Among all the friends, Felix was the only one who looked forward to the
ball not only without impatience, but even with a secret aversion. He
was in no mood for masquerading; and, if he had not been afraid of
giving offense to the good companions who were desirous of paying him
this last honor, he would have been up and away long before this. He
gave out that it was his fixed intention to leave on the day after the
ball, and answered all objection in regard to the season, which made a
sea-voyage impossible, by saying that he had important business matters
to look after in his native place, the sale of his estates, and the
making out of certain papers that it would be necessary for him to take
with him across the ocean.
Jansen alone knew the real reason of his hasty flight. Daily
intercourse with his old friend, and the confidential understanding
that had once more sprung up between them, was all that lightened for
Felix the painful burden of these last days. It is true Jansen had
never been able to bring himself to initiate Felix into the history of
his unhappy marriage as thoroughly as he had Julie. That he had once
thrown himself away on an unworthy woman, and that he was now doing all
in his power to effect a dissolution of the hated bond, but without
success, since he had no legal proofs of her guilt, and she herself
obstinately refused to give the child up to him--all this they had
discussed one night over a bottle of wine, and had finally consoled
themselves with the thought that the land across the ocean might
eventually prove a place of refuge for Jansen also. Felix laughingly
suggested that they should undertake a mission, and preach the gospel
of high art to the redskins; and they had discussed the prospect of
winning over some American Cr[oe]sus, and, by some colossal work,
suddenly attracting the eyes of the whole world upon them.
Then they might found an art society in the backwoods, on a somewhat
different scale from that to which people were accustomed in Germany,
and each member should receive as an initiation present a cast of the
group of Adam and Eve.
So they went on building castles in the air in the midst of the dark
clouds that overhung their sky; and even Julie joined gladly in this
cheerful tone, though her own heart was very heavy.
But, as the day of parting drew nearer and nearer, Felix's mood became
steadily more depressed and wretched. Schnetz was almost the only one
of his friends whom he cared to see; and he expended all his eloquence
in trying to persuade him to follow his example and shake the dust of
the Old World from his feet. Why should he lie here and grow rusty? why
should he, in his best years, voluntarily withdraw himself from life
and play the valetudinarian before his time? On the other side of the
water, abilities like his would not be allowed to lie idle, his good
wife would renew her youth again, and he might safely trust to the
Yankees to provide him with plenty of material for the exercise of his
Thersites-like black art during his leisure moments. To all this
Schnetz replied by silently and thoughtfully rubbing his ear, without,
however, giving any reason to believe that he absolutely declined the
proposal. Indeed, he seemed to be bent upon keeping the lonely and
dejected youngster in as good spirits as possible, and was especially
active in trying to laugh away Felix's distaste for the ball, as an
attack of sentimentality that a future American ought not to yield to.
If it was a bother for him to look after a costume, he would be very
glad to lend him a helping hand.
Felix thanked him for his good-will. He had, among the various relics
of his travels, the complete suit of a Spanish majo, which he had
brought with him from Mexico. The velvet jacket bordered with silver,
the knee-breeches and the gay silk stockings, the red net for the hair,
and whatever else belonged to the complete equipment of a Spanish
dandy, became him excellently; and though in his present mood he had no
thoughts of attempting any conquests, he was, nevertheless, glad that
he would be able to show himself to his artist friends in a genuine
national costume, and not in any patched-up frippery.
But, when the night of the ball arrived, it was long before he could
make up his mind to put on this gay dress. He had packed his luggage,
paid his landlady, and made all his preparations for departure. When at
last he stood alone before his glass in his empty room, surrounded only
by his trunks, and proceeded to fasten the net in his hair, he could
not help bursting out into a loud laugh, in spite of his melancholy
mood, at the absurdity of his dancing a fandango on the eve of
launching himself into the uncertain future of a life beyond the sea.
The sound of his voice roused old Homo, who never left him now, from
his usual half-slumberous state. The sober animal started, for a
moment, with an almost disapproving air at the internal and external
transformation that had come over Felix; then he rose slowly from his
place near the stove, walked up to his master, and rubbed his broad
nose against his hand.
"So even you are amazed, old boy," cried Felix, caressing his faithful
companion, "at my merry spirits? Come, you shall experience a still
greater miracle. I will take you with me; you are the only one of your
race on whom the gates of Paradise are not shut."
He took up a little black wood guitar, which properly belonged to his
costume, and fastened it with red ribbons on the shaggy back of the
dog, who patiently submitted to the process. Then he called his
landlady, cautioned her not to let him sleep too late the next morning,
as he must take the first train, ordered a carriage, and rolled away,
through the mild winter's night, to the English Garden, over the soft
snow that had already begun to thaw in the warm wind.
He had to pass by Irene's hotel, and he looked up at her dark windows,
and felt surprised that this parting look brought no tears to his eyes.
Indeed he felt as if he were one who had bidden farewell to life; and
only he who lives can sympathize. The dog slept patiently at his feet.
When the carriage jolted over a stone, the strings of the guitar
sounded, and the sleeping animal growled wonderingly in his dreams.
It was on the stroke of nine when the carriage drew up before the back
entrance to the little garden of Paradise. The dance was to begin at
seven, but it mattered little to Felix how much of it he missed. Not
until he found himself in the vestibule was he able, by a powerful
exertion, to shake off the depression of his spirits and steel himself
to appear cheerful. He was aided in this resolve by the sound of the
music that issued from the dancing-hall, and more especially by the
aspect of Fridolin, the janitor, who, arrayed in the most ridiculous of
costumes, played the part of warder, and permitted no one to enter who
could not prove to his satisfaction that he was one of the invited
guests. He was posted here in the character of the angel with the
flaming sword, in a white, ruffled robe--with a golden girdle, two
immense wings suspended from his back, a rose behind each ear, and a
flaming wooden sword covered with gold-leaf in his hand. In this
costume he sat behind a little table, on which stood an earthenware
beer-mug, and greeted the late guest with a sly and hearty nod of his
elegantly-dressed head, at the same time showing his long white teeth
and bestowing a self-satisfied look upon his costume. Felix stood at
his side convulsed with laughter and full of admiration at the success
of the disguise.
Herr Rosenbusch had provided him with this beautiful dress, remarked
the old fellow, evidently much flattered at the notice taken of him.
But how handsomely the Herr Baron was dressed, and how glad he was that
he had brought Homo with him! It was right that such an animal should
know what carnival-time was like. This time it was unusually merry
inside there. Each member had been allowed to invite a friend, and he
in his turn to bring a lady; there were fifty or sixty present, to put
it at the lowest figure. But he enjoyed himself best outside here, for
the beer kept cooler, and he could take a look in from time to time,
especially now when it was probable no one else would come, except a
lady whom Herr Rosenbusch was still expecting.
Felix completed the paradisiacal mood of the good old man by forcing a
very considerable present into his hand as a parting gift, for he was
not going to visit the studio again. Then he escaped as quickly as
possible from his thanks, and entered the large central hall of
"Paradise," where the dancing was going on, the regular meeting-room
having been transformed on this occasion into a supper-room.
It took him some time before he could separate the different groups and
distinguish his friends, in the general whirl and confusion. Looking
over the heads of the dancers, he saw half a dozen strange creatures
mounted on a raised platform--gigantic tree-toads, a brown salamander,
and a bat, who, playing upon two or three fiddles, a clarionet, a horn,
and a bass-viol, composed the orchestra. Some of these amphibious
beings, overpowered by the heat, had taken off their heads and fastened
them on their backs, thus presenting a still more fantastic appearance
by the contrast between their bearded, flushed, and very prosaic human
faces and their reptile skins. This feature of the ball was also the
work of the battle-painter, who, having little trouble in arranging his
own costume, had been indefatigable in helping the others by deed and
word. He now approached Felix, skillfully winding his way through the
dancing couples, drew forth a snuff-box and a blue-checked handkerchief
from his brown cowl, and murmured several Latin sentences of welcome
and blessing; and not until he had played his _role_ for some time
longer did he gravely shake hands with his laughing friend, and
reproach him for coming too late.
Felix had no time to excuse himself, for a tall Englishman, who
was just dancing by with a blonde-haired Suabian girl, stopped
suddenly, led his partner out of the dance, and advanced upon our
friend--Elfinger, with Angelica. Then followed another welcome, another
examination of the costumes, and much laughter and admiration.
Angelica, in her pretty national costume, and standing by the side of
the ridiculous caricature that Elfinger carried out with unswerving
dignity, appeared to very great advantage, especially now when the
excitement of dancing caused her eyes to sparkle and her cheeks to
glow. Rosenbusch told them how much trouble he had had in persuading
her to wear this dress, for she had obstinately persisted in coming as
a Dachau peasant-girl, and making a scarecrow of her figure. She was
guilty, unfortunately, of the weakness of not wishing to be conceited,
which all women ought to be, according to the wise decree of
Providence; and to stand aloof in this way from an hereditary sin was
really one of the worst sorts of coquetry, and should be consigned to
eternal punishment by holy men like himself.
To this the good soul replied in a tone of mock anger, defended herself
bravely against his ecclesiastical arrogance, and refused to listen to
the sermons of any other sect but her own. She gave Felix a most hearty
welcome, but with a certain sly smile, as if she knew of some
particular masquerade joke that was in preparation for him; and then
took him by the hand and led him to Jansen and Julie, who were the
handsomest couple at the ball--"so far, at all events," she added, with
the same mysterious expression as before.
In order to reach the two, they were obliged to work their way through
the whole length of the hall, and were often delayed by the whirl of
the dancers. So Felix had plenty of time to examine the company. He
recognized but few of them in their costumes. A stout Arab, with a dark
face and wearing a white burnoose, approached him, bowed low with his
hands on his breast, and then withdrew after this dumb greeting to take
possession of a chair at the lower end of the hall. It was only when he
saw the way in which he comfortably settled himself in it that Felix
recognized him. But just as he was on the point of going after Rossel,
a young Greek, gorgeously dressed in full armor, attracted his
attention. He and his partner, a beautiful girl, were dancing madly in
and out among the waltzing couples, yet without creating the slightest
confusion.
"Stephanopulos!" whispered Felix. "Do you know his partner?" Angelica
shrugged her shoulders, and apparently preferred to leave the question
unanswered. There was no lack of pretty girls, and, although they
belonged to the most different social ranks, they all bore themselves
with the like respectability, and, with all their freedom, with natural
good taste. The young architect stepped up to say good-evening to him.
He wore a becoming Flemish costume, and his companion, who was not
exactly pretty, but looked sensible and modest, was dressed as a
mediaeval burgher's daughter, with a large coif and ruffles about the
neck. Then the couple danced a graceful provincial dance to the
_Laendler_ that the band was playing, waltzing round and round in the
same spot, or separating in fantastic figures to approach each other
again and take each other by the finger-tips.
Kohle also danced, but entirely by himself, in an exceedingly comical
costume, for he represented St. Dionysius, who was accustomed to carry
his decapitated head under his arm. For this purpose he had rigged up
an immense cabbage-head, had painted it and hung it round with long
horse-hairs, while his own head was ingeniously encircled by a huge
aureole, from which there hung a golden fringe covering his face, so
that, from a distance, this yellow, dazzling disk seemed to rest
immediately on the neck. This figure, half ghastly, half droll, slowly
swung itself about among the whirling couples, to the sound of the
music, occasionally going through with a little extemporaneous
buffoonery, especially with the Capuchin, who evinced a deep respect
for the holy man, which he expressed by incessantly offering him his
snuffbox, and by mating frantic efforts to kiss the head of the martyr.
"Where is Schnetz?" asked Felix. Angelica appeared not to have heard
the question; for just at this moment they arrived at the side of the
hall where the windows were, and where several spectators were sitting,
among them Jansen and his betrothed. "Isn't she adorable?" whispered
Angelica, as she led her companion close up to the couple, who welcomed
him with a joyful exclamation. Indeed, it would have been impossible to
see anything more magnificent than this beautiful blonde girl, dressed
in the rich folds of a dark-red velvet dress, with puffed and slashed
sleeves, her beautiful neck bare, and wearing no other ornament than a
delicate Venetian chain; her blonde hair, slightly curled, flowing
freely over her shoulders, and set off by a few dark flowers. It seemed
to Felix, also, that he had never seen her in her real beauty before
to-day, and the sweetness of her expression completed the charm. Jansen
stood at her side in his dark suit, not less full of dignity and
character, but looking only like a courtier standing by the side of his
princess. They had neither of them danced, for he did not care for it,
and she did not like to fly through the hall with any one else. They at
once offered him a seat by their side, for Elfinger had once more taken
possession of his Suabian maid, and began a pleasant conversation, in
the course of which he could not help noticing that Julie now and then
threw in some playful allusion and smiled slyly, while they were
talking about the most ordinary things, just as Angelica had done
before. He dropped a word or two about his approaching departure, which
they did not seem to hear at all.
"Have you seen the lieutenant yet?" asked Julie, suddenly. "You ought
to look him up, he has been wandering about the whole room in search of
you. If I remember rightly he just went into the next room, possibly to
console himself with a glass of wine for his ill success in finding
you."
She smiled and laid one of her beautiful hands in that of her
betrothed, while with the other she played with her black fan.
Felix rose. A restless curiosity seized upon him.
"Sha'n't we go into that sanctum, too?" he said. "We might sit down
together at one of the little tables, and have some supper."
"Perhaps you will find better company," she replied, turning away from
him. "We are a couple of tiresome old lovers, and you are a young
Spanish lion who has not yet found his lioness. Go alone; we will
follow quite soon enough."
She nodded to him pleasantly, again with a peculiar expression. He left
them, shaking his head, and wound his way through the maze of dancers,
to the real hall of Paradise.