Upon these happy days, whose number I cannot even give--for who counts
days like these?--followed others that were as full of unrest and
intervals of gloom, as those were of calm and sunlight.
We were all in Berlin: the commerzienrath, my betrothed, Fräulein Duff,
and myself; the commerzienrath staying at a hotel with the ladies, I in
my old den once more in the ruinous court, where my presence was now
more necessary than ever. To be sure, it was not so in the eyes of
Hermine, who laughingly maintained that as the rubbish had lain there
so long already, it might well lie awhile longer; but I thought
differently. There was really no time to be lost. I had partly
persuaded and partly forced the commerzienrath, by long and urgent
conversations, to agree to undertake my favorite scheme. The plan of
the building had been long complete in my head, and now, with the help
of a skilful architect, was complete upon paper. There was both less
and more to do than I had thought; but we had arrived at the conclusion
that we could get through with the main part of the work by autumn, and
be able to work in the new buildings in the winter, always supposing
that the necessary funds did not fail us. In reference to this last
critical point, I was only half informed; by no fault of my own,
however, as despite all my efforts I had not been able to bring the
commerzienrath to a clear statement of his affairs. Even now I cannot
think, without a feeling of pain and shame, of the interminable debates
I had with him upon this point, from which I sometimes left him full of
confidence and hope, and at other times weighed down with doubts and
cares. Could he command the necessary funds? Of course he could, and it
was ridiculous to doubt it for a moment. Had he really maturely
reflected upon a determination which involved so much? Of course he
had. Did I take him to be in his dotage, or suppose that he did not
understand his own wishes? That was a ticklish question to which, for
very intelligible reasons, I did not care to answer "yes" to his face,
and yet to which, in my own breast, I could scarcely find another
answer. It was plain that he was no longer the man he had been, the man
he must have been to hold the threads of a hundred heavy and important
undertakings at once, and draw his profit and advantage from all. In
some moments he seemed to have a consciousness of the change that had
come over him, but he then did not complain of himself but of the times
which had changed, so that his old theories were no longer applicable.
His old theories, and he might have added his old practices and his old
tricks. All his life long the man had been a partisan of fortune, a
buccaneer upon the high seas of traffic and life, a free-lance upon the
long caravan route to El Dorado, a gamester at the green-table of
chance, who had often staked copper pence for gold pieces, and, favored
by fortune and time, gathered in gold pieces for copper pence. And now
the time, as he clearly felt, had changed, and his luck had left him.
He did not deny that he had suffered great losses, but took care never
to state how great these losses really were. He had never insured
either his ships or their cargoes, and, as he said, had always found
his advantage in doing so. But lately two had gone down with all on
board, and though he attached no great importance to this latter
feature of the calamity, he felt severely the loss of the cargoes,
which were unusually valuable. Then again a sudden fall in the price of
breadstuffs had reduced by one-half the value of his immense stocks in
his warehouses at Uselin, and then the failure of his hope of selling
Zehrendorf, as the young prince, whose father still lay very ill at
Prora, seemed to have given up all thoughts of it, and for which Herr
von Granow, who had before been all agog to purchase, now declined to
make any offer--as I suspected, at the instigation of the justizrath,
who seemed to know more of his client's affairs, and to be less
scrupulous in using his knowledge, than was by any means favorable to
the interests of the latter. Other things were also added. The long and
tortuous channel leading between the island and the firm land to
Uselin, had, in consequence of the disgraceful neglect of the
authorities, silted up to such a degree that it was now only passable
for vessels of very light draught, and the danger of its complete
closure seemed scarcely avoidable. Thus the traffic of the town, the
greater part of which had been in the hands of the commerzienrath, was
as good as destroyed; the large docks which he had repaired at his own
private expense in part, his immense warehouses and other buildings,
had partly become entirely worthless, and the remainder greatly
depreciated in value. For several years trade had turned to the much
more favorably situated town of St. ----, and now, since this town had
been connected with the capital and the interior by the railroad,
Uselin could no longer contend with its more fortunate rival. The
commerzienrath quite lost his self-control every time he came upon this
topic; he declared railroads to be an invention of the devil, and
asseverated that it was a sin and a shame to ask him to assist with his
own funds the diabolical system that was ruining him. When I pointed
out to him that the bane might be made the antidote, that he must turn
the altered position of affairs to his own advantage, and that he was
in a situation to do this on the largest scale if we only carried
resolutely out my plan for extending our works, he caught at this idea,
which had seemed so hateful a moment before, with the greatest
enthusiasm, but only to go over the same ground the next day.
These were trying weeks, and the dark shadow which they threw still
darkens in my memory the sunshine which, heaven be thanked, even at
this time brightened so many of my hours.
With what unalloyed pleasure do I recall my return to the works, which
really resembled a triumphal procession! Now I reaped the reward of
having been always, whatever the changes of my fortune, on brotherly
terms with my comrades of the hammer and file, that I had omitted no
opportunity of promoting their welfare and being serviceable to them
with head and hand. No distinction nor success in later days--and my
life has not been passed without a share of both--has ever made me so
proud as the certain knowledge that among all these men with the
knotted callous hands and the grave faces furrowed with toil and too
often with care, there was not a single one who grudged me my good
fortune, and that by far the most rejoiced in it with all their hearts.
I still see them before me--and often has the memory brightened my
hours of dejection--their friendly eyes lighted with sincere pleasure,
as they looked at the "Malay" going, escorted by the manager, through
the shops, and presenting himself to them privately in friendly
confidence as their new chief. I still hear the cheers they gave when a
day or two later I had them officially assembled and made them a
speech, in which I said in few words what filled my heart to
overflowing. And when the triple cheer had died away, with what
importance the head-foreman cleared his throat as he commenced a reply,
in which the worthy man's favorite theme, "Go ahead!" was treated with
the boldest license of speech, and the peroration of which was lost
without a trace in the primitive forest of his whiskers and in the
emotion he could not master. And was it not the good Klaus whose voice
intoned another outburst of cheering, compared with which the first
both in length and vehemence, was mere child's play? I have to laugh
even now when I think of the confusion in which I was plunged when an
hour later the Technical Bureau, in white cravats and gloves, waited
upon me in a body, and its speaker, Herr Windfang, compared me to the
Khalif of Bagdad, who for a long time had lived unknown among his
faithful subjects, and at last took the lofty station which belonged to
him of right.
Yes, these are bright and happy memories, all the brighter and happier
that the following years, so far from belying the promises made then by
sanguine hope, fulfilled them all in abundant measure. At this very
day, when I look at the assembled force of workmen in the
establishment, I see for the most part the dear well-known faces of
that time, not grown any younger, it may be, by the lapse of years, but
none the less dear to me. And those whom I no longer see--all but very
few--have been drawn off by that great rival whom we name Death.
"But what sort of a bridegroom is a man who has nothing but blast
furnaces, pigs of iron, and frightful things of that sort in his head?"
said Hermine, "and who knits his forehead into such ugly wrinkles! Let
me smooth them out"--and she passed her hand over my brow and eyes--"If
I had known all this, I would never have fallen in love with you, you
sooty monster!" And she threw herself in my arms and whispered in my
ear: "Tell me at once that you love your old ugly workmen more than you
do me, so that I may know what I have to do."
"You have to go with me through the works to-day, and to be nice and
kind to the ugly men, and to me more than all."
"And why to you?"
"That they may see how happy I am."
"What is that to them?"
"It is a great deal to them."
"But what?"
"It is the certainty that when they come to me to represent their
distresses, they will find a man who is ready to help if he can."
"I never knew anybody with such odd notions. When shall we go?"
"At once."
So we went through every part of the whole establishment, Hermine
opening great eyes of wonder and sometimes clinging tight to my arm,
but she was very kind and friendly to the men, only a little cool and
distant with the gentlemen of the Technical Bureau--so cool and distant
that Herr Windfang's beautiful speech, which he had known by heart for
a week, stuck fast in his throat.
"Why were you so ungracious to the poor fellows?" I asked.
"Poor fellows?" said Hermine, pettishly pouting. "They did not look
that way to me; and Herr Windfang, or whatever his name is, struck me
as a complete coxcomb. I did not promise to be gracious to men of his
stamp."
"But they belong to us."
"Nobody belongs to us. We belong to one another, you to me and I to
you: remember that once for all, if you please!"
I laughed, but afterwards had some serious reflections on a peculiarity
of character in my betrothed, which struck me not for the first time
this morning. She interpreted the expression that we belonged to each
other, quite literally, and when she appeared to make an exception to
it, it was only in appearance, and always in favor of persons who were
really in need of help, and to whom she could condescend as a princess
to her subjects. Towards such she could behave with proud, but
perfectly irresistible kindness.
I shall never forget how, upon the occasion of a little tour that we
made through the island in these first happy days, and in which we
visited the lonely village on the coast which had played so memorable a
part in my flight--how she sat by the old sailor's widow, patted her
brown wrinkled hands, wiped the tears from her brown wrinkled face, and
consoled her with the assurance that her son would yet come back in
spite of all; told her stories, which she invented at the moment, of
sea-faring men who had returned laden with riches after being supposed
lost for ten or twenty years; and how in the meantime she must look
upon us two as her children, and that we would take care of her and
make her comfortable in her old age. So too when we went to Uselin she
was friendly beyond all my expectation to my sister, who had recently
increased her family for the seventh time. She gave presents to all the
children, who were very far from being either pretty or amiable,
offered to be godmother to the new-comer, and contrary to her custom
did not ridicule even the blundering attempts at politeness and clumsy
obsequiousness of my brother-in-law.
"Poor people," she said: "Seven children and such a little house and
such a little father. How did you ever manage to grow so big in that
house, George, without knocking a hole in the roof with your hard head?
And your father was quite as tall as you, and had every bit as hard a
head. I don't wonder that you two could not get along together in such
a nutshell of a house. But we must take care of them, George; don't
forget that."
And then again my good Klaus and his Christel with her four children--a
fifth was expected soon--had occasion to rejoice in her kindness,
though in a different fashion. She had not shrunk from climbing the
three interminable flights of stairs, and getting Christel to initiate
her into the more recondite mysteries of the washing and ironing arts,
nor from listening to Klaus's long enumeration of his wife's virtues.
"Even if I were not compelled to like Klaus for his faithfulness to
you, he would have captivated me by the way he worships his pretty
plump wife. There, George; here's a pattern for you to follow. For him
the world began with the moment when the waves cast up his Christel,
who must have been then just as fat and white and nice as she is now,
on the beach; and if she should be so unfeeling as to die before
him, he would lie down and die too. And so will I do, if you should
die--" she added, and looked at me with compressed lips, and angrily
contracted brows.
Towards the poor, towards all who were dependent or seemed so, her
proud nature could be kind and condescending; but all who wished to win
her favor must make no pretensions to my affections, claim no place in
my heart which she desired to dwell in and occupy alone. The lightest
apprehension that any one besides herself might take possession of what
was hers alone, filled her with an alarm which the vivacity of her
nature could seldom long conceal, and which found vent sometimes in
gloomy anger, sometimes in hot passionate tears. But how could I,
beloved by this proud beautiful creature, complain of what after all
was but an excess of that in which others daily exhibited so lamentable
a deficiency? No; no word of complaint shall my pen enter in these
records of my life, as none ever passed your lips, you good and noble
hearts that loved me well, but withdrew to one side lest an unguarded
look might seem to accuse her or myself.
Hermine felt this and understood it; and said sometimes, when Paula or
Doctor Snellius visited us so very seldom, and her cheeks flushed while
she said it:
"I ought to be ashamed to come thus between you and your friends; it is
ungenerous, it is mean, I know; I know it, George, but I cannot help
it; I cannot spare a crumb that falls from the table of our love. If I
could only live with you on some lonely island, in the farthest seas,
and some day an earthquake came and the island sank in the waters, and
no one even knew of the spot where we had been so happy! But here among
all these people for whom you have to care, who take an interest in you
or you in them, for whom you must work, and, worse still, those who
have no claim of any sort upon you, and take a cruel pleasure in coming
about us, and questioning us, and watching us, as if we were on the
world for no other purpose. I already think with horror of Uselin, and
the curious looks of all the population, no one of whom can spare
himself the treat of seeing the great clever George marry the little
stupid Hermine. And then the celestial weeping of the two Eleonoras, to
one of whom you are a traitor, you monster! or Duffy's tears of joy
when she hears from the good pastor's mouth what she has known for
eight or nine years! It is frightful! Couldn't we slip into some church
about twilight and be married by a pastor, who would see us both for
the first, and, as far as I am concerned, for the last time, and get
for witnesses two or three old men or women who might happen to be
about, who would not know us the next day, if they should meet us on
the street?"
I cannot say that this wish of Hermine's was very strongly opposed to
my own feelings--rather the contrary. But my father-in-law declared
that he felt it incumbent upon him as the first citizen of Uselin, that
his daughter's marriage should take place in that town. He held to this
with an obstinacy which he was not wont to display to his daughter; and
so we had to yield the point.
Nor can I say that the fateful day proved by any means so terrible as
we had fancied it. The discourse of the good pastor, who was the same
that had officiated at my confirmation, and must even then have been an
aged man, was very long and very rambling, it is true; the St. Nicholas
church looked as bald and bare as ever, and the hundreds of eyes that
were all fixed immovably upon us, all with the identical look as if we
were presently to be executed before them, made the bleak space by no
means more comfortable; the great dinner at the commerzienrath's villa
was pompous and ceremonious to the last degree, and the healths and
speeches a little flat and stupid--all these facts I admit; but then on
the other hand it was the church among the timber-work of which I had
performed so many neck-breaking gymnastic feats, and from whose belfry
I had so often gazed longingly over land and sea into the blue
distance; and among the indifferently-curious faces there was here
and there one that I should have been sorry to miss on this day; and
then the day itself, one of the brightest days of summer, was so fair,
the sky so blue, with great white motionless clouds, the air so
crystal-clear, that the old town looked really young in the splendid
sunlight, and the threadbare uniforms of Luz and Bolljahn, those
energetic guardians of the peace, who had held the youth of the streets
assembled in front of the church in check in a most masterly manner,
seemed absolutely new; and in the harbor, where all the ships had run
up their colors, the bright pennons fluttered so gaily in the fresh
east wind; and upon the wide expanse of waters the wavelets were
dancing so merrily, beyond the strait the white chalk-cliffs of the
island glittered so brightly, and upon the island was Zehrendorf, for
which we started as the sinking sun began to tinge with red the edges
of the white clouds.