SECRET TREASURES.
Amrie knew so well how to make herself at home in the house of John’s
parents, that, on the second day, it seemed as though from her
childhood she had grown up there. The old man clattered after her, and
observed how handily and neatly she took hold of every thing, and how
she finished her work without haste and without rest.
There are people, who, if they were to do the smallest thing, to fetch
a plate or jug, they disturb the thoughts of all who are sitting near;
they draw, as it were, all thoughts and glances after them. Amrie, on
the contrary, accomplished every thing so quietly, that she made others
feel more at ease, and of course more grateful for all she did for them.
How often had the old farmer scolded, because, when salt was needed,
some one had to get up from the table to fetch it! Amrie, as soon as
the table-cloth was spread, placed the salt-cellar upon the table. As
the old farmer praised her for it, his wife said, smiling, “One would
think that you now for the first time began to live, that nothing had
been salted for you before.” Then John told them that Amrie was called
the Salt Duchess, and related the story of the king and his daughter.
They had now a happy life together in the house, in the farm-yard and
in the fields. The farmer said he had not for years tasted food as good
as that prepared by Amrie. He wished for something three and four times
a day, at quite unusual hours, and she was obliged to sit by and see
him eat.
The mother took Amrie with quiet and secret satisfaction into the
milk-cellar and store-rooms; afterwards to a gayly painted press, full
of napery and linen, and opening it said, “This is thy dowry. There is
nothing wanting but the shoes. I rejoice that you have preserved all
yours, for I have a peculiar superstition upon that subject.”
When Amrie inquired how certain things had been hitherto conducted in
the house, she nodded, and expressed her secret satisfaction only in
the tone of her voice, while her content with Amrie brought joy to her
very heart. As she now gave over to her much of the housekeeping, she
said, “Child, I must say one thing; if any of the present arrangements
do not please you, alter them according to your own judgment, for I am
not one of those who think that every thing must remain as it has been,
and that no improvement is possible. You have a free hand, and I shall
rejoice to see fresh aid to the farm; but if you will take my advice,
it will be to do good by degrees.”
That was a happy state of things, when both mentally and bodily
youthful strength went hand in hand with old preserved experience.
At the same time Amrie, from the bottom of her heart, declared that
she found every thing in the house so ordered that she should be too
happy, if in her old age she could give up the house in its present
established order.
“You look far before you,” said the mother, “but that is well--those
who look forward look also back, and you will not forget me when I am
no longer here.”
Messengers had been sent to the sons of the house, and to the
sons-in-law and their families, to invite them to Zusmarshofen on the
next Sunday, to consult upon family matters. Since the sending of these
messengers, the old man followed Amrie continually, and seemed to have
something on his mind which it was difficult for him to express. It is
said that a buried treasure is guarded by a black monster, and that in
the night of Christmas, a blue flame appears above the spot where the
treasure is buried, which only a Sunday’s child can see; and he, only,
when he can keep himself calm and pure, can raise the treasure.
One would scarcely believe that in old Farmer Landfried such a treasure
was buried, guarded by the two monsters, pride and contempt, and
that Amrie saw the blue hovering flame, and knew how to recover the
buried treasure. It is difficult to say what influence had impelled the
old man to that moral exertion, to appear in her eyes good and true
minded; especially that he gave himself so much trouble to please a
poor, portionless girl. To Amrie it was clear that he was not willing
his wife should appear as the just and loving one, and he bitter and
severe, and especially as Amrie before she knew him had said, “She
believed he would not give himself the trouble to appear well before
others.” This had opened his heart. Whenever they were alone, he talked
so much that it appeared as though his thoughts had been under lock and
key, and were now for the first time opened. They were, indeed, like
wonderful, old fashioned coins, old keepsakes, that would not pass now,
that had been stamped upon extraordinary occasions. Some of them were
of pure silver, without alloy of copper. He could not bring out his
treasures as easily as the mother, when she was talking with John. His
speech was stiff in the joints, but he always had something to say;
he even appeared to take Amrie’s part against the mother. “Look!” he
would say, “My wife is as good as the day, but the day is not a week or
a year. She is but a woman. With women it is always April weather; a
woman is but half a man. That I will maintain, whatever comes of it.”
“You give us splendid praise,” said Amrie.
“Yes, it is true,” said the old man, “though I say it to you. But, as
I said, my wife is thoroughly good--almost too good--it displeases her
if one does not immediately take her advice: she means so well that she
thinks we do not know how good she is, if we do not imitate her. She
cannot understand that the circumstances are unsuitable when we do not
follow her. One thing remember; do things in your own way as you think
right; that will please her. You will easily remark that she does not
like to have one appear subject to her. Should any thing happen to go
wrong, do not complain to your husband; nothing can be worse, than that
a man should stand between his mother and her daughter-in-law. And the
mother says, ‘I am nothing now; my daughter-in-law governs; even one’s
own children forsake one in her old days.’ And the daughter-in-law
says, ‘Now I know what you are; you let your wife be oppressed.’ I
advise you if any thing of this kind happens, to tell me in secret,
and I will help you. Say nothing to your husband; he has been a little
spoiled by his mother. Only go on quietly, and come to me. I am your
natural protector, and, indeed, related to you by a distant connection
with your mother.”
He now sought to connect the different branches of his family, but he
could not find the right threads, became tangled like a snarled skein
of yarn, and concluded with, “You may believe it upon my word, though I
cannot reckon it aright.”
The time had come when he gave away, not merely false groschens from
his hoards, but it gave him pleasure to part with good honest money.
One evening he called Amrie to him and said, “Look, my girl, you are
brave and sensible, but you do not know what men are. My John, indeed,
has a good heart, but it may yet sometimes vex him that you came to
him with nothing of your own. Here, take this, but let no living soul
know from whence it came; say, that by your industry you have saved it.
Here, take it.” He put into her hand a stocking well filled with crown
dollars, and added, “I intended he should first receive them after my
death; but it is better so; he will have it now, and think it came from
you. Your whole history is so strange, so contrary to all probability,
that it may well be possible that you possessed a secret treasure. Do
not forget that there are two and thirty crown dollars; they are each
worth a groschen more than common dollars. Lock it well up in the chest
where you keep your linen, and take the key always with you. On Sunday,
when the relations of the family are all collected, shake them out upon
the table.”
Amrie took the stocking very reluctantly and said, “I am not willing to
do this; if it is necessary, I think John is the person to receive this
money.”
“It is necessary. John, however, may take it; but still, conceal it
quickly. I hear John coming. Quick, wrap it in your apron. I believe
John is jealous of me.”
They parted hastily from each other. The same evening the mother took
Amrie into the store-room, and brought an apparently heavy sack out of
a trunk, and said, “Pray untie that string for me.”
Amrie found it very difficult. “Wait, I will bring you the scissors; we
will cut it.”
“No,” said Amrie, “I would not willingly do that. Have a little
patience, I shall soon untie it.”
The mother smiled, while Amrie, with skilful fingers, at length untied
the hard knot. “That is brave,” she said; “now look and see what there
is within it.”
Amrie saw gold and silver coins, while the mother continued, “Look,
child, you have worked a miracle with the farmer. I cannot understand
how it has been done, but you have not wholly converted him; he still
repeats what a pity it is that you have nothing; and he believes
that in secret you possess a pretty little fortune, and that you
only conceal it from us to try us, and see if we will accept you
with nothing. We will not speak of this, his secret thought; thus an
idea has come into my mind which I trust is not sinful in the eye of
God. Look, these I have spared and saved in the six and thirty years
we have lived together. Part of it is also an inheritance from my
mother. Now take it, and say it is your own; this will make the farmer
happy--especially as he has suspected something of the kind. Why do you
look so confused? Trust me, when I tell you that you can do it without
the least injustice. I have examined it upon every side. Now conceal
it, and say not a word to the contrary. Give me no thanks, not a single
word, for it is all one, whether my child receives it now, or later,
and it will give my husband a life-long joy. Now, fasten it up again.”
Early the next morning, Amrie told John all that his parents had said,
and all that they had given her.
John burst into a hearty laugh. “Heaven forgive me,” he said, “of my
mother I could easily believe this--but from my father! I could never
have dreamed of such a thing. You are a true witch. The best of it is,
that neither of them is to know what the other has done; each would
deceive the other, and both are deceived, for each will believe that
you really had in secret the money they each have given you. It is too
good! It is enough to make one die with laughing!”
In the midst of all this joy, there was yet mingled much anxiety.
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