A bad year came upon the country. A sudden rumor of war alarmed the
German borderers in the east, and our province among the rest. The
fearful consequences of a national panic were soon perceptible. Trade
stood still; the price of goods fell. Every one was anxious to realize
and withdraw from business, and large sums embarked in mercantile
speculations became endangered. No one had heart for new ventures.
Hundreds of ties, woven out of mutual interest, and having endured for
years, were snapped at once. Each individual existence became more
insecure, isolated, and poor. On all sides were anxious faces and
furrowed brows. The country was out of health; money, the vital blood of
business, circulated slowly from one part of the great body to the
other--the rich fearing to lose, the poor becoming unable to win. The
future was overcast all at once, like the summer sky by a heavy storm.
That word of terror, "Revolution in Poland!" was not without serious
effects in Germany. The people on the other side of the frontier,
excited by old memories and by their landed proprietors, rose, and, led
by fanatical preachers, marched up and down the frontier, falling upon
travelers and merchandise, plundering and burning small towns and
noblemen's seats, and aiming at a military organization under the
command of their favorite leaders. Arms were forged, old fowling-pieces
produced from many a hiding-place; and, finally, the insurgents took and
occupied a large Polish town not far from the frontier, and proclaimed
their independent national existence. Troops were then assembled in all
haste by government, and sent to invest the frontier. Trains filled with
soldiers were incessantly running up and down the newly-constructed
railway. The streets of the capital were filled with uniforms, and the
drum every where heard. The army, of course, was all at once in the
ascendant. The officers ran here and there, full of business, buying
maps, and drinking toasts in all sorts of wines. The soldiers wrote home
to get money if possible, and to send more or less loving greetings to
their sweethearts. Numberless young clerks grew pale; numberless mothers
knit strong stockings through their tears, and providently made lint for
their poor sons; numberless fathers spoke with an unsteady voice of the
duty of fighting for king and country, and braced themselves up by
remembering the damage they had in their day done to that wicked
Napoleon.
It was on a sunny autumn morning that the first positive intelligence of
the Polish insurrection reached the capital. Dark rumors had indeed
excited the inhabitants on the previous evening, and crowds of anxious
men of business and scared idlers were crowding the railway terminus. No
sooner was the office of T. O. Schröter open, than in rushed Mr. Braun,
the agent, and breathlessly related (not without a certain inward
complacency, such as the possessor of the least agreeable news
invariably betrays) that the whole of Poland and Galicia, as well as
several border provinces, were in open insurrection, numerous quiet
commercial travelers and peaceable officials surprised and murdered, and
numerous towns set fire to.
This intelligence threw Anton into the greatest consternation, and with
good cause. A short time before, an enterprising Galician merchant had
undertaken to dispatch an unusually large order to the firm; and, as is
the custom of the country, he had already received the largest part of
the sum due to him for it (nearly twenty thousand dollars) in other
goods. The wagons that were to bring the merchandise must now, Anton
reckoned, be just in the heart of the disturbed district. Moreover,
another caravan, laden with colonial produce, and on its way to Galicia,
must be on the very confines of the enemy's land. And, what was still
worse, a large portion of the business of the house, and of the credit
granted it, was carried on in, and depended upon, this very part of the
country. Much--nay, every thing, he apprehended, would be endangered by
this war. So he rushed up to his principal, met him coming down, and
hastily related the news just heard; while Mr. Braun hurried to deliver
a second edition in the office, with as many further particulars as were
compatible with his love of truth.
The principal remained for a moment silent where he stood, and Anton,
who was watching him anxiously, fancied that he looked a shade paler
than usual; but that must have been a mistake, for the next moment,
directing his attention to the porters beyond, he called out, in the
cool, business-like tone which had so often impressed Anton with
respect, "Sturm, be good enough to remove that barrel: it's in the very
middle of the way; and bestir yourselves, all of you; the carrier will
set out in an hour." To which Sturm, with a sorrowful look upon his
broad face, replied, "The drums are beating, and our men marching off.
My Karl is there as a hussar, with gay lace on his little coat. It is
unlucky, indeed. Alas for our wares, Mr. Schröter!"
"Make the more haste on that account," replied the principal, smiling.
"Our wagons are going to the frontier too, laden with sugar and rum; our
soldiers will be glad of a glass of punch in the cold weather." Then
turning to Anton, he said, "These tidings are not satisfactory, but we
must not believe all we hear." And then, going into his office, he spoke
rather more cheerfully than usual to Mr. Braun; and, having quietly
heard his whole story, made a few comforting observations as to the
probability of the wagons not having yet reached the frontier.
And so the great subject of interest was laid aside for the day, and
office-work went on as usual. Mr. Liebold wrote down large sums in his
ledger; Mr. Purzel piled dollar on dollar; and Mr. Pix wielded the black
brush and governed the servants with his wonted decision. At dinner the
conversation was as calm and cheerful as ever; and after it, the
principal went out walking with his sister and a few ladies of his
acquaintance, while all business men who met him exclaimed in amazement,
"He goes out walking to-day! As usual, he has known it all before the
rest of us. He has a good head of his own. The house is a solid house.
All honor to him!"
Anton sat all day at his desk in a state of nervous excitement till then
unknown to him. He was full of anxiety and suspense, and yet there was
something of enjoyment in his feelings. He was keenly alive to the
danger in which his principal and the business were placed, but he was
no longer dejected or spiritless--nay, he felt every faculty enhanced;
never had he written so easily; never had his style been so' clear, or
his calculations so rapidly made. He remarked that Mr. Schröter moved
with a quicker step, and looked round with a brighter glance than usual.
Never had Anton so honored him before; he seemed, as it were,
transfigured in his eyes. In wild delight, our hero said to himself,
"This is poetry--the poetry of business; we can only experience this
thrilling sense of power and energy in working our way against the
stream. When people say that these times are wanting in inspiration, and
our calling wanting most of all, they talk nonsense. That man is at this
very moment staking all he has at a single cast--all that he holds
dearest, the result of a long life, his pride, his honor, his happiness;
and there he sits coolly at his desk, writes letters about logwood, and
examines samples of clover-seed--nay, I believe that he actually laughs
within himself." So mused Anton while locking up his desk and preparing
to join his colleagues. He found them discussing, over a cup of tea, the
news of the day, and its probable effect upon business, with a pleasant
sort of shudder. All agreed that the firm must indeed suffer loss, but
that they were the men to retrieve it sooner than ever was done before.
Various views were then propounded, till at length Mr. Jordan pronounced
that it was impossible to know beforehand what turn things would take,
which profound opinion was generally adopted, and the conference broke
up. Through the thin wall of his room Anton heard his neighbor Baumann
put up a fervent prayer for the principal and the business, and he
himself worked off his excitement by walking up and down till his lamp
burned low.
It was already late when a servant noiselessly entered, and announced
that Mr. Schröter wished to speak to him. Anton followed in all haste,
and found the merchant standing before a newly-packed trunk, with his
portfolio on the table, together with that unmistakable symptom of a
long journey, his great English cigar-case of buffalo hide. It contained
a hundred cigars, and had long excited the admiration of Mr. Specht.
Indeed, the whole counting-house viewed it as a sort of banner never
displayed but on remarkable occasions. Sabine stood at the open drawers
of the writing-table, busily and silently collecting whatever the
traveler might want. The merchant advanced to meet Anton, and kindly
apologized for having summoned him so late, adding that he had not
expected him to be still up.
When Anton replied that he was far too excited to sleep, such a ray of
gratitude for his sympathy shone from Sabine's eyes that our hero was
mightily moved, and did not trust himself to speak.
The principal, however, smiled. "You are still young," he said;
"composure will come by-and-by. It will be necessary that I go and look
after our merchandise to-morrow. I hear that the Poles show special
consideration to our countrymen; possibly they imagine that our
government is not disaffected toward them. This illusion can not last
long; but there will be no harm in our trying to turn it to advantage
for the safety of our goods. You have conducted the correspondence, and
know all that is to be done for me. I shall travel to the frontier, and,
when there, shall decide what steps should next be taken."
Sabine listened in the utmost excitement, and tried to read in her
brother's face whether he was keeping back any thing out of
consideration for her. Anton understood it all. The merchant was going
over the frontier into the very heart of the insurrection.
"Can I not go in your stead?" said he, imploringly. "I feel, indeed,
that I have hitherto given you no grounds for trusting me in so
important an affair, but, at least, I will exert myself to the utmost,
Mr. Schröter." Anton's face glowed as he spoke.
"That is kindly said, and I thank you," replied the principal; "but I
can not accept your offer. The expedition may have its difficulties, and
as the profits will be mine, it is but fair that the trouble should be
so too." Anton hung his head. "On the contrary, I purpose leaving
definite instructions with you, in case of my not being able to return
the day after to-morrow."
Sabine, who had been anxiously listening, now seized her brother's hand,
and whispered, "Take him with you."
This support gave Anton fresh courage. "If you do not choose to send me
alone, at least allow me to accompany you; possibly I may be of some
use; at least I would most gladly be so."
"Take him with you," again implored Sabine.
The merchant slowly looked from his sister to Anton's honest face, which
was glowing with youthful zeal, and replied, "Be it so, then. If I
receive the letters I expect, you will accompany me to-morrow to the
frontier; and now good-night."
The following morning, Anton, who had thrown himself ready dressed on
the bed, was awakened by a slight knock. "The letters are come, sir."
And, hurrying into the office, he found the principal and Mr. Jordan
already there, engaged in earnest conversation, which the former merely
interrupted for a moment by the words "We go." Never had Anton knocked
at so many doors, run so quickly up and down stairs, and so heartily
shaken the hands of his colleagues, as in the course of the next hour.
As he hurried along the dim corridor, he heard a slight rustling. Sabine
stepped toward him and seized hold of his hand. "Wohlfart, protect my
brother." Anton promised, with inexpressible readiness, to do so; felt
for his loaded pistols, a present from Mr. Fink, and jumped into the
railway carriage with the most blissful feelings a youthful hero could
possibly have. He was bent on adventure, proud of the confidence of his
principal, and exalted to the utmost by the tender relation into which
he had entered with the divinity of the firm. He was indeed happy.
The engine puffed and snorted across the wide plain like a horse from
Beelzebub's stables. There were soldiers in all the carriages--bayonets
and helmets shining every where; at all the stations, crowds of curious
inquirers, hasty questions and answers, fearful rumors, and marvelous
facts. Anton was glad when they left the railroad and the soldiers, and
posted on to the frontier in a light carriage: The high road was quiet,
less frequented indeed than usual, but when they drew near the border
they repeatedly met small detachments of military. The merchant did not
say any thing to Anton about the business in hand, but spoke with much
animation on every other subject, and treated his traveling companion
with confidential cordiality. Only he showed an aversion to Anton's
pistols, which a little damped the latter's martial ardor; for when, at
the second station, he carefully drew them out of his pocket to examine
their condition, Mr. Schröter pointed toward their brown muzzles,
saying, "I do not think we shall succeed in getting back our goods by
dint of pocket pistols. Are they loaded?"
Anton bowed assent, adding, with a last remnant of martial vanity, "They
are at full cock."
"Really!" said the principal, seriously, taking them out of Anton's
pocket, and then calling to the postillion to hold his horses, he coolly
shot off both barrels, remarking good-naturedly as he returned the
pistols to their owner, "It is better to confine ourselves to our
accustomed weapons: we are men of peace, and only want our own property
restored to us. If we can not succeed in convincing others of our
rights, there is no help for it. Plenty of powder will be shot away to
no purpose--plenty of efforts without result, and expenditure which only
tends to impoverish. There is no race so little qualified to make
progress, and to gain civilization and culture in exchange for capital,
as the Slavonic. All that those people yonder have in their idleness
acquired by the oppression of the ignorant masses they waste in foolish
diversions. With us, only a few of the specially privileged classes act
thus, and the nation can bear with it if necessary; but there, the
privileged classes claim to represent the people. As if nobles and mere
bondsmen could ever form a state! They have no more capacity for it than
that flight of sparrows on the hedge. The worst of it is that we must
pay for their luckless attempt."
"They have no middle class," rejoined Anton, proudly.
"In other words, they have no culture," continued the merchant; "and it
is remarkable how powerless they are to generate the class which
represents civilization and progress, and exalts an aggregate of
individual laborers into a state."
"In the town before us, however," suggested Anton, "there is Conrad
Gaultier, and the house of the three Hildebrands in Galicia as well."
"Worthy people," agreed the merchant, "but they are all merely settlers,
and the honorable burgher-class feeling has no root here, and seldom
goes down to a second generation. What is here called a city is a mere
shadow of ours, and its citizens have hardly any of those qualities
which with us characterize commercial men--the first class in the
state."
"The first?" said Anton, doubtingly.
"Yes, dear Wohlfart, the first. Originally individuals were free, and,
in the main, equal; then came the semi-barbarism of the privileged idler
and the laboring bondsman. It is only since the growth of our large
towns that the world boasts civilized states--only since then is the
problem solved which proves that free labor alone makes national life
noble, secure, and permanent."
Toward evening our travelers reached the frontier station. It was a
small village, consisting, in addition to the custom-house and the
dwellings of the officials, of only a few poor cottages and a public
house. On the open space between the houses, and round about the
village, bivouacked two squadrons of cavalry, who had posted themselves
along the narrow river that defined the border, and who were appointed
to guard it in company with a detachment of riflemen. The public house
presented a scene of wild confusion: soldiers moving to and fro, and
sitting cheek by jowl in the little parlor; gay hussars and green coats
camped round the house on chairs, tables, barrels, and every thing that
could by any contrivance be converted into a seat. They appeared to
Anton so many Messrs. Pix, such was the peremptoriness with which they
disposed of the little inn and its contents. The Jew landlord received
the well-known merchant with a loud welcome, and his zeal was such that
he actually cleared out a small room for the travelers, where they could
at least spend the night alone.
The merchant had scarcely dismounted when half a dozen men surrounded
him with shouts of joy. They were the drivers of the wagons that had
been recently expedited. The oldest of their party related that, when
just beyond the frontier, they had been induced to make a hasty retreat
by the alarming spectacle of a body of armed peasants. In turning round,
the wheel of the last wagon had come off; the driver, in his fright, had
unharnessed the horses and left the wagon. While the delinquent stood
there, flourishing his hat in the air, and excusing himself as well as
he could, the officer in command came up and confirmed the story.
"You may see the wagon on the road, about a hundred yards beyond the
bridge," he went on to say; and when the merchant begged leave to cross
the bridge, he offered to send one of his officers with him.
A young officer belonging to a squadron just returned from a patrol was
curbing his fiery steed at the door of the tavern.
"Lieutenant von Rothsattel," called the captain, "accompany the
gentlemen beyond the bridge."
It was with rapture that Anton heard a name linked with so many sweet
recollections. He knew at once that the rider of the fiery charger could
be no other than the brother of his lady of the lake.
The lieutenant, tall and slender, with a delicate mustache, was as like
his sister as a young cavalry officer could be to the fairest of all
mortal maidens. Anton felt at once a warm and respectful regard for him,
which was perhaps discernible in his bow, for the young gentleman
acknowledged it by a careless inclination of his small head. His horse
went prancing on by the side of the merchant and his clerk. They hurried
to the middle of the bridge, and looked eagerly along the road. There
lay the colossal wagon, like a wounded white elephant resting on one
knee.
"A short time ago it had not been plundered," said the lieutenant; "the
canvas was stretched quite tightly over it; but they have been at it
now, for I see a corner fluttering."
"There does not appear to have been much mischief done," replied the
principal.
"If you could get over a wheel and a pair of horses, you might carry off
the whole affair," replied the lieutenant, carelessly. "Our men have had
a great hankering after it all day. They were very anxious to ascertain
whether there was any thing drinkable in it or not. Were it not that we
are commanded not to cross the borders, it would be a mere trifle to
bring the wagon here, if the commanding officer allowed you to pass the
sentinels, and if you could manage those fellows yonder." So saying, he
pointed to a crowd of peasants, who were camping behind some stunted
willows just out of reach of shot, and who had stationed an armed man on
the high road as sentinel.
"We will fetch the wagon if the officer in command permit us to do so,"
said the principal. "I hope we may find a way of dealing with those
people yonder."
Meanwhile Anton could not refrain from murmuring, "The whole day long
these gentlemen have allowed two thousand dollars' worth to lie there on
the highway; they have had plenty of time to get back the wagon for us."
"We must not be unreasonable in our demands upon the army," replied the
merchant, with a smile. "We shall be satisfied if they only allow us to
rescue our property from those boors;" and, accordingly, they turned
back to make their wishes known to the captain.
"If you can find men and horses, I have nothing to object," replied he.
As soon as the wagoners were reassembled, the principal inquired which
of them would accompany him, engaging to make good any harm that might
happen to the horses.
After some scratching and shaking of their heads, most of them declared
their willingness to go. Four horses were speedily harnessed, a child's
sledge belonging to the landlord produced, a wheel and some levers
placed thereon, and then the little caravan set off in the direction of
the bridge, pursued by the jocular approbation of the soldiers, and
accompanied by some of the officers, who showed as much interest in the
expedition as comported with their martial dignity.
On the bridge the captain said, "I wish you success, but unfortunately I
am unable to send any of my men to assist you."
"It is better as it is," answered the principal, bowing; "we will
proceed to recover our goods like peaceable people, and while we do not
fear those gentry yonder, we do not wish to provoke them. Be so good,
Mr. Wohlfart, as to leave your pistols behind you; we must show these
armed men that we have nothing to do with war and its apparatus."
Anton had replaced his pistols in his pocket, whence they peeped out
with an air of defiance, but now he gave them to a soldier called by
Lieutenant von Rothsattel. And so they crossed the bridge, at the end of
which the lieutenant reluctantly reined up his charger, muttering,
"These grocers march into the enemy's country before us;" while the
captain called out, "Should your persons be in danger, I shall not
consider it any departure from duty to send Lieutenant Rothsattel and a
few soldiers to your aid." The lieutenant rushed back and gave the word
of command to his troop, which was not far off, to sit still, and then
he dashed again to the end of the bridge, and watched with great
interest and warlike impatience the progress of the grocers, as he
called them. To his and his country's honor, be it here said, that they
all alike wished the poor civilians a warm reception, and some serious
inconvenience, that they might have a right to interfere, and cut and
hack a little on their behalf.
Meanwhile, the march of the merchants into the enemy's country had
nothing very imposing about it; lighting his cigar, and walking with a
brisk step, the principal went on, Anton close by his side, and behind
them three stout wagoners with the horses. When they had got within
about thirty yards of certain peasants in white smock frocks, these
brandished their weapons, and cried out to them in Polish to halt.
The principal, raising his voice, addressed them in their own tongue,
desiring that they would call their leader.
Accordingly, some of the savages began by wild gesticulations to
communicate with their companions at a distance, while others held
their weapons in readiness, and aimed, as Anton remarked without any
particular satisfaction, pretty exactly at him. Meanwhile the leader of
the band advanced with long strides. He wore a blue coat with colored
lace, a square red cap trimmed with gray fur, and he carried a wild-duck
gun in his hand. He seemed a dark-hued fellow, of a formidable aspect,
enhanced by a long black mustache falling down on each side of his
mouth. As soon as he came near, the merchant addressed him in a loud
voice, and rather imperfect Polish. "We are strangers. I am the owner of
that wagon yonder, and am come to fetch it; tell your people to help me,
and I will give them a good gratuity." At which word all the weapons
were reverentially lowered. The chief of the krakuse, or irregulars, now
placed himself pathetically in the middle of the highway, and began a
long oration, accompanied by much action, of which Anton understood very
little, and his principal not all, but which, being interpreted by one
of the wagoners, was found to signify that the leader much regretted his
inability to serve the gentlemen, as he had received orders from the
corps stationed behind him to keep watch over the wagon till the horses
should arrive which were to take it to the nearest town.
The merchant merely shook his head, and replied, in a tone of quiet
command, "That won't do. The wagon is mine, and I must carry it off. I
can not wait the permission of your expected wagoners;" and, putting his
hand into his pocket, he displayed to the owner of the blue coat half a
dozen shining dollars, unseen by the rest. "So much for you, and as much
for your people." The leader looked at the dollars, scratched his head
vehemently, and turned his cap round and round; the result of which was,
that he at last arrived at the conclusion that, since things stood thus,
the worthy gentleman might drive off his wagon.
The procession now triumphantly proceeded; the drivers seized the
levers, and, by their united efforts, raised the fallen side, detached
the fragments of the broken wheel, put on the new one, and harnessed the
horses; and all this with the active assistance of some of the peasants,
and the brotherly support of their commandant, who himself wielded a
lever. Then the horses were set off with a good will, and the wagon
rolled on toward the bridge amid the loud acclamations of the krakuse,
which were perhaps intended to drown a dissentient voice in his
innermost breast.
"Go on with the wagon," said the merchant to Anton; and when the latter
hesitated to leave his principal alone with the boors, the command was
still more peremptorily repeated. And so the wagon slowly progressed
toward the frontier; and Anton already heard from a distance the
laughing greetings of the soldiers.
Meanwhile the merchant remained in animated conversation with the
peasant band, and at length parted on the best possible terms with the
insurgents' leader, who, with true Slavonic politeness, acted the part
of landlord on the public road, and, cap in hand, accompanied the
travelers till within gunshot of the military on the bridge. The
principal got into the wagon, underwent the warlike ceremonial of
"Halt!" &c., on the part of the sentinels, and received the smiling
congratulations of the captain, while the lieutenant said satirically to
Anton, "You have had no cause to lament the want of your pocket
pistols."
"All the better," answered Anton; "it was a tame affair indeed. The poor
devils had stolen nothing but a small cask of rum."
An hour later, the travelers were sitting with the officers of both
regiments, in the little tavern parlor, over a bottle of old Tokay,
which the host had disinterred from the lowest depths of his cellar. Not
the least happy of the party was Anton. For the first time in his life
he had experienced one of the small perils of war, and was, on the
whole, pleased with the part he had played; and now he was sitting by a
young soldier, whom he was prepared to admire to the utmost, and had the
privilege of offering him his cigars, and discussing with him the day's
adventures.
"The boors pointed their guns at you at first," said the young nobleman,
carelessly curling his mustache; "you must have found that a bore."
"Not much of one," replied Anton, as coolly as he could. "For a moment I
felt startled as I saw the guns aimed at me, and behind them men with
scythes, pantomiming the cutting off of heads. It struck me
uncomfortably at first that all the muzzles should point so directly at
my face; afterward I had to work away at the wagon, and thought no more
about it; and when, on our return, each of our wagoners affirmed that
the guns had pointed at him and no one else, I came to the conclusion
that this many-sidedness must be part of the idiosyncrasy of guns--a
sort of optical unmannerliness that does not mean much."
"We should soon have cut you out if the peasants had been in earnest,"
replied the lieutenant, benevolently. "Your cigars are remarkably good."
Anton was rejoiced to hear it, and filled his neighbor's glass. And so
he entertained himself, and looked at his principal, who seemed to be
unusually inclined to converse with the gay gentlemen around him on all
subjects connected with peace and war. Anton remarked that he treated
the officers with a degree of formal politeness, which considerably
checked the free and easy tone which they had at first adopted. The
conversation soon became general, and all listened with attention to the
merchant while he spoke of the disturbed districts, with which former
journeys had made him familiar, and sketched some of the leaders of the
insurrection. Young Von Rothsattel alone, to Anton's great distress, did
not seem to like the attention lent by his comrades to the civilian, nor
the lion's share of the conversation conceded him. He threw himself
carelessly back on his chair, looked absently at the ceiling, played
with his sword-hilt, and uttered curt observations, intended to denote
that he was not a little bored. When the captain mentioned that he
expected their commander-in-chief to arrive in the morning, and the
merchant said in reply, "Your colonel will not be here till to-morrow
evening, so at least he said to me when I met him at the station," the
demon of pride in the young officer's breast became uncontrollable, and
he rudely said, "You know our colonel, then? I suppose he buys his tea
and sugar from you."
"At all events, he used to do so," politely replied the merchant;
"indeed, as a younger man, I have sometimes weighed out coffee for him
myself."
A certain degree of embarrassment now arose among the officers, and one
of the elder attempted, according to his light, to rectify the
intentional rudeness by saying something about a most highly-respectable
establishment where civilians or military alike might procure, with
perfect satisfaction, whatever they needed.
"I thank you, captain, for the confidence you repose in my house,"
replied the merchant, with a smile, "and I am indeed proud that it
should have become respectable through my own active exertions and those
of my firm."
"Lieutenant Rothsattel, you head the next patrol; it is time that you
should set out," said the captain. Accordingly, with clink and clatter,
the lieutenant rose.
"Here comes our landlord with a new bottle on which he sets great value;
it is the best wine in his cellar. May not Herr von Rothsattel take a
glass of it before he goes to watch over our night's rest?" inquired the
merchant, with calm politeness.
The young man haughtily thanked him and clattered out of the room. Anton
could have thrashed his new favorite with all his heart.
It was now late; and Anton saw, with some astonishment, that the
merchant still continued with the utmost politeness to play the host,
and to evince a pleasure in every fresh experience of the Tokay not easy
to reconcile with the purpose of his journey. At last, another bottle
having been uncorked, and the captain having taken and commenced a fresh
cigar of the merchant's, the latter casually observed, "I wish to travel
to the insurgent capital to-morrow, and request your permission, if it
be necessary."
"You do!" cried all the officers round the table.
"I must!" said the merchant, gravely, and proceeded briefly to state the
reasons for his resolve.
The captain shook his head. "It is true," said he, "that the exact terms
in which my orders are couched leave it optional whether I bar the
frontier against all alike, but yet the chief aim of our occupying this
position is the closing up of the disturbed district."
"Then I must make known my wishes to the commander-in-chief; but this
will delay me more than a day, and this delay will very probably defeat
the whole object of my journey. As you have kindly informed me, there
still exists a certain degree of order among the insurgents, but it is
impossible to say how long this may last. Now it is upon the existence
of this very order that I must depend for the recovery of my property,
for I can only get the loaded wagons out of the town with the consent of
the revolutionary party."
"And do you hope to obtain it?"
"I must endeavor to do so," was the reply; "at all events, I shall
oppose might and main the plundering and destroying of my goods."
The captain mused a while. "Your plans," said he, "place me in a strait;
if any harm should befall you, which is, I fear, only too likely, I
shall be reproached for having allowed you to cross the frontier. Can
nothing persuade you to give up this undertaking?"
"Nothing," said the merchant--"nothing but the law of the land."
"Are the wagons, then, of such consequence to you, that you are willing
to risk your life for them?" asked the captain, rather morosely.
"Yes, captain, of as much consequence as the doing your duty is to you.
To me their safety involves far more than mere mercantile profit. I must
cross the frontier unless prevented by a positive prohibition. That I
should not actually resist, but I should do all in my power to have an
exception made in my favor."
"Very good," said the captain; "I will lay no hinderance in your way;
you will give me your word of honor that you will disclose nothing
whatever as to the strength of our position, the arrangement of our
troops, or as to what you have heard of our intended movements."
"I pledge my word," said the merchant.
"Your character is sufficient guarantee that your intentions in taking
this journey are upright; but officially I could wish to see the papers
connected with it, if you have them by you."
"Here they are," said the merchant, in the same business-like tone.
"There is my passport for a year, here the bill of goods of the Polish
seller, the copies of my letters to the custom-house officer, and the
replies to them."
The captain glanced over the papers, and gave them back. "You are a
brave man, and I heartily wish you success," said he, in a dignified
tone. "How do you mean to travel?"
"With post-horses. If I can not hire, I shall buy, and drive them
myself. Our host will let me have a carriage, and I shall set out
to-morrow morning, as I might cause more suspicion traveling by night."
"Very well, then, I shall see you again at break of day. I believe that
we ourselves are to move over into the enemy's country in three days'
time; and if I hear no tidings from you in the mean time, I shall look
you out in the conquered city. We must disperse, gentlemen; we have
already sat here too long."
The officers then retired with clank of arms, and Anton and his
principal remained alone with the empty bottles. The merchant opened the
window, and then turning to Anton, who had listened to the foregoing
conversation in the greatest excitement, began, "We must part here, dear
Wohlfart--"
Before he could finish his sentence Anton caught hold of his hand, and
said, with tears in his eyes, "Let me go with you; do not send me back
to the firm. I should reproach myself intolerably my whole life through
if I had left you on this journey."
"It would be useless, perhaps unwise, that you should accompany me. I
can perfectly well do alone all that has to be done; and if there be any
risk to run, which, however, I do not believe, your presence could not
protect me, and I should only have the painful feeling of having
endangered another for my sake."
"Still, I should be very grateful to you if you would take me with you,"
urged Anton; "and Miss Sabine wished it too," added he, wisely keeping
his strongest argument for the last.
"She is a terrible girl," said the merchant, with a smile. "Well, then,
so let it be. We will go together; call the landlord, and let us make
all our traveling arrangements."