
ardor, but then telling him hastily to go.
As soon as Sali arrived in town he took his watch to a jeweler and
received six or seven florins for it. For his silver watch chain he
also got some money, and now he thought himself rich as Croesus, for
since he had grown up he had never had as large a sum at once. If only
the day were over, he was saying to himself, and Sunday come, so that
he could purchase with his riches all the happiness which Vreni and
himself were dreaming of. For though the awful day after seemed to loom
darker and darker in comparison, the heavenly pleasures anticipated for
Sunday shone with all the greater lustre. However, some of his
remaining leisure time was spent agreeably by him in choosing the
desired pair of shoes for Vreni. In fact this job to him was a most
joyous diversion. He went from one shoestore to another, had them show
him all the women's footwear they had in stock, and finally bought the
prettiest pair he could find. They were of a finer quality and more
ornate than any Vreni had ever owned. He hid them under his vest, and
throughout the rest of the day did not leave them out of his sight; he
even put them under his pillow at night when he went to bed. Since he
had seen the girl that day and was to meet her again next day, he slept
soundly and well, but was up early, and then began to pick out his
Sunday finery, dressing with greater care than ever before in his life.
When he was done he looked with satisfaction at his own image in his
little broken mirror. And indeed it presented an enticing picture of
youth and good looks. His mother was astonished when she saw him thus
attired as though for his wedding, and she asked him the meaning of it.
The son replied, with a mien of indifference, that he wanted to take a
long stroll into the country, adding that he felt the effects of his
constant confinement in the close house.
"Queer doings, all the time," grumbled his father with ill-humor, "and
forever skirmishing about."
"Let him have his way," said the mother. "Perhaps a change of air and
surroundings will do him good. I'm sure to look at him he needs it. He
is as pale as a ghost."
"Have you some money to spend for your outing?" now asked his father.
"Where did you get it from?"
"I don't need any," said Sali.
"There is a florin for you," replied the old man, and threw him the
coin. "You can turn in at the village and visit the tavern, so that
they don't think we're so badly off."
"I don't intend to go to the village, and I have no use for the money.
You may keep it," replied Sali, with a show of indignation.
"Well, you've had it, at any rate, and so I'll keep the money, you
ill-conditioned fellow," muttered the father, and put the coin back in
his pocket.
But his wife who for some reason unknown to herself felt that day
particularly distressed on account of her son, brought down for him a
large handkerchief of Milan silk, with scarlet edges, which she herself
had worn a few odd times before and of which she knew that he liked it.
He wound it about his neck, and left the long ends of it dangling. And
the flaps of his shirt collar, usually worn by him turned down, he this
time let stand on end, in a fit of rustic coquetry, so that he offered
altogether the appearance of a well-to-do young man. Then at last,
Vreni's little shoes hid below his vest, he left the house at near
seven in the morning. In leaving the room a singularly powerful
sentiment urged him to shake hands once more with his parents, and
having reached the street, he was impelled to turn and take a last
glance at the house.
"I almost believe," said Manz sententiously, "that the young fool is
smitten with some woman. Nothing but that would be lacking in our
present circumstances indeed."
And the mother replied: "Would to God it were so. Perhaps the poor
fellow might yet be happy in life."
"Just so," growled the father. "That's it. What a heavenly lot you are
picking for him. To fall in love and to have to take care of some
penniless woman--yes indeed, that would be a great thing for him, would
it not?"
But Mother Manz only smiled slightly, and said never another word.
Sali at first directed his steps toward the shore of the river, to that
trysting-place where he was to meet Vreni. But on the way he changed
his mind and steered straight for the village itself, hoping to meet
her there awaiting him, since the time till noon otherwise seemed lost
to him.
"What do we have to care about gossips now?" he said to himself. "And
they dare not say anything against her anyway, nor am I afraid of
anyone."
So he stepped into Vreni's room without any ceremony, and to his
delight found her already completely dressed and bedecked, seated
patiently on a stool, and awaiting her lover's coming. Nothing but the
shoes was lacking.
But Sali stopped right in the centre of the room and stood like one
nailed to the spot, so beautiful and alluring Vreni looked in her
holiday attire. Yet it was simple enough. She wore a plain skirt of
blue linen, and above that a snow-white muslin kerchief. The dress
fitted her slender body wonderfully, and the brown hair with its pretty
curls had been well arranged, and the usually obstinate curls lay fine
and dainty about head and neck. Since Vreni had scarcely left the house
for so many weeks, her complexion had grown more delicate and almost
transparent; her griefs also had contributed toward that result. But at
that instant a rush of sudden joy and love poured over that pallor one
scarlet layer after another, and on her bosom she wore a fine nosegay
of roses, asters and rosemary. She was seated at the window, and was
breathing still and quiet the fresh morning air perfumed by the sun.
But when she saw Sali she at once stretched out her pretty arms, bare
from the elbow. And with a voice melodious and tender she exclaimed:
"How nice of you and how right to come already. But have you really
brought me the shoes? Surely? Well, then I won't get up until I have
them on."
Sali without further ado produced the shoes and handed them to the
eager maiden. Vreni instantly cast her old ones aside, slipped the new
ones on, and indeed, they fitted excellently. Only now she rose quickly
from her seat, dandled herself in the shoes, and walked up and down the
room a few times, to be sure of their fit. She pulled up a bit her blue
dress in order to admire them the better, and with extreme pleasure she
examined the red loops in front, while Sali could not get his fill of
the charming picture the girl presented--the lovely excitement that
beautified her the more, the willowy shape, the gently heaving bosom,
the delicate oval of the face with its pretty features, animated with
feminine enjoyment of the moment, eager with the mere joy of living,
grateful to the giver of this last bit of finery that her childish soul
had longed for.
"You are looking at my posy," she said. "Have I not managed to pick a
nice one? You must know these are the last ones I have managed to find
in this wasted place. But there was, after all, still left a rosebud,
over at the hedge in a sheltered spot a few of them and some other
flowers, and the way they are now gathered up and arranged one would
never think they came from a house decayed and fallen. But now it is
high time for me to leave here, for not a single flower is there, and
the whole house is bare."
Then only Sali noticed that all the few movables still left were gone.
"You poor little Vreni," he deplored, "have they already taken
everything from you?"
"Yes," she said with a ludicrous attempt to be tragic, "yesterday,
after you had left, they came and took everything of mine away that
could be moved at all, and left me nothing but my bed. But that I have
also sold at once, and here is the money for it--see!" And she hauled
forth from the depths of an inside pocket a handful of bright new
silver coins.
"With this," she continued, "the orphan patron said to me, I was to
find another service in town somewhere, and that I was to start out
to-day."
"Really," said Sali, after glancing about in the kitchen and the other
rooms, "there is nothing at all left, no furniture, no sliver of fuel,
no pot or kettle, no knife or fork. And have you had nothing to eat
this morning?"
"Nothing at all," answered Vreni, with a happy laugh. "I might have
gone out and got myself something for breakfast, but I preferred to
remain hungry, so I could eat a lot with you, for you cannot think how
much I am going to enjoy my first meal with you--how awfully much I am
going to eat with you present. I am almost dying with impatience for
it." And she showed him a row of pearly teeth and a little red tongue
to emphasize what she said.
Sali stood like one enchanted.
"If I only might touch you," murmured Sali, "I should soon show you how
much I love you, you pretty, pretty thing."
"No, no, you are right," quickly rejoined Vreni, "you would ruin all my
finery, and if we also handle my flowers with some care my head and
hair will profit from it, because ordinarily you disarrange all my
curls."
"Well, then," grumbled Sali, "let us go."
"Not quite yet; we must wait till my bed has been fetched away. For as
soon as that is gone I am going to lock up the house, and I am never to
return to it. My little bundle I am going to give to the woman to keep,
to the one who has bought my bed."
So they sat down together and waited until the woman showed up, a
peasant woman of squat shape and robust habit, one who loved to talk,
who had a stout boy with her that was to carry the bedstead. When this
woman got sight of Vreni's lover and of the girl herself in all her
finery, she opened mouth and eyes to their fullest, squared herself and
put her arms akimbo, shouting: "Why, look only, you're starting well,
Vreni. With a lover and yourself dressed up like a princess."
"Don't I?" laughed Vreni, in a friendly way. "And do you know who that
is?"
"I should think so," said the woman. "That is Sali Manz, or I am much
mistaken. Mountains and valleys, they say, do not meet, but people most
certainly do. But, child, let me warn you. Think how your parents have
fared."
"Ah, that is all changed now," smilingly replied Vreni. "Everything has
been adjusted, and now things are smoothed out. See here, Sali is my
promised husband." And the girl told this bit of news in a manner
almost condescending, and bent toward the woman one of her bewitching
glances.
"Your promised husband, is he? Well, well, who would have thought it?"
chattered the peasant woman, feeling highly honored at being the
recipient of this interesting intelligence.
"Yes, and he is now a wealthy gentleman," went on Vreni, "for he has
just won a hundred thousand dollars in the lottery. Just think!"
The woman gave a jump of surprise, threw up her hands, and shouted:
"Hund--hundred thousand--Hund--"
Vreni repeated it with a serious face.
The woman grew still more excited.
"Hundred thousand--well, well. But you are making fun of me, child.
Hund--Is it possible?"
"All right, as you choose," went on Vreni, still smiling.
"But if it is true, and he gets all that money, what are you two going
to do with it? Are you to become a stylish lady, or what?"
"Of course, within three weeks our wedding takes place--such a
wedding."
"Oh, my goodness, is it possible? But no, you are telling me stories, I
know."
"Well, he has already bought the finest house in Seldwyla, with a fine
vineyard and the biggest garden attached. And you must come and pay us
a visit, after we're there--I count on it."
"Why, what a witch you are," the woman went on between belief and
unbelief.
"You will see how nice it is there," continued Vreni unabashed. "A cup
of coffee you'll get, such as you never drank before, and plenty of
cake with it, of butter and honey."
"Oh, you lucky duck!" shrieked the woman, "depend upon my coming, of
course." And she made an eager face, as though she already saw spread
before her all these dainties.
"But if you should happen to come at noontime," went on Vreni in her
fanciful tale, "and you would be tired from marketing, you shall have a
bowl of strong broth and a bottle of our extra wine, the one with the
blue seal."
"That will certainly do me good," said the woman.
"And there shall be no lack of some candy and white wheaten rolls, for
your little ones at home."
"I think I can taste it already," answered the woman, and she turned
her eyes heavenwards.
"Perhaps a pretty kerchief, or the remnant of a bolt of extra fine
silk, or a costly ribbon or two for your skirts, or enough for an apron
I suppose will be found, if we rummage in my drawers and trunks
together sometime when we are talking things over."
The woman turned completely on her heels and shook her skirts with a
jubilant yodel.
"And in case your husband could start in the cattle dealing way, and
needed a bit of capital for it, you would know where to apply, would
you not? My dear Sali will always be glad to invest some of his
superfluous money in such a manner. And I myself might add a few
pennies from my savings to help out a good and intimate gossip, you may
be certain."
By this time the last faint doubts had vanished. The woman wrung her
uncouth hands, and said, with a great deal of sentiment: "That's what I
have always been saying, you are a square and honest and beautiful
girl! May the Lord always be good to you and reward you for what you
are going to do for me!"
"But on my part, I must insist that you, too, treat me well."
"Surely you have a right to expect that," said the woman.
"And that you at all times offer me first all your produce, be it fruit
or potatoes, or vegetables, and to do this before you take them to the
public market, so that I may always be sure of having a real peasant
woman on hand, one upon whom I may rely. Whatever anybody else is
willing to pay you for your produce, I will also be willing to give.
You know me. Why, there is nothing nicer than a wealthy city lady, one
who sits within town walls and cannot know prices and conditions there,
and yet needs so many things in her household, and an honest and
well-posted woman from the country, experienced in all that concerns
her, who are bound together by durable friendship and a community of
interests. The city lady profits from it at all sorts of occasions, as
for example at weddings and baptisms, at seasons of illness or crop
failure, at holidays and famine time, or inundations, from which the
Lord preserve us!"
"From which the Lord preserve us!" repeated the woman solemnly,
sobbing and wiping her wet face on her ample apron. "But what a
sensible and well-informed little wife you'll make, to be sure! Without
doubt you will live as happily as a mouse in the cheese, or there is no
justice in this world. Handsome, clean, smart and wise, fit for and
willing to tackle all work at any time. None is as good-looking and as
fine as thou art, no, not in the whole village, and even some distance
further away. And who has got you for wife can congratulate himself; he
is bound to be in paradise, or he is a scoundrel, and he will have me
to deal with. Listen, Sali, do not fail to be nice to Vreni, or you
will hear a word from me, you lucky devil, to break such a rose without
thorns as this one here!"
"For to-day, my dear woman," concluded Vreni, "take this bundle along,
as we agreed yesterday, and keep it till I send for it. But it may be
that I myself come for it, in my own carriage, and get it, if you have
no objection. A drink of milk you will not refuse me in that case, and
a nice cake, such as perhaps an almond tart, I shall probably bring
along myself."
"You blessed child, give it here, your bundle," the peasant woman
quavered, still completely under the influence of Vreni's eloquence.
Vreni therefore deposited on top of the bedding which the woman had
already tied up, a huge bag containing all the girl's belongings, so
that the stout-limbed woman was bearing a perfect tower of shaking and
trembling baggage on her head.
"It is almost too much for me to carry at once," she complained. "Could
I not come again and divide the load in halves?" she wanted to know.
"No, no," answered Vreni, "we must leave here at once, for we have to
visit a whole number of wealthy relatives, and some of these are far
away, the kind, you know, who have now recognized us since we have
become rich ourselves. You know how the world wags."
"Yes, indeed," said the woman, "I do know, and so God keep you, and
think of me now and then in your glorious new state."
Then the peasant woman trundled off with her monstrously high tower of
bundles, preserving its equilibrium by skillfully balancing the weight,
and behind her trudged her boy, who stood up in the center of Vreni's
gaily painted bedstead, his hard head braced against the baldaquin of
it in which the eye beheld stars and suns in a firmament of
multicolored muslin, and like another Samson, grasping with his red
fists the two prettily carved slender pillars in front which supported
the whole. As Vreni, leaning against Sali, watched the procession
meandering down between the gardens of the nearer houses, and the
aforesaid little temple forming part of her whilom bedstead, she
remarked: "That would still make a fine little arbor or garden pavilion
if placed in the midst of a sunny garden, with a small table and a
bench inside, and quickly growing vines planted around. Eh, Sali,
wouldn't you like to sit there with me in the shade?"
"Why, yes, Vreni," said he, smiling, "especially if the vines once had
grown to a size."
"But why not go now?" continued she. "Nothing more is holding us here."
"True," he assented. "Come, then, and lock up the house. But to whom
will you deliver up the key?"
Vreni looked around. "Here to this halberd let us hang it. For more
than a century it has been in our house, as I've often heard father
say. Now it stands at the door as the last sentinel."
So they hung the rusty key of the housedoor to one of the rustier
curves of the stout weapon, which was fairly overgrown with bean vines,
and sallied forth.
But after all Vreni grew faint, and Sali had to support her the first
score steps, the parting with the place where her cradle had stood
making her sad. But she did not look back.
"Where are we bound for first?" she wanted to know.