AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE
SENTENCE had been pronounced. Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew
received eighteen months' imprisonment and at the same time he was
reduced to the ranks; four other non-commissioned officers of the
company received six months'. A few days later the court-martial
sentenced Captain von Warnow to four weeks' imprisonment in a
fortress, because, by not properly supervising his non-commissioned
officers he had contributed to the ill-treatment.
The "Golden Butterflies" crept about quite broken-hearted. There was
no laughter or merriment in the Casino now; they scarcely ventured,
indeed, to give orders to the orderlies, for what must they think of
their superiors? If only the proceedings could have been carried on
without publicity! but a charge brought into a law court could not be
disposed of in this manner, and so the whole ugly story was once more
in the newspapers. The Press of all shades of opinion expressed the
severest judgment on the events; they threatened, indeed, to ask a
question in the _Reichstag_ as to how such occurrences were possible,
and the case aroused long discussions concerning the value of
regulations against the ill-treatment of soldiers, when the superior
officers did not insist upon them being carried out. The newspapers
were daily filled with long reports.
But even that was not the worst. His Majesty had had a long
detailed report of the affair, and had demanded the documents,
and in unmistakable language he had informed the officers and
non-commissioned officers that they had forfeited his favour and
patronage, and that it would be a very long time before they would
regain his confidence.
"We've had a knock-down blow;" somebody at dinner used the
expression, and struck the nail on the head: "The Golden Butterflies"
had had a severe blow. They were conscious of this in the way they
were regarded in Society; their comrades in the other distinguished
regiments quietly but unmistakably withdrew from any intercourse with
them. Not precisely from any profound conviction, not indeed because
the others were enraged that such things should happen in the "Golden
Butterflies"; it was indeed no concern of theirs if someone in the
regiment was chased about with blows. Similar things happened every
day in their own regiment; in the Cavalry there was scarcely a riding
lesson when someone or other did not feel the whip. Blows were
given everywhere, in some regiments more, in some less, and when,
therefore, the other regiments officially declined intercourse with
the "Golden Butterflies" it was simply and solely on the score of the
publicity. It would make a good impression on the public if they were
somewhat reserved in their behaviour to the "Golden Butterflies";
it would appear as if they were better men. And added to this, His
Majesty's words soon became known, and, therefore, it was only
prudent to be a little cold towards the "Golden Butterflies," for if
His Majesty ceased to bestow his favours upon the regiment, it was
certainly quite impossible for other people to protect it.
Yes the "Golden Butterflies" had fallen from their high estate. They
saw it most distinctly when they gave their first banquet after the
unhappy event. As usual, they had sent invitations to the other
regiments, but almost all had declined, only a few young fellows,
whose coming was of no importance, had accepted.
Baron Gersbach, the Uhlan, did not come, though Count Wettborn
personally invited him, and promised him a long night of gambling.
But Baron Gersbach still declined. "Do not take it as an offence, my
dear count, but affairs are not quite as they ought to be in your
regiment; too much about them has got into the newspapers, and who
can guarantee that one of your men or one of your non-commissioned
officers who is occupied in attending on us will not run round to a
newspaper and relate piping hot all that we have been doing. When one
of your lieutenants, through a perfectly inexcusable indiscretion,
draws down upon you such a scandal, one cannot any longer wonder if
your men do the same thing. Well, I don't want any of that, thank
you. I have no desire to get into the newspapers; I can assure you
I was delighted to get off so easily when Willberg disappeared from
this earthly scene. Do not be vexed with me for speaking so frankly,
but as long as you have such people among you as Winkler, we cannot
keep up friendly relations with you."
In vain Count Wettborn sought to say a good word on behalf of George,
but it was of no avail.
"Certainly, he has the best intentions," agreed the Uhlan; "but good
intentions alone are not sufficient; as sensible and experienced
men, one must consider consequences. Now the consequences of his
actions you know better than I do, and the whole affair is by no
means pleasant for us. As Guard regiments we form one whole, and,
therefore, what affects one casts its shadow on the others likewise,
for people do not say such and such a thing happened in the 'Golden
Butterflies,' but simply 'in the Guards.' Such a thing is frightful,
for more than all the other regiments we must maintain outwardly,
at any rate, a good reputation. Something more than the ordinary
performance of our military duties is demanded from us, and,
therefore, we are sometimes obliged to act with exceptional severity
against our men. And then suddenly an idealistic reformer comes
along, who wants to do away with all cuffs and blows; that is all
very well in theory, but when it provokes open scandal, one simply
can't have anything more to do with him."
So the count was obliged to depart without having obtained his
object, and though until then, from a feeling of justice, he had been
the only one who took George's part, he now came to the conclusion
that it was impossible for Winkler to remain any longer in the
regiment.
With this idea in his mind the count spoke one day to the colonel.
"We can't go on much longer like this, sir, we are almost boycotted,
we shall never get another guest as long as Winkler is here. He has
brought us and himself, let alone everyone else, into discredit.
Formerly one could not allege anything against him except his
plebeian descent, but now there is a very strong feeling among the
officers that he only lodged the complaint because he is plebeian."
The colonel looked up with astonishment. "I do not understand what
you mean."
"Pardon me, sir, the thing is very simple. The officers believe that
in giving this official information, Winkler, to a certain extent,
wanted to have his revenge, because we had not extended to him the
hand of fellowship as he had expected. He has, therefore, served us
this trick and meant to signify: 'I am the only plebeian among you,
but my ways are far more seemly than yours; simply to avoid discredit
falling upon your regiment and your proud aristocratic names, you
shut your eyes and ears, and permit your men to be ill-treated. But
I can act and think with less prejudice, I am less hide-bound by the
"caste" feeling which bids you preserve appearances, and so I can act
as my conscience dictates. I am guided by my feeling of what is right
alone and not by false prejudices.'"
"But that's simply nonsense," exclaimed the colonel.
"It may be, and I daresay such considerations are far removed from
Winkler, but the officers credit him with these, and so what can one
do? Nothing is more difficult than to talk the officers out of an
idea which they have firmly seized upon--you know that, sir, do you
not?"
The colonel groaned. "God knows it cost me trouble enough before to
try and get the lieutenants to try and listen a little to reason."
He lit his cigar again which had gone out, and blew out great clouds
of smoke.
"Dear count, let me give you some good advice. If you are not given
a pension soon then leave the army before you become the colonel and
commander of a regiment. I can assure you our path is not strewn with
roses; we are answerable for everything; for the training of the
troops, the tone in the regiment, for the non-commissioned officers,
and last, but not least, for the officers. It is a vale of tears. No,
I do not want to commit a sin," he continued reflectively, "I have
every reason, therefore, to be grateful to Heaven, for had I known
that I should live to see this day, I should have taken poison."
He pulled at his collar with his right hand to make it easier, for he
suddenly felt as if he were being throttled.
Then suddenly he struck the table with a tremendous blow, so that
the count, who meanwhile had been occupied in admiring his most
up-to-date patent shoes, started with fright. The colonel noticed it,
but paid no attention to it. "It is a scandalous thing," he burst
forth in a rage; "we have weathered two storms successfully and now
a third threatens, called Winkler. May God pardon me the sin, but I
wish he had never been born, or at least had never come among us.
He has certainly got no pleasure out of it, and neither have we."
The colonel nervously patted his somewhat thin hair with his right
hand. "You are quite right, my dear count, when you say quite simply
we shall never regain our credit until we have got rid of Winkler.
You call my attention to the impossible state of affairs among the
officers and declare we cannot alter that until we get rid of
Winkler. It is all very well to say that, but how will you get rid
of him? I cannot indeed suggest any reasons for his exchange; when
His Majesty learns the real reason, when he hears that even a single
officer in the regiment does not hold Winkler in high esteem, and
that it was he who gave information of the ill-treatment, then----"
and the colonel shook his head. "It's not to be thought about; there
will be such a crash as makes me shudder to think of. I told you how
extremely highly and appreciatively His Majesty spoke of Winkler.
Well, when I inform His Majesty that the man does not suit us, we
shall get something compared with which all former ungracious remarks
of His Majesty were but child's play. With all respect to my most
gracious Sovereign, I cannot help saying, 'Do not go to your prince
unless you are summoned.' I cannot, you see, suggest any reason
to Winkler for his exchange, for if we are to be just, it must be
confessed there is absolutely nothing against him."
The count went on polishing up his eyeglass, then he said: "What you
say, sir, is very just. I was thinking over the matter last night,
and I came to the conclusion that it would be ever so much better if
Winkler's exchange did not emanate from us; he must himself apply for
it, and if he will not do that, we must persuade him to get a year's
furlough. Probably he would consider the matter in the interval,
and would not care to put on a uniform again. But still, even if
he does, after the disagreeable experience he has had with us, he
will certainly not desire to rejoin us, but will get into another
regiment."
The colonel had been listening attentively, now he nodded
approvingly. "That would do, dear count, that's not a bad way out
of the difficulty. Of course, I would recommend him most warmly
for leave of absence, and as His Majesty regards him with great
favour, there is not the slightest doubt that his request would be
granted--if we can only once get him to make the request."
"We shall soon be able to do that, sir, I will speak to him at the
very earliest opportunity."
In the evening of the same day on which the count and the colonel had
been talking over George's future, George also conversed with Olga on
the same subject.
"I am tired of the whole thing, Olga, I shall not stay here any
longer; I am sick of knocking my head against a stone wall that
divides me from my fellow-officers. I have made up my mind to-day, I
shall give in my resignation."
Olga, who lately had been almost daily with George, and to whom he
frankly expressed all his thoughts, had clearly foreseen that sooner
or later it would come to this, nevertheless she was startled by his
words, and sought to dissuade him but in vain.
"At least exchange into another regiment," she begged.
But George shook his head. "There's no object in that, dear. I know,
of course, I should not be transferred to a miserable frontier
garrison where one is nearly driven crazy; on the contrary, I should
be sent to some fine town, but what should I do there? I know that
I should take a certain position there, for one thing because I
have been in the Guards, if only for a very short time, and that is
thought much of in the provinces, and for another, because I am a
rich man. For the latter reason alone I shall be heartily welcomed,
for everybody will be delighted to be able to borrow from me. I know
that from my former experience in the garrison, in all these little
towns a newcomer who can be regarded as a new source for loans, is
fêted and welcomed like a god: and everybody borrows money from him,
from the captain down to the youngest lieutenant--even the ensign
plucks up his courage by aid of a drink, and requests the lieutenant
most respectfully for a loan of twenty marks. I know the whole
thing. I never asked for a promissory note when I lent the money,
but they always gave me one, for in such matters, one must preserve
formality and act correctly, but not a single man ever redeemed his I
O U. They are all lying now in my writing-desk, carefully arranged,
to some extent a contribution to the history of the manners and
morals of German lieutenants, a contribution to the study of the
characteristics of 'aristocratic persons.'"
He had risen and opened a drawer and was turning over the papers
which he had taken out of a case.
"Look at these, Olga, you need not read the names, they are of no
interest to you. Here is written: 'Herewith I pledge my word of
honour to return the loan of five hundred marks within the next three
months at latest.' 'Herewith I give my word of honour to return the
thousand marks lent me to-day within----' and on, dear. Dozens of
these documents are lying here; dozens of unredeemed pledges given on
their word of honour, and yet these very men who have broken their
pledge are going about in the world as haughty officers." He was
silent for a moment, then he said, "By Jove! these lieutenants are
quite different from other people; to a certain extent they form a
class by themselves, and their ignorance and lack of understanding
in certain matters are really more than _naïve_. I confess I don't
understand these aristocratic persons, and because I don't understand
them I can find no excuse for their doings and acts, their thoughts
and their feelings. I can forgive them for what they have done to me,
difficult though that is, but I can scarcely endure their fine airs
in Society, especially when there is scarcely any other class whose
general education is so poor and lamentable as that of the officers.
I was indeed nearly going to say they could neither read nor write
properly."
"Now, now, George," admonished Olga, "you must not exaggerate because
you are angry."
"I am not angry, I am only sad that things are so bad with our
officers. But I really believe I have under-stated the case. The
lieutenants can read, but can they also write? Look at these begging
letters and promissory notes which I just showed you; you will
find beauties of style there, compared with which those of the
everlasting fourth-form boy of the comic papers are mere nothings.
But that is not all. You will find such spelling as would bring down
public rebuke upon a third-form boy. You may laugh, Olga, but what
I tell you is the sad fact. Of course, my remarks only referred to
the lieutenants, and not to the superior officers, but how often
have I not noticed even among them how terribly embarrassed they
are if they have to make a report suddenly. Every word is such an
effort to them that one feels truly sorry for them. Yet, in spite
of all this, in spite of the lack of the simplest culture, all this
arrogance and self-complacence! Naturally, every one ought to be
proud of his calling, but this pride ought not to degenerate into a
perfectly fanatical arrogance. Formerly people spoke of the young,
well-educated, knightly lieutenants, the perfect cavaliers. Where
are they now? You must go with a lantern and search for them. I
have scarcely known one during my time of service, and the few who
enter the army straight from their home, fresh and unspoiled, are
only too quickly infected with the spirit of caste, and the demon
of haughtiness takes possession of them. Ask the parents whose sons
have become officers whether they are not often shocked at the
conceit and pretentiousness of the young fellows for whom the best
is not considered good enough; whether they have not often bitterly
repented having allowed their sons to choose a profession which
often estranges them from their own parents, who are too often only
regarded as the source of money for their frivolous or luxurious
lives."
"George, you are exaggerating absurdly," said Olga, rebukingly.
"Do you really think so? I can only say I have often known young
lieutenants who are really ashamed because their fathers are teachers
or something similar, but in spite of this they are not ashamed to
send home for more money in order to maintain a good appearance. They
wish--no, according to their view they _must_ give the idea of coming
from good families. I was once at dinner and I heard with my own ears
how a lieutenant pretended his father was a pensioned officer because
he felt embarrassed at having to say he was a doctor."
"Fi, that's a beautiful idea."
Count Wettborn had, therefore, an easy task when he came to persuade
George to go on furlough. He was much astonished when he heard that
George was quite determined to send in his resignation, and to enter
his father's factory; but, naturally, he made no attempt to dissuade
him.
"And when do you think of sending in your request?"
"In a day or two. My father writes to me that he is commanded to an
audience with His Majesty, and that he will be here at the beginning
of next week. Although I am a completely free agent in this matter,
and can go and come as I like, still I think it is my duty to inform
my father of my resolution as soon as possible."
"Certainly, certainly," agreed Count Wettborn, "a week sooner or
later makes no difference."
And that was just what the officers thought when they heard that
Winkler was going. Whether he remained a week more or less--that was
a matter of no importance--the thing was, they were going to get rid
of him.
"I say, boys, we'll be a little bit nice to him during these last few
days," suggested one of the officers. "We will behave as if we were
rather sorry that he's going, for, after all, it's not exactly his
fault that he doesn't suit us. Besides, it would be a good thing for
us if the memory of his last days among us was a pleasant one; later
on he will often tell stories of the days when he had the honour of
belonging to us, and although, of course, it doesn't really matter
what he says about us to his shopkeeper friends, still, it won't do
us any harm if he says, 'The "Golden Butterflies" are a damned fine
regiment; they're a charming set of good-hearted, dear fellows who
are second to none in their friendliness and good fellowship.'"
But the proposal evoked no response. "For his own sake he won't say
much about his dealings with us and how we drove him out."
But they all agreed, however, to drop every appearance of ill-will
and to be, at least outwardly, polite and amiable during these last
days.
George could scarcely suppress a contemptuous laugh when he noticed
the sudden change of feeling, and an ironical word was always on the
tip of his tongue when his comrades asked sympathetically after his
future plans, and feigned interest in all his concerns. Often he was
sorely tempted to cry out--"Don't trouble yourselves, you know you
can't disguise your joy in getting rid of me." But he was silent.
What was the good of saying anything, the officers would not have
admitted their true feelings.
One day at lunch a comrade went so far as to offer him a glass of
champagne. He had just won a few hundred marks in the Prussian
lottery and had received permission from the eldest officer at the
table to celebrate it in this way.
Winkler could scarcely believe his ears when his companion said to
him: "You'll do me the pleasure of drinking a glass of champagne
with me, won't you?"
George's first instinct was to cry out: "During the whole time
that I have been here not a single human being has shown me the
least kindliness; I must, therefore, decline the honour." Anger and
indignation rose within him that now, just as he was leaving, anyone
should dare to show hospitality to him, but suddenly his sense of
humour got the upper hand, the invitation seemed so utterly absurd,
and he accepted it with thanks. "But only on one condition," he
added, following a sudden impulse, and then in a loud voice so that
everyone could hear, "On the day when my resignation is accepted I
should like to give a solemn farewell banquet to my fellow-officers.
I can only accept an invitation if I know that I shall have an
opportunity of returning it. You will come, will you not," he said,
turning to his host, "and you--and you and you?" He invited everybody
at the long table, and not a single one refused; all were thinking
the same thing: "If it pleases him, why on earth shouldn't we for
once have a good spread at his expense? One isn't, therefore, pledged
to anything, the thing need go no further."
George was overcome by a feeling of repugnance towards his comrades
when he found that they all accepted his invitation: were they not
ashamed of accepting hospitality from a man whom they had treated so
badly? He had been joking when he gave the invitation, and had felt
quite certain that they would all have made excuses of some sort or
another, and he had been pleased at the idea of these excuses, and
now they had, one and all, accepted! And it did not stop there; the
officers inquired when and where the dinner would be; not in the
club-room, it was to be hoped. The rooms, of course, were beautiful,
but always the same food. How nice it would be to have it in one of
the best restaurants! A few pounds more or less wouldn't matter to
him, of course, and they hoped he would order French champagne only.
"I heard rather a good story lately about that," said one of the
officers; "let's see, what was it? Oh, yes, I remember; If you give
your guest German champagne and tell him it is French, he will not be
deceived, and will not drink it; but give him French champagne and
say it is German he'll drink it right enough. Mind you make a note
of that, Winkler." George promised to remember this and to send the
invitations as soon as he had spoken to his father about it.
"When is your father coming?" George himself did not know, and
expected him daily; so did the "Golden Butterflies." They began to
get anxious when still the old fellow did not come. What if he was
not coming at all? Perhaps it had been the stratagem of George's
to speak about his resignation and to try and produce a change of
feeling towards him; perhaps the old fellow would not appear for
ages, and it had been a trick of George's to make fools of them, to
make merry at their expense, and to a certain extent to have his
revenge on them.
They were getting frightfully anxious about the matter; the joy,
therefore, was great when one day at lunch in the Casino George's
fellow-officer in his company, Baron von Masemann, informed them:
"The manufacturer of trouser buttons has arrived. I saw him last
night in a restaurant."
"Thank Heaven!" was uttered by all; and then the question was
immediately asked, "What's he like?"
"Quite impossible. The fellow wears a ready-made tie, unstarched
cuffs, and a pair of boots that one can see at a glance were never
made in Berlin; and then at dinner the fellow cuts his bread with a
knife instead of breaking it."
"How awful!"
An exclamation of genuine indignation arose from all present.
"Do stop," implored a young lieutenant; "remember we have only just
had our lunch."
"Calm yourselves, my friends," continued the baron; "in spite of all
drawbacks the old boy has _one_ great advantage."
"And what is that?"
"He has a daughter."
"What, really! Winkler never told us a word about it."
All surrounded the speaker, eager with curiosity.
"Is she pretty?" asked one at last, and the others pressed more
closely to hear the answer.
The baron purposely delayed his answer for some time, then he said:
"Pretty? my dear boys, she's much more than that, and although she
comes from the provinces she's awfully _chic_. But you must see her
figure. I can tell you----" and he smacked his tongue.
"Did you get introduced to her?"
"Unfortunately, no; I was with friends in the restaurant, and had
no opportunity of getting rid of them, but this evening it will
be all right. I heard quite by chance that the old trouser-button
manufacturer reserved a table for himself for to-day. I shall take
good care to be there, and when once I am introduced to the young
lady I have no fear about conquering."
"In other words, you are trying to catch the gold fish."
Baron von Masemann calmly lit a cigarette. "Someone will marry her.
Why shouldn't I be that someone?"
"Quite so, but do you think the _coup_ will be successful?"
The baron shrugged his shoulders. "Who can say? One can but try.
After all, one can't get more than a refusal at the worst. And then
why should the old boy say 'No,' if I only succeed in making the
daughter infatuated about me? My family is first-class. I myself
am not worse than other fellows, and the few debts I have are of
no importance; the old fellow has plenty of money, and ought to be
delighted if he can get such an aristocratic son-in-law for his
money."
The others quite agreed; what reason indeed could the father and
daughter possibly have for not receiving the baron with open arms?
And thereupon several of them regarded the suggested engagement as a
_fait accompli_.
"Were you on friendly terms with Winkler when you were together in
the company?" one of the men asked. "Perhaps he'll have a word to say
in the matter."
"I was thinking about that last night," replied Masemann. "We were
certainly not particularly friendly, but still Winkler ought to be
very glad to have me for a brother-in-law. In this way he will remain
to a certain extent connected with the regiment, and that is really
of very great advantage to him. Only think what a position the fellow
will be able to take in Society if he can say, 'My brother-in-law,
Baron Von Masemann.' That is almost as valuable to him as being
aristocratic himself. Naturally I shall manage not to have too much
of my brother-in-law, and shall see that he is not always running in
and out of my house; but that's all later on, the present thing is to
try one's luck."
But that evening the baron had no luck; he waited in vain for the
Winklers. They were all sitting in George's rooms, and the honorary
commercial adviser to the Emperor was telling them of the audience
he had had with His Majesty, and how he had graciously inquired
after George and expressed his pleasure at the way George had acted
with regard to the ill-treatment of soldiers. He went on to tell
them how pleased His Majesty was to hear a good report of him from
the officers and of his popularity among his comrades. His Majesty
greatly regretted that, owing to other arrangements, he could not
keep his promise of asking George to dine with him to-morrow.
"Did I not always tell you so?" concluded the old man. "Do you
remember how at first you wanted to fling down your gun in despair?
Who was right--you or I?"
George exchanged a hasty glance with his sister, whom he had
informed of his resolution yesterday; he had not wanted to spoil his
father's pleasure in seeing him again on the very first day, and he
also wanted to prevent his father from saying anything about his
resignation in his audience with the Emperor. So he had kept silent
till this moment, but now he was obliged to speak, and his father's
last words made the task easy.
"What if I am right after all, father. When I tell you I am just as
much an 'outsider' to-day as I ever was, when I tell you that my
position in the regiment was not improved by His Majesty's praise of
me, and that the officers' story of my popularity was simply a lie to
avoid vexing the Emperor--what would you say then?"
The father looked at his son with astonishment.
"I do not understand what you mean!"
"I will explain myself a little more fully." And he proceeded to
relate in detail all that had happened to him from the very first
day he entered the regiment; how they longed for him to send in his
resignation, and how, at last, he had made up his mind to do so, not
to please the "Golden Butterflies," but simply in order to be able to
enjoy life once more.
The father listened, absolutely disconcerted, then he struck a
sounding blow on the table. "And what if I forbid you to do so, and
order you to remain an officer for some time longer?"
George looked at him calmly. "You will not command me to do this,
father. You told me when I entered the army I was perfectly free to
leave it whenever I liked, and you will not go back from your word."
"But what if I do--what if I don't want the other officers to triumph
in your failure?"
"Then I should resign in spite of it. I am of age and can do what I
like."
The old man was on the verge of losing complete self-control. "And
what if I disinherit you?"
"I should still do it. I have savings enough to live quite free from
all anxiety for some time to come, and as your son I shall soon get
employment somewhere."
Again his father was about to burst forth indignantly, when Elsa
broke into the conversation and tenderly soothed him. "Don't oppose
him any more," she entreated. "George thoroughly discussed the matter
with me yesterday, and to-day I vainly tried to get him to change his
mind; he is so unhappy as an officer that one can't wish him to be
forced to endure it any longer."
The old man sat silent for a long time. "Mother will be frightfully
upset," he said at last.
The brother and sister exchanged swift glances; they knew that the
battle was won, but they took care not to give vent to their feeling
of satisfaction.
"Won't you mind leaving the army?"
"How could I, after all the humiliation I have endured? I rejoice a
thousandfold in taking off my officer's uniform, which apparently
does not go with my views and ideas, although I did my duties very
well compared with others."
"Is not every officer an enthusiastic soldier, then?" asked Elsa.
George burst out laughing. "You innocent angel! I can assure you at
least half of the lieutenants would give in their resignations at
once if they were in a financial position to do so. The best proof
of my assertion is that every lieutenant tries to find a rich wife;
when he has found one he either leaves the army immediately, or stays
there as long as he gets any enjoyment from it. If it becomes too
dull or worrying for him he throws up his commission and says to his
superiors, 'See how you can manage to get along without me. Other
people can be driven mad by your worrying ways, thank Heaven I am no
longer obliged to put up with all these things.' Of course there are
exceptions; there are the ambitious and energetic men who want to get
big military appointments, who dream of red stripes on their trousers
and the title of Excellency; it may be hard for such men to have to
leave the army. And then there are certainly a few who are really
soldiers, heart and soul, but their number is small--where are they
to be found? Among the subordinate officers I have scarcely known
a single lieutenant who did not curse and swear when he was set to
perform a duty, and who would not have preferred to depart at once
if only he knew how he was to earn his living. This sounds hard, but
I assure you it is quite true. Even when a lieutenant says, 'I like
being an officer,' it is generally because of the position it gives
him in Society and not because he likes exercising and drilling the
men. And it is just the same with the captain as with the lieutenant;
his superiors are always running after him, they lead him a hell of
a life, and are always reprimanding him for some fault or other
committed by his men. Who could enjoy military duties under these
circumstances? A man feels stifled. Yet the wretched captain must
bear it all because he has a wife and children and no money, because
he is forced to remain in the army as long as possible to get the
higher pension and so be able to live. He is worried and bothered
from morning to eve, and even then, in the majority of cases, he does
not succeed in getting what he wants, and has later on to suffer
poverty and misery; and if he abandons his uniform with regret it
is not because he is sorry to leave the army, but because of his
wasted life. He is in full possession of all his mental and physical
faculties, and yet he is condemned to inactivity and ceaseless money
worries. Among the superior officers there is certainly to be found
an enthusiasm for the army. There is none among the subordinates, at
least not in the infantry."
The father was peevish and ill-tempered; he controlled himself as
well as he could, but from time to time his indignation burst forth,
and his children found it difficult to appease him.
"And are you really going to give in your resignation to-morrow? Will
you not consider it for another month? Why do you not get leave of
absence for a year, or less, if you like?"
George shook his head. "The sooner I go the better, father. I don't
get on among the officers, who often have the most extraordinary
views on things." And, as if in confirmation of these words, the
servant brought in a letter at that moment.
"Is there any answer?"
"No."
The servant went away and George opened the letter.
"Whatever is the matter?" asked Elsa, who had been watching her
brother while he was reading.
George jumped up. "I have never heard such a piece of insolence in my
whole life. Just listen to this; but first of all I must recall to
you one of my fellow-officers who was sitting in the same restaurant
with us yesterday."
"Oh, yes, that odd young man who was not quite sure at first whether
he should bow to us, and then afterwards attempted to flirt with me
so outrageously," said Elsa. "Well, what about him?"
"Not much," answered George apparently calmly. "He merely wishes to
be allowed to ask for your hand."
Father and daughter looked at one another, speechless with
astonishment, then Elsa broke into a hearty laugh, in which the
others joined too.
"Why, he doesn't even know me," she said.
"Oh, that isn't in the least necessary; he knows your fortune, he
knows that you are a very good _parti_, and naturally that's quite
enough for him. A man can get on all right without love, but not
without money. Well, now, listen to what this fine fellow writes. But
I must tell you beforehand that from the first few of my comrades
were so unfriendly to me as he was."
Then he read out the letter:
"MY VERY DEAR WINKLER,--I am sitting alone and solitary in
the restaurant, and for a whole hour I have been impatiently
watching the door in the hope of seeing you and your people come
in, for I heard by chance that your father had ordered dinner
here for this evening.
"Without telling you, you will, I expect, have already
guessed that I only went into the restaurant to-day in the
happy expectation of being introduced to your sister and your
much-respected father, for I must frankly confess to you that no
young girl has ever made such a deep and indelible impression
upon me as your sister did. Although up to now I have only had
the opportunity of observing her beauty and her grace, yet
I am quite sure that a beautiful soul must dwell in such a
beautiful body, and I have only one wish in the world--to become
acquainted with your sister. As we have always had such pleasant
and friendly relations with one another I venture to ask if I
may pay my respects to your highly-esteemed father and beautiful
sister, and I beg you most courteously to say a few kindly words
on my behalf. Naturally all information concerning myself and
my financial position is at your father's disposal whenever he
likes. In conclusion, I beg you not to be vexed at the somewhat
odd nature of these few lines, but I know that your father is
only staying here for a few days, and I do not want your sister
to leave Berlin without my having the opportunity of becoming
acquainted with her.
"Pray accept my kindest regards for your honoured, but at
present, alas! unknown, relatives, and,--Believe me, with best
greetings, yours very sincerely,
"VON MASEMANN."
"Well, what do you say to that?" inquired George.
"Is it possible?" cried out the old manufacturer. "I must say I have
never heard of such a thing in all my life."
"And what do you think about it, Elsa?"
"I really do not know whether to laugh or be angry about it. I can't
think how he isn't ashamed to write such a letter."
George laughed mockingly. "Ashamed? Why, Elsa, you can know very
little about a lieutenant if you think he would be ashamed of
anything. Your beauty has turned his head, you have a big fortune,
so that's all right; he marches to victory like Blucher to Waterloo.
If he's successful, all right, if he's not, then he seeks his luck
somewhere else; he means to catch a goldfish somewhere or other. The
more impudent he is the more easily he attains to the object of his
desires."
"Not as far as we are concerned," burst out the commercial adviser
to the Emperor. "Please tell your aristocratic friend to-morrow from
me----"
George interrupted him. "No, father, I have already settled about the
answer. He won't much care about it, I can assure you. I am going
to ask him how it is, that he has been unable to have any social
intercourse with me and yet desires to marry my sister." After a
pause he continued, "It is really a pity, Elsa, you are not going to
stay here a few days, for then you would have had all the officers at
your feet; all, from the oldest staff-officer down to the youngest
lieutenant, would try to curry favour with me so that I might say a
good word to you on their behalf. Your thousands would induce even
the most aristocratic lieutenant who usually boasts of his numberless
ancestors, to recognise the _bourgeoisie_ and to condescend to make
you his highly-honoured wife."
"A fine set of people these," said the father, angrily.
"I thank them for the honour they pay me in wishing to marry me for
my money, but I don't think I want to marry at all."
George regarded his sister with amusement. "Ha, ha, one day you'll
find the flame of love, and quite right too. By the way, how old are
you--nineteen or twenty?"
"I am twenty-one now."
"And has no one seriously paid court to you?"
She burst out laughing. "Oh, often, like your comrade here to-day,
but I did not care about any of them, for, oddly enough, it was
always officers who paid me attention, always lieutenants, and,
unfortunately, the only lieutenant whom I love I cannot get."
George looked at her wonderingly. "Why not?"
"Because he happens to be my brother."
Laughingly George drew his sister to him. "Come here, dear, and give
me a kiss." Then he went on. "But seriously, Elsa, you have grown
much more beautiful lately." He was delighted with his sister's
looks: she had a slim figure, a proud bearing, beautiful eyes, and
her whole appearance was charming.
"Do you know that you are very like Hildegarde in many ways?" he
said, suddenly.
It was the first time that he had actually said her name to his
people, and now that he had done it he felt shy and was quite
embarrassed at his sister's glance.
Their father had meanwhile taken up the evening paper, now he laid it
aside. "Go on, George, you yourself began it, you know. You have so
often written to us about your Hildegarde. Who and what is she, and
how do you stand with regard to her?"
George tried to avoid answering, but Elsa urged him to speak. "Do
tell me something about her. In your letters you could not write
enough about her--at any rate, in the beginning! lately I have heard
much less about her. Is she vexed with you about anything?"
"No, I don't think so," answered George, after a moment's thought;
"at any rate I do not know of any reason for it. I told you that
Hildegarde was a relative of my captain, who is now undergoing
imprisonment in a fortress. Naturally during this time Frau von
Warnow does not go out, and so, lately, I have only seen Hildegarde
once or twice quite casually in the street."
"Haven't you spoken to her at all?"
"Twice I meant to do so, but I should have had to inquire how the
Warnows were, and, of course, that would be very disagreeable for me."
"But how do you stand with regard to her," his father asked for the
second time. "You know your mother has prophesied for a long time
that you were going to get engaged to her. Is she right?"
"As you ask me straight out, I will tell you that at first I had the
same idea, and I think that if this horrible business had not come
between us, and if we had seen one another more often, things would
have been all right, but now----"
Elsa saw such a sorrowful and despairing look in her brother's face
that she said to him, "But won't you find it very hard to go away
without seeing her again?"
"I shall see her once again," answered George, with determination. "I
shall pay a farewell visit. I shall ask Hildegarde to name an hour
when I am sure to see her." And then, acting on a sudden impulse, he
said: "By the way, Elsa, I told Hildegarde all sorts of things about
you. I told her you wanted to become acquainted with her, and she
was delighted. Will you do me a favour and call upon her, or, better
still, ask her to call upon you at the hotel? I will be there, too,
and then when we meet again after several weeks we shall know what we
feel towards one another, and if Hildegarde loves me, then----"
"Not so fast, my boy, not so fast," put in the old man. "I am still
in existence. I should like to see my future daughter-in-law before I
am called up to consent and say 'Amen.'"
George had a sudden vision of Hildegarde; the memory of the
delightful hours they had spent together awakened in him a great
longing to see her again.
"Oh, you will like Hildegarde, father, she is beautiful and good,
and in spite of her aristocratic birth she does not share the often
extraordinary views of her class. I have told her a great deal
about you, father; about the factory, your consideration for your
workpeople, your ceaseless activity, and she was interested in
and understood everything." He spoke of her with an ardour and an
enthusiasm which showed how much he cared for her.
"And what sort of a family has she?" inquired old Winkler. "You know
I don't care whether she has money or not--you need not trouble about
that--what I mean is, do you know anything about her relations? Has
she any brothers and sisters? What are her parents?"
George gave what information he could.
"Oh, so there's a scamp of a lieutenant," grumbled the father;
"instead of parents who have no money making their son learn some
business or other, the young fellows have to become officers, so that
they may get drunk on champagne at the regimental banquet."
"But Hildegarde cannot help that," George said, as if he had to
protect her: "and what does her brother matter to me?"
"What does he matter? Well"--the old man got up--"a man does not only
marry a wife, but the whole family, take that from me, my boy, and
so, before taking any steps, we must look into things a bit. But I
will frankly confess one thing to you: I have privately long desired
you to marry. It's all the same to me whom, as long as you love her.
Well, now we can go and see your Hildegarde."