Two days after, Jochen Prebrow was standing before the door of his
house, just after his second breakfast, looking out to sea through a
long spy-glass, which with his left hand he rested against the tall
flag-staff that stood before the house. Worthy Jochen might often be
found in the same spot, engaged in the same occupation It was not that
he sought or hoped to find anything unusual out at sea; but in leisure
moments the spy-glass, which usually rested on two crooked bars close
beside the door under the shelter of the projecting roof, afforded an
excellent amusement, even if, as at this moment, there was nothing to
be seen on the sea except the waves, here and there crested with foam,
dancing merrily in the morning breeze.
But to-day the worthy Jochen did not even see the foam-crested waves;
he saw absolutely nothing at all; yet when, at the end of five minutes,
he put down and closed the spy-glass, his broad face wore an expression
as anxious as if he had perceived a large ship, driven by a north-east
storm on the Wiessow cliffs, and his neighbor Pilot Bonsak had said she
could not be saved.
And the same anxious expression rested upon the plump face of his
Stine, who had just appeared in the doorway, and with both hands,
usually so busy, idly folded under her apron, began to gaze at the blue
morning sky and shining white clouds scattered over it, without even
noticing her Jochen, who was standing scarcely six paces away.
"No, no," sighed Stine.
"Yes, yes," said Jochen.
"Jochen, how you frightened me!"
"And it is frightful, when one thinks of it," said Jochen.
He had opened the spy-glass again, and was evidently about to resume
his former occupation; but Stine took it out of his hands, put it in
its place, and said in a somewhat irritated tone, "You do nothing but
look through the old thing, and I so worried that I hardly know whether
I'm on my head or my heels."
"Oh! but if you don't know, Stine"--
"How am I to know? Why are you my husband, if I, poor creature, am
expected to know everything? And she has just asked me again whether
the Swede is not yet here. Poor girl! To go all that long way in such a
nutshell of a boat! And who knows whether the people over yonder will
want her. They are only fourth or fifth cousins."
Stine had spoken with great emotion, but in a suppressed tone, and had
drawn her Jochen out to the blackthorn hedge that divided the sandy
little garden from the sandy village-street. Jochen had a vague
perception that as a man and a husband, and moreover sole innkeeper of
Wiessow, he must say something, so he replied: "You'll see, Stine, we
sha'n't carry it through."
"Jochen, I wouldn't have believed you were so bad," exclaimed Stine,
as, sobbing violently and pressing both red hands over her eyes, she
turned away from her husband and went back to the house.
Jochen was left standing by the hedge, and raised his arms; but the
spy-glass was resting quietly in its place, and, in consideration of
his wickedness, he did not venture to take down the care-dispeller. So
he let his arms fall again and thrust his hands into his pockets. Thank
God, here was his pipe! It now had many idle hours, for Stine could not
bear smoking, and if she should see him now when she was so angry, she
probably would not make friends again.
Jochen let the pipe slide back into his pocket, and gazed at the
sparkling sea like one who, without any optical instrument, still sees
only too distinctly the spot where just now a majestic ship went down
with all on board.
"Good-morning, Prebrow," said a voice close beside him.
Jochen slowly turned his blue eyes from the distant horizon towards the
gentleman who, with the collar of his coat turned up over his ears, had
just passed along by the hedge with hasty strides.
"Good-morning, Herr In--"
"St--" said the gentleman, stopping and putting his finger on his lips.
Jochen nodded.
"To-night!" continued the gentleman; "I tell you, because, after
everything has gone on well, until now, somebody might at the last
moment get some suspicion, and inquire of you. Of course you don't know
me."
"Heaven forbid!" replied Jochen.
The gentleman nodded and was about to continue his walk, but paused
again as if struck by the troubled expression of Jochen's face, and
added: "You needn't take it to heart, Prebrow; it serves the Rahnk
right; their conduct is a disgrace to Wiessow and the whole region, and
after all there is no one who would not be glad to have you get rid of
the rascals. And when I come back next time, Prebrow, I shall of course
lodge with you; this time I must keep out of the way."
The gentleman nodded, walked lightly away, and after casting a rapid
glance around him, entered the pilot's house.
"A damned miserable business," muttered Jochen, without exactly knowing
which of the two he meant, the one going on in his own house, or the
other of which the Herr steuer-inspector had just spoken. It was
probably the former; the second certainly did not concern him at all,
but it was a secret the more, and he already had far too much trouble
with one.
"Good-morning, Jochen."
This time Jochen was actually frightened. There was his brother Clas in
the very spot where the Herr inspector had just been standing.
"Why, good Heavens, Clas, what brings you here?" he exclaimed.
"Ah! you may well say that, Jochen," answered Clas.
"Is the smithy burned?"
"Why, Jochen, how can you ask such stupid questions?"
The bridge of understanding seemed broken. The feeling that the whole
world was one dark secret, and he the unhappy man who had to guard it,
overpowered Jochen still more.
"Won't you come in, Clas?" said he.
He could not help saying that; he could not leave his only brother, who
moreover was the elder of the two, standing in the street.
Clas Prebrow instantly accepted his brother's invitation,
notwithstanding the unbrotherly tone in which it was given, shook hands
with Jochen, and said, glancing towards the house, "You're very well
off here, Jochen."
Jochen nodded.
"And probably have a great many guests."
"What business is it of yours?" cried Jochen violently, as if he had
been bitterly insulted.
"Why, I only asked the question," said Clas.
"There is no one here at all," cried Jochen, "no one at all;" and he
stepped before the other as he was making his way towards the house.
"That happens just right," said Clas; "then I can turn back and tell
old Herr Wenhorf and Herr Gotthold that they can get lodgings in your
house."
Jochen was perfectly horrified. What should he do? He had promised to
keep silence, but what could silence avail if Herr Gotthold came
straight into the house, and the old gentleman too, for whom he had
such a wholesome respect. If the latter fixed his clear old eyes upon
him, he must certainly tell everything, and--"Stine, Stine," shouted
Jochen, as if the only inn in Wiessow were in flames from top to
bottom.
"Jochen, have you gone perfectly crazy? Don't you think at all of--"
Stine, who had come running out of the house at her husband's loud
outcry, suddenly slopped short and stared at her brother-in-law with
open mouth.
"You see," said Jochen with great satisfaction.
"Where is he?" asked Stine.
Clas Prebrow felt that his diplomatic reserve would not answer with the
clever Stine, and at this stage of his mission he must drop the mask.
So he rubbed his large, hard, blackened hands contentedly, and showed
his white teeth, but suddenly grew grave again, and said, while his
glance wandered over the row of windows in the upper story, "Wouldn't
it be better for us to go in?"
They went in and entered the little sitting-room directly behind the
large coffee-room, which Stine only left for a moment to get from the
cupboard a bottle of rum and two glasses, that the brothers might drink
to each other's health, and Clas's tongue should not get dry in case he
had a great deal to tell.
Clas probably would have had a very long story, but remembering that
the gentlemen were awaiting his return, he cut it short.
They had come upon the right clew the very first evening, but lost it
again the following day because the lady left the carriage she had
taken at Ralow, in Gulnitz, and went on on foot, to conceal her route.
She succeeded so well in this, that they spent a whole day and night in
searching, and only recovered the lost trail late yesterday evening in
Trentow. To be sure, it would now scarcely have been doubtful what
direction she had taken; but they had left the carriage at noon at Herr
von Schoritz of Schoritz, who was a friend of Gotthold's, in order to
proceed on their journey on foot to mislead Herr Brandow, in case he
was behind them, and therefore they had been obliged to rest a few
hours in Trentow, and to-day they were coming from Trentow, and he ran
on before, less to inquire whether the lady was here than to beg his
sister-in-law to prepare her, that she might not be too much
frightened.
"Oh! goodness gracious," said Stine, "poor, poor child! we were obliged
to promise solemnly that we would not betray her."
"Stine, we sha'n't be able to carry it through," said Jochen.
In her heart Stine had never expected to do so; nay, she had always
prayed that Heaven would interpose and send Herr Gotthold to them
before it was too late. To be sure, she could not acknowledge this
openly, but neither did she wish to be actually unfaithful to the
promise she had given Cecilia, and in her perplexity began to weep
bitterly.
Jochen nodded assent, as if he wanted to show his Stine that she had
now taken the right course. Clas emptied his glass and said, rising,
"So we shall be here in fifteen minutes. You're so clever, Stine, you
can easily settle matters, and you can come with me, Jochen."
Jochen started up and went out of the room so hastily that he left his
glass half full. Stine intended to pour the liquor back into the bottle
again, but in her absence of mind drank it herself. Tears fell from her
eyes: "We poor women!" she murmured.