Mr poor companions had but a sorry time of it on that morning. I was in
a fearful temper, and made no effort to control it. The little romance
of my meeting with these creatures was beginning to scale off, and,
there beneath, lay the vulgar metal of their natures exposed to view.
As for old Vaterchen, shuffling along in his tattered shoes, half-stupid
with wine and shame together, I could n't bear to look at him; while
Tintefleck, although at the outset abashed by my rebukeful tone and
cold manner, had now rallied, and seemed well disposed to assert her
own against all comers. Yes, there' was a palpable air of defiance about
her, even to the way that she sang as she went along; every thrill and
cadence seemed to say, “I 'm doing this to amuse myself; never imagine
that I care whether you are pleased or not.” Indeed, she left me no
means of avoiding this conclusion, since at every time that I turned on
her a look of anger or displeasure, her reply was to sing the louder.
“And it was only yesterday,” thought I, “and I dreamed that I could be
in love with this creature,--dreamed that I could replace Kate Herbert's
image in my heart with that coarse travesty of woman's gentleness. Why,
I might as well hope to make a gentleman of old Vaterchen, and present
him to the world as a man of station and eminence.”
What an insane hope was this! As well might I shiver a fragment from a
stone on the road-side, and think to give it value by having it set as a
ring. The caprice of keeping them company for a day might be pardonable.
It was the whim of one who is, above all, a student of mankind. But why
continue the companionship? A little more of such intimacy, and who
is to say what I may not imbibe of their habits and their natures; and
Potts, the man of sentiment, the child of impulse, romance, and poetry,
become a slave of the “Ring,” a saltimbanque! Now, though I could
implicitly rely upon the rigidity of my joints to prevent the
possibility of my ever displaying any feats of agility, I could yet
picture myself in a long-tailed blue coat and jack-boots walking round
and round in the sawdust circle, with four or five other creatures of
the same sort, and who have no consciousness of any function till they
are made the butt of some extempore drollery by the clown.
The creative temperament has this great disadvantage, that one cannot
always build castles, but must occasionally construct hovels, and
sometimes even dungeons and jails; and here was I now, with a large
contract order for this species of edifice, and certainly £ set to work
with a will. The impatience of my mind communicated itself to my gait,
and I walked along at a tremendous rate.
“I can scarcely keep up with you at this pace,” said Tintefleck; “and
see, we have left poor Vaterchen a long way behind.”
I made some rude answer,--I know not what,--and told her to come on.
“I will not leave him,” said she, coming to a halt, and standing in a
composed and firm attitude before me.
“Then I will,” said I, angrily. “Farewell!” And waving my hand in a
careless adieu, I walked briskly onward, not even turning a look on her
as I went. I think, I'm almost certain, I heard a heavy sob close
behind me, but I would not look round for worlds. I was in one of those
moods--all weak men know them well--when a harsh or an ungracious act
appears something very daring and courageous. The very pain my conduct
gave myself, persuaded me that it must be heroic, just as a devotee is
satisfied after a severe self-castigation.
“Yes, Potts,” said I, “you are doing the right thing here. A little
more of such association as this, and you would be little better than
themselves. Besides, and above all, you ought to be 'real.' Now, these
are not real any more than the tinsel gems and tinfoil splendors they
wear on their tunics.” It broke on me, too, like a sudden light, that
to be the fictitious Potts, the many-sided, many-tinted,--what a
German would call “der mitviele-farben bedeckte Potts,”--I ought to be
immensely rich, all my changes of character requiring great resources
and unlimited “properties” as stage folk call them; whereas, “der echte
wahrhaf-tige Mann Potts” might be as poor as Lazarus. Indeed, the poorer
the more real, since more natural.
While I thus speculated, I caught sight of a man scaling one of
the precipitous paths by which the winding road was shortened for
foot-travellers; a second glance showed me that this was Harpar, who,
with a heavy knapsack, was toiling along. I made a great effort to
come up with him, but when I reached the high road, he was still a
long distance in front of me. I could not, if there had been any one to
question me, say why I wished to overtake him. It was a sort of chase
suggested simply by the object in front; a rare type, if we but knew it,
of one half the pursuits we follow throughout life.
As I mounted the last of these bypaths which led to the crest of the
mountain, I felt certain that, with a lighter equipment, I should come
up with him; but scarcely had I gained the top, than I saw him striding
away vigorously on the road fully a mile away beneath me. “He shall not
beat me,” said I; and I increased my speed. It was all in vain. I could
not do it; and when I drew nigh Lindau at last, very weary and footsore,
the sun was just sinking on the western shore of the lake.
“Which is the best inn here?” asked I of a shopkeeper who was lounging
carelessly at his door.
“Yonder,” said he, “where you see that post-carriage turning into.”
“To-night,” said I, “I will be guilty of an extravagance. I will treat
myself to a good supper, and an honest glass of wine.” And on these
hospitable thoughts intent I unslung my knapsack, and, throwing as much
of distinction as I could into my manner, strolled into the public room.
So busied was the household in attending to the travellers who arrived
“extra post,” that none condescended to notice me, till at last, as the
tumult subsided, a venerable old waiter approached me, and said, in a
half friendly, half rebukeful tone, “It is at the 'Swan' you ought to
be, my friend, the next turning but two to the left hand, and you 'll
see the blue lantern over the gateway.”
“I mean to remain where I am,” said I, imperiously, “and to remember
your impertinence when I am about to pay my bill. Bring me the _carte_.”
I was overjoyed to see the confusion and shame of the old fellow. He saw
at once the grievous error he had committed, and was so overwhelmed that
he could not reply. Meanwhile, with all the painstaking accuracy of a
practised _gourmand_, I was making a careful note of what I wished for
supper.
“Are you not ashamed,” said I, rebukefully, “to have _ortolans_ here,
when you know in your heart they are swallows?”
He was so abject that he could only give a melancholy smile, as though
to say, “Be merciful, and spare us!”
“Bohemian pheasant, too,--come, come, this is too bad! Be frank and
confess; how often has that one speckled tail done duty on a capon of
your own raising?”
“Gracious Herr!” muttered he, “do not crush us altogether.”
I don't think that he said this in actual words, but his terrified eyes
and his shaking cheeks declared it.
“Never mind,” said I, encouragingly, “it will not hurt us to make a
sparing meal occasionally; with the venison and steak, the fried salmon,
the duck with olives, and the apricot tart, we will satisfy appetite,
and persuade ourselves, if we can, that we have fared luxuriously.”
“And the wine, sir?” asked he.
“Ah, there we _are_ difficult. No little Baden vintage, no small wine of
the Bergstrasse, can impose upon us! Lieb-frauen-milch, or, if you can
guarantee it, Marcobrunner will do; but, mind, no substitutes!”
He laid his hand over his heart and bowed low; and, as he moved away,
I said to myself, “What a mesmerism there must be in real money, since,
even with the mockery of it, I have made that creature a bond slave.”
Brief as was the interval in preparing my meal, it was enough to allow
me a very considerable share of reflection, and I found that, do what
I would, a certain voice within would whisper, “Where are your fine
resolutions now, Potts? Is this the life of reality that you had
promised yourself? Are you not at the old work again? Are you not
masquerading it once more? Don't you know well enough that all this
pretension of yours is bad money, and that at the first ring of it on
the counter you will be found out?”
“This you may rely on, gracious sir,” said the waiter, as he laid a
bottle on the table beside me with a careful hand. “It is the orange
seal;” and he then added, in a whisper, “taken from the Margrave's
cellar in the revolution of '93, and every flask of it worth a
province.”
“We shall see--we shall see,” said I, haughtily; “serve the soup!”
If I had been Belshazzar, I believe I should have eaten very heartily,
and drunk my wine with a great relish, notwithstanding that drawn sword.
I don't know how it is, but if I can only see the smallest bit of _terra
firma_ between myself and the edge of a precipice, I feel as though
I had a whole vast prairie to range over. For the life of me I cannot
realize anything that may, or may not, befall me remotely. “Blue are the
hills far off,” says the adage; and on the converse of the maxim do I
aver, that faint are all dangers that are distant. An immediate
peril overwhelms me; but I could look forward to a shipwreck this day
fortnight with a fortitude truly heroic.
“This is a nice old half-forgotten sort of place,” thought I, “a kind
of vulgar Venice, water-washed, and muddy, and dreary, and do-nothing.
I 'll stay here for a week or so; I 'll give myself up to the drowsy
_genius loci_; I'll Germanize to the top of my bent; who is to say what
metaphysical melancholy, dashed with a strange diabolic humor, may
not come of constantly feeding on this heavy cookery, and eternally
listening to their gurgling gutturals? I may come out a Wieland or a
Herder, with a sprinkling of Henri Heine! Yes,” said I, “this is the
true way to approach life; first of all develop your own faculties, and
then mark how in their exercise you influence your fellow-men. Above
all, however, cultivate your individuality, respect this the greatest of
all the unities.”
“_Ja, gnädiger Herr_,” said the old waiter, as he tried to step away from
my grasp, for, without knowing it, I had laid hold of him by the wrist
while I addressed to him this speech. Desirous to re-establish my
character for sanity, somewhat compromised by this incident, I said:
“Have you a money-changer in these parts? If so, let me have some silver
for this English gold.” I put my hand in my pocket for my purse; not
finding it, I tried another and another. I ransacked them all over
again, patted myself, shook my coat, looked into my hat, and then,
with a sudden flash of memory, I bethought me that I had left it with
Catinka, and was actually without one sou in the world! I sat down, pale
and almost fainting, and my arms fell powerless at my sides.
“I have lost my purse!” gasped I out, at length.
“Indeed!” said the old man, but with a tone of such palpable scorn that
it actually sickened me.
“Yes,” said I, with all that force which is the peculiar prerogative of
truth; “and in it all the money I possessed.”
“I have no doubt of it,” rejoined he, in the same dry tone as before.
“You have no doubt of what, old man? Or what do you mean by the
supercilious quietness with which you assent to my misfortune? Send the
landlord to me.”
“I will do more! I will send the police,” said he, as he shuffled out of
the room.
I have met scores of men on my way through life who would not have felt
the slightest embarrassment in such a situation as mine, fellows so
accustomed to shipwreck, that the cry of “Breakers ahead!” or “Man the
boats,” would have occasioned neither excitement nor trepidation. What
stuff they are made of instead of nerves, muscles, and arteries, I
cannot imagine, since, when the question is self-preservation, how can
it possibly be more imminent than when not alone your animal existence
is jeopardized, but the dearer and more precious life of fame and
character is in peril?
For a moment I thought that though this besotted old fool of a waiter
might suspect my probity the more clear-sighted intelligence of the
landlord would at once recognize my honest nature, and with the
confidence of a noble conviction say, “Don't tell me that the man yonder
is a knave. I read him very differently. Tell me your story, sir.” And
then I would tell it. It is not improbable that my speculation might
have been verified had it not been that it was a landlady and not a
landlord who swayed the destinies of the inn. Oh, what a wise invention
of our ancestors was the Salique law! How justly they appreciated
the unbridled rashness of the female nature in command! How well they
understood the one-idea'd impetuosity with which they rush to wrong
conclusions!
Until I listened to the Frau von Wintner, I imagined the German language
somewhat weak in the matter of epithets. She undeceived me on this head,
showing resources of abusive import that would have done credit to a
Homeric hero. Having given me full ten minutes of a strong vocabulary,
she then turned on the waiter, scornfully asking him if, at his time of
life, he ought to have let himself be imposed upon by so palpable and
undeniable a swindler as myself? She clearly showed that there was no
extenuation of his fault, that rogue and vagabond had been written on my
face, and inscribed in my manner; not to mention that I had followed the
well-beaten track of all my fraternity in fraud, and ordered everything
the most costly the house could command. In fact, so strenuously did she
urge this point, and so eager did she seem about enforcing a belief
in her statement, that I almost began to suspect she might suggest an
anatomical examination of me to sustain her case. Had she been even
less eloquent, the audience would still have been with her, for it is
a curious but unquestionable fact that in all little visited localities
the stranger is ungraciously regarded and ill looked on.
Whenever I attempted to interpose a word in my defence, I was overborne
at once. Indeed, public opinion was so decidedly against me, that I felt
very happy in thinking Lynch law was not a Teutonic institution. The
room was now filled with retainers of the inn, strangers, town-folk,
and police, and, to judge by the violence of their gestures and the loud
tones of their voices, one would have pronounced me a criminal of the
worst sort.
“But what is it that he has done? What's his offence?” I heard a voice
say from the crowd, and I fancied his accent was that of a foreigner. A
perfect inundation of vituperative accusation, however, now poured in,
and I could gather no more. The turmoil and uproar rose and fell, and
fell and rose again, till at last, my patience utterly exhausted, I
burst out into a very violent attack on the uncivilized habits of a
people who could thus conduct themselves to a man totally unconvicted of
any offence.
“Well, well, don't give way to passion; don't let temper get the better
of you,” said a fat, citizen-like man beside me. “The stranger there has
just paid for what you have had, and all is settled.”
I thought I should have fainted as I heard these words. Indeed,
until that instant, I had never brought home to my own mind the utter
destitution of my state; but now, there. I stood, realizing to myself
the condition of one of those we read of in our newspapers as having
received five shillings from the poor-box, while D 490 is deputed to
“make inquiries after him at his lodgings,” and learn particulars of his
life and habits. I could have borne being sent to prison. I could
have endured any amount of severity, so long as I revolted against its
injustice; but the sense of being an object of actual charity crushed me
utterly, and I could nearly have cried with vexation.
By degrees the crowd thinned off, and I found myself sit-, ting alone
beside the table where I had dined, with the hateful old waiter, as
though standing sentinel over me.
“Who is this person,” asked I, haughtily, “who, with an indelicate
generosity, has presumed to interfere with the concerns of a stranger?”
“The gracious nobleman who paid for your dinner is now eating his own at
No. 8,” said the old monster with a grin.
“I will call upon him when he has dined,” said I, transfixing the
wretch with a look so stern, as to make rejoinder impossible; and then,
throwing my plaid wrapper and my knapsack on a table near, I strolled
out into the street.
Lindau is a picturesque old place, as it stands rising, as it were, out
of the very waters of the Lake of Constance, and the great mountain of
the Sentis, with its peak of six thousand feet high, is a fine object
in the distance; while the gorge of the Upper Rhine offers many a grand
effect of Alpine scenery, not the less striking when looked at with a
setting sun, which made the foreground more massive and the hill tops
golden; and yet I carried that in my heart which made the whole picture
as dark and dreary as Poussin's Deluge. It was all very beautiful.
There, was the snow-white summit, reflected in the still water of the
lake; there, the rich wood, browned with autumn, and now tinted with a
golden glory, richer again; there were the white-sailed boats, asleep
on the calm surface, streaked with the variegated light of the clouds
above, and it was peaceful as it was picturesque. But do what I could,
I could not enjoy it, and all because I had lost my purse, just as
if certain fragments of a yellow metal the more or the less, ought to
obscure eyesight, lull the sense of hearing, and make a man's whole
existence miserable. “And after all,” thought I, “Catinka will be here
this evening, or to-morrow at furthest. Vater-chen was tired, and
could not come on. It was _I_ who left them; I, in my impatience and
ill-humor. The old man doubtless knew nothing of the purse confided to
the girl, nor is it at all needful that he should. They will certainly
follow me, and why, for the mere inconvenience of an hour or two, should
I persist in seeing the whole world so crape-covered and sad-looking?
Surely this is not the philosophy my knowledge of life has taught me. I
ought to know and feel that these daily accidents are but stones on
the road one travels. They may, perchance, wound the foot or damage
the shoe, but they rarely delay the journey, if the traveller be not
faint-hearted and craven. I will treat the whole incident in a higher
spirit. I will wait for their coming in that tranquil and assured
condition of mind which is the ripe fruit of a real insight into
mankind. Pitt said, after long years of experience, that there was more
of good than of bad in human nature. Let it be the remark of some future
biographer that Potts agreed with him.”
When I got back to the inn, I was somewhat puzzled what to do. It would
have been impossible with any success to have resumed my former tone
of command, and for the life of me I could not bring myself down to
anything like entreaty. While I thus stood, uncertain how to act, the
old waiter approached me, almost courteously, and said my room was ready
for me when I wished it.
“I will first of all wait upon the traveller in No. 8,” said L
“He has retired for the night,” was the answer. “He seems in very
delicate health, and the fatigue of the journey has overcome him.”
“To-morrow will do, then,” said I easily; and not venturing upon an
inquiry as to the means by which my room was at my disposal, I took my
candle and mounted the stairs.
As I lay down in my bed, I resolved I would take a calm survey of my
past life: what I had done, what I had failed to do, what were the guiding
principles which directed me, and whither they were likely to bear me.
But scarcely had I administered to myself the preliminary oath to tell
nothing but the truth, than I fell off sound asleep.
My first waking thought the next morning was to inquire if two persons
had arrived in search of me--an elderly man and a young woman. I
described them. None such had been seen. “They will have sought shelter
in some of the humbler inns,” thought I; “I'll up and look after
them.” I searched the town from end to end; I visited the meanest
halting-places of the wayfarer; I inquired at the police bureaus--at
the gate--but none had arrived who bore any resemblance to those I asked
after. I was vexed--only vexed at first--but gradually I found myself
growing distrustful. The suspicion that the ice is not strong enough for
your weight, and then, close upon that, the shock of fear that strikes
you when the loud crash of a fracture breaks on the ear, are mere
symbols of what one suffers at the first glimmering of a betrayal. I
repelled the thought with indignation; but certain thoughts there are
which, when turned out, stand like sturdy duns at the gate, and will
not be sent away. This was one of them. It followed me wherever I
went, importunately begging for a hearing, and menacing me with sad
consequences if I were obdurate enough to listen. “You are a simpleton,
Potts, a weak, foolish, erring creature! and you select as the objects
of your confidence those whose lives of accident present exactly as the
most irresistible of all temptations to them--the Dupe! How they must
have laughed--how they must yet be laughing at you! How that old drunken
fox will chuckle over your simplicity, and the minx Tintefleck indulge
herself in caricatures of your figure and face! I wonder how much of
truth there was in that old fellow's story? Was he ever the syndic of
his village, or was the whole narrative a mere fiction like--like--” I
covered my face with my hands in shame as I muttered out, “like one of
your own, Potts?”
I was very miserable, for I could no longer stand proudly forward as the
prosecutor, but was obliged to steal ignominiously into the dock and
take my place beside the other prisoners. What became of all my honest
indignation as I bethought me, that I, of all men, could never arraign
the counterfeit and the sham?
“Let them go, then,” cried I, “and prosper if they can; I will never
pursue them. I will even try and remember what pleased and interested me
in their fortunes, and, if it may be, forget that they have carried away
my little all of wealth.”
A loud tramping of post-horses, and the cracking of whips, drew me to
the window, and I saw beneath in the court-yard, a handsome travelling
britschka getting ready for the road. Oh, how suggestive is a well
cushioned calèche, with its many appliances of ease and luxury, its trim
imperials, its scattered litter of wrappers and guide-books,--all little
episodes of those who are to journey in it!
“Who are the happy souls about to travel thus enjoy-ably?” thought I, as
I saw the waiter and the courier discussing the most convenient spot to
deposit a small hamper with eatables for the road; and then I heard the
landlady's voice call out:
“Take up the bill to No. 8.”
So, then, this was No. 8 who was fast getting ready to depart,--No. 8
who had interposed in my favor the evening before, and towards whom a
night's rest and some reflection had modified my feelings and changed my
sentiments very remarkably.
“Will you ask the gentleman at No. 8 if I may be permitted to speak with
him?” said I to the man who took in the bill.
“He 'll scarcely see you now,--he's just going off.”
“Give the message as I speak it,” said I; and he disappeared.
There was a long interval before he issued forth again, and when he did
so he was flurried and excited. Some overcharges had been taken off
and some bad money in change to be replaced by honest coin, and it was
evident that various little well-intended rogueries had not achieved
their usual success.
“Go in, you 'll find him there,” said the waiter, insolently, as he went
down to have the bill rectified.
I knocked, a full round voice cried, “Come in!” and I entered.