HOW A VILLAGE PASTOR WAS SUMMONED TO COURT.
The Pastor's wife had been standing a long time at the window, looking
earnestly through the panes of glass; the road was only to be seen from
a corner window, the view from the others being intercepted by the
sharp gables of a projecting barn, which a peasant, from the wish to
annoy a former pastor, had built on the spot; adding an unusually high
roof, to block out all view from the Parsonage. Now that there was a
clergyman whom they all liked, the barn unluckily could not be removed.
The Pastor's wife was not able to see very far even from the
unobstructed window, for this was one of those days, when twilight
seems to prevail from one night to another; the sun shone dimly, like a
watery yellow ball, through the thick clouds which now overspread the
whole landscape. When the Pastorin saw the sledge close to the house
she nodded, but did not open the window, standing still as if fixed to
the spot. She would gladly have run down to welcome her husband, but
she knew that he disliked any public display of emotion or excitement;
he was of a shy and simple nature, and shrunk from all eager welcomes
or agitated leave takings.
She sent the maid down however instantly, who quickly pressing the
latch opened the house door. In order to do something, the Pastorin
once more arranged the cups and the bread, though all was in perfect
readiness; she took up her husband's well warmed slippers, lying beside
the stove, and turned them the reverse way; she took the kettle with
boiling water off the stove, and poured in fresh water. A pleasant
warmth was diffused through the room, for people who live on the
mountains understand this art.
"Good morning, Lina," said the Pastor, as he at last entered the room,
"God be praised, indeed, that I have got home again!" He unfastened his
fur cloak, and, as it was heavy, his wife assisted him.
"Is Edward still asleep?"
"No; he is gone out shooting. I sent him to meet you. Did you not see
him?"
"No."
The atmosphere of the room seemed too stifling for the Pastor, for he
opened the window, stood beside it for a few minutes, and then said:
"It was lucky that you did not know about the wolf, prowling about in
the wood, that all the people are in search of; perhaps you might have
imagined that the monster would swallow me up."
"Come, sit down and warm yourself," answered his wife, pouring him out
a cup of hot coffee. "I will hold the cup for you; I see that your
fingers are so stiff from cold, that you can't take it yourself.
Swallow only a couple of mouthfuls at first. What was the cause of your
being sent for, in the middle of the night, to that fierce old woman,
the Roettmaennin? No, no; first drink your coffee, and you can answer me
at your leisure. I can wait."
"Lina," said the Pastor, a singular smile stealing over his face,
"Lina, you may well be proud. I must be one of the most agreeable
companions in the world. Ah! this coffee is capital. Only think, Lina!
it was just one o'clock, for I heard it strike on the Wenger clock when
I arrived at Roettmannshof. My reception there was rather noisy, for I
was greeted by such an uproarious welcome, that I could really scarcely
get out of the sledge. The good people had unchained all the watch-dogs
during the night, saying it was not at all necessary to tie them up
when the Pastor was coming; the worthy souls really entertaining the
strange superstition, that the word of God is a sure defence against
vicious dogs, even in the dark. It was some time, therefore, before I
could make my way into the house, as all the dogs were first obliged to
be shut up in their kennels. Give me another cup of coffee, Lina, it is
so good--"
"Well, and what then?" said his wife.
The Pastor looked at her with a smile, and continued--
"The snow in that country comes up to the knees, but it has at least
one good property; that of being clean, though it does wet one to the
skin in the most remarkable manner. I luckily did not stumble over the
huge logs in the yard, hidden in the snow, and the puddles were so
obliging as to be frozen over. 'Where is your master?' said I. 'He is
in bed.' 'Is he dangerously ill also?' 'No, he is asleep.' 'Really! I
am summoned to his dying wife, and the husband is comfortably
sleeping:' a very easy going, pleasant world this is, thought I: well,
I went straight to the sick woman's room--'God be praised! Herr Pastor,
that you are come at last.' What! that is not surely the voice of a
woman at the point of death? I asked why I had been summoned in the
middle of the night. 'Oh! my good Herr Pastor,' said the Roettmaennin,
'you are so kind, so very kind, and have the art of conversing and
instructing so delightfully, that the very sight of you is reviving,
and makes me entirely forget my dangerous state. Here have I been lying
for seven nights, scarcely able to close my eyes, and I can't tell you
how bored and tired I am. I thought the time would never pass, so I
just sent for you. You are so good natured, Herr Pastor, I thought you
would sit and talk to me for a while and amuse me--my husband must on
no account hear that I sent for you, I am not at all in his good graces
at present; he goes from home as often as he can, and even when he
stays with me, he scarcely says one word; I believe he would have been
very glad if I had died long ago, and as for my only child, Adam, he
seems scarcely to know that I am in the world. Oh! Herr Pastor! any one
obliged as I am to lie here day and night, in this solitary house,
unable to do anything, would feel, like me, every day that passes to be
an eternity, and every night even worse. If my Vincent were still alive
he would have watched by me day and night; he would have nursed me in a
way in which no other human being ever can. So my good kind Pastor, sit
down here and talk to me. Would you like a glass of good Wachhold
brandy? it will warm you, you must take it, and shall positively not
refuse. Kaety, take down that long-necked green bottle from the shelf,
the one farthest back, and give a glass of brandy to the Pastor.' What
do you think were my feelings, Lina, when I heard the woman so coolly
pouring forth all these fluent speeches?"
"I should have had great difficulty in refraining from very hard words
to such a bold evil creature. Quite too bad! To drag you out of your
own house, on a cold December night, over snowy mountains."
"And a wolf wandering about, too," said the Pastor, indignantly.
"Don't talk about a wolf," rejoined Lina hastily, "this Roettmaennin is
the most ferocious wolf of all. I hope you gave her your opinion."
"Assuredly I did--may I be a little vain between ourselves? I must say
then, that never in my life was I better pleased with myself. I own I
could scarcely help laughing at her cool impertinence, and her childish
want of consideration, for children are just so; they only think of
themselves, and not of the sacrifices they exact from others. Say what
you will, there is a certain degree of simplicity in the selfishness of
the Roettmaennin; she thinks only of herself and never of others. Of
course I did not fail to tell her that it was rather an arbitrary
proceeding, so coolly to dispose of a person's night's rest, and that I
did not even feel flattered by her esteeming my conversation so highly,
and sending a court equipage for me, commanding me to appear at court.
Still, as I was actually there and had lost my night's sleep, I
conversed with her, and tried to amuse her, so far as my powers
permitted, and she took her share in the conversation, relating to me
various anecdotes of good and evil; but she evidently preferred the
latter, her chief delight being in detailing all sorts of bad actions,
to prove the wickedness of the world, and she always wound up by
saying:--'Before I die, there is one favour I ask of God; which is to
give me some sign as to Vincent's murderers, that they may be all
hanged and burned, even supposing half the village were included.' You
know that when she begins on this subject, she is full of vindictive
projects; and yet I have pretty good proof that she had no great love
for Vincent while he was alive. Now, however, she speaks of him with
the most enthusiastic fondness, and as if all her love were buried in
his grave, for no heart is so entirely evil that it does not seek some
valid reason for such bitterness; striving to prove that it had been
devoted to some particular object, for whose sake all else is to be
disregarded. I tried to appeal to her conscience by saying, that it was
certainly permitted to love the dead, but that nothing more could be
done to benefit them, whereas a great deal might be done for the
living; and that she ought, at last, to yield about the affair of Adam
and Martina, I depicted to her the delight she would take in her
grandson; I tried to persuade her, that in reality she had sent for me
on this very account, but felt a certain reluctance to own this
honestly to me, but--I do believe a wolf must be lurking very near
there--the Roettmaennin broke out into a loud howl, that she could only
have learned from a wolf; it really made me shudder with horror, and I
thought to myself, she will die on the spot, for sure am I that her
rage will choke her; she clutched the wall in her fury, and scratched
it with her nails, and at last sank back; however she very soon started
up again, and exclaimed: 'I thank God that I am still alive, and I
trust He will spare my life for many a year to come, that, even if I
cannot leave my bed, I may still have strength to cry out and to
protest, and with my last breath I will cry out and protest, that
never, never shall that miserable beggar's daughter, who herself led my
Adam astray, become the mistress of this house. Why, in these days, are
there no longer men to be found, to send out of the world such a
wretched creature, and her child into the bargain? Pretty clergymen we
have now! all lazy, good-for-nothing black coats; they have no longer
the fear of God before their eyes, for here is a Pastor who actually
recommends a reward for sin and wickedness. Martina ought rather to
stand at the church door, with a wreath of straw on her head, to do
public penance. But here she shall never come; no! not if a thousand
such--such hypocritical parsons were to pretend they had a message from
Heaven; and if they were to wring my neck for it, my last cry would be,
she shan't come here--she shan't come here: I will not suffer it, and
this very day I will take care to settle that point.'
"The father and son having been startled out of their sleep by the
savage scream of the Roettmaennin, now hurried into the room, and the old
man spoke to me just as if I had intruded myself of my own accord into
his house, and begged me distinctly to understand that he would not
allow his wife to be tormented, let Schilder-David send whom he would.
Adam stood with clasped hands and looked beseechingly at me. I had no
idea that the young man could look so gentle and anxious. I felt as if
I were one of those doomed men who, in legends, are summoned by demons
to do them a service. What a world this is! Are these the very men to
whom, for ten long years past, I have been anxiously preaching the
Gospel? Every word that I would fain have said seemed to freeze on my
lips. I only desired that the sledge might be instantly got ready to
take me home, but they paid no attention to me. At last Adam said, 'I
will drive you home myself, Herr Pastor. Pray forgive all that has
occurred.'
"'No!' exclaimed his mother, violently, 'he shan't go with you.
Christopher, hold him fast; he is quite capable of marrying his
good-for-nothing mistress on the spot.'--The father desired Adam to
stay at home, and he made a vow to his wife--laying his hand on the
Bible that I had left open--(it made me shudder to see the man make
such a vow on this holy book)--as a token that he would faithfully
perform it--that this very day he would see Adam's betrothal completed
with the Forest Miller's Tony.
"I scarcely remember how I got out of the house; I called the servant
who had fetched me and told him that I would walk on, and that he was
to follow me as soon as possible with the sledge. Morning was just
beginning to dawn as I went down the hill and through the forest, and I
felt as if I were flying from a cavern where demons dwelt. I don't
think that I lost my way, but the wolf met me; the animal stood still
for a moment, looked at me as if uncertain what to do, and then trotted
off quietly into the wood. I cannot deny that I was trembling from head
to foot, and never in my life did I feel so paralyzed from terror as at
that instant; besides it was frightfully cold, and I was very foolish
to walk on alone. There was no sign of the servant and the sledge. I
thought it very possible that those hard hearted creatures would
prevent his coming at all, and make me go home on foot; I retraced my
steps a short way, and anger and bitterness made me feel actually quite
warm--not far from the farm I met the servant, driving along in no
hurry, and luckily I found the flask of Kirsch in my pocket, that
you made me take with me. I cannot tell you all the thoughts that
passed through my mind during the hour when I was driving home, in a
half-waking state. Both King Solomon and Sirach have described a wicked
woman very impressively; I could furnish them with very lively
additions to their delineation--but, my precious Lina, of what value
would be either goodness, or the love of a fellow creature, without
being tested by wicked men? Still I cannot but rejoice that I have
decided on leaving this district. I shall soon enter my fiftieth year,
so I require less severe work; I have had hard enough toil in the days
of my youth, and even if I lose my present and my future Cure also, by
persisting in my resolution, I am quite determined never to marry Adam
to any one but Martina."
Drawing a deep breath, and dashing away the tears in her eyes, the
Pastorin said:--
"Yes, I do indeed think it will be a very good thing that we should go
to another country where men are more civilized, and will also do more
justice to your merits."
"Do not forget, however," said the Pastor, "that, although we have
often much boorishness to contend against, still we have many very
worthy persons here also. In our new destination we shall be sure to
find both good and bad, and work enough--but now I must say I am
dreadfully tired--I can see no one till eleven o'clock--I must go to
rest, so try to keep all as quiet as possible. Good night, or rather
good morning! When I rise, I shall feel as if a whole year had elapsed,
since the nocturnal visit to the Roettmanns."
The Pastor went to his bedroom, which was cleverly heated, by the
parlour stove being placed in the wall between the rooms. Soon all was
as still in the house as if it were midnight.
Lina glided about on tip-toe, and she hung a green cloth over the
bird-cage, to silence the bird; and, for the second time to day, she
gave a liberal breakfast to those unfortunate beggars, waiting outside,
the sparrows and goldfinches. The wind speedily dispersed the crumbs
she scattered on the window-sill--the hungry little creatures seemed
however to find plenty of food, and at last flew away as quietly as if
they had known that the Pastor's sleep was not to be disturbed. The
Pastorin sat at the window with her work in her hand, and made anxious
signs to any one approaching the house to be quiet; presently she saw
the most pleasing of all sights in the country--the letter-carrier
coming up to the house, and ran down quickly to meet him at the door to
prevent his ringing, receiving from him several packets of letters from
relatives and friends in the capital. She would not open any of the
letters, for she wished that her husband should be with her when she
read them, and that they should enjoy all the pleasant news together.
None of the letters were however directed to her, and one bore the seal
of the Consistorial President.