CHAPTER IV.

MASTER FINK HAS A SINGULAR DREAM.

But although in our waking hours we are generally successful in keeping

the workings of our mind in check, it is different when we are asleep.

Then we are the slaves, and imagination is the master, the magician

which plays us the most extravagant pranks. It is like sitting in a

theatre, witnessing the representation of a play which sways us this

way and that, which makes us laugh, which makes us weep, which makes us

enjoy, which makes us suffer.

On the night following Louisa's departure I dreamed of the old days

and of Louisa in the pride of her beauty. I was sitting on my low

stool, soling and heeling her boots, golden boots, with jewels round

the eyelet holes. A silver hammer was in my hand, and as I tapped and

tapped and drove in the shining nails, musical notes rang out.

"Louisa is yours she loves you, loves you, loves you!"

And then the linnet which hung above me in a crystal cage piped sweetly,

"Let me out--let me out!"

I opened the door of the cage, and straight through the window flew the

little bird--through the open window, from which I saw the church and

the churchyard so closely associated with one memorable Sunday in my

life. And who should come dancing towards me over the tombstones but

Louisa, dressed in the self-same dress she had worn on that Sabbath,

and with the self-same bit of ribbon at her throat. The linnet,

wheeling round and round her pretty head, encircled it with thin lines

of light, and still in the musical ringing of the silver hammer I heard

the song,

"She loves you, loves you, loves you!"

Suddenly we were walking in a great field of flowers, and I was gazing

in rapture at Louisa's golden boots. A thousand linnets were singing

above us, the flowers were whispering around us, Louisa's hand was

resting in mine.

"Then it is all a dream these eighteen years," I said to her.

And she answered, "Yes, it is all a dream. How could you be so foolish

as to believe that I loved any man but you? What proof of my love shall

I give you?"

"Make this field of flowers," I said, "grow above our heads, so that we

shall be hidden from the world, and there shall be only you and I."

Immediately the flowers began to grow higher, higher, higher, shutting

out the light till we were in almost perfect darkness, and then the

linnet came and perched on my shoulder, and whispered,

"She is fooling you! She is not a young girl at all; she is an old

witch! Put me in your waistcoat-pocket, and you will see what she

really is."

I did so, and the linnet ticked like a watch:

"She loves--not you--not you--not you. She loves--a wolf--a wolf--a

wolf."

And through a pathway of light in the field of flowers ran Louisa,

changed into a shrivelled old woman with gold boots on her feet, and

after her raced Steven Wolf, who, catching her, flung her high in the

air. I rushed with fury upon the monster, and he raised a great sheet

of bright brass, and crashed it on my head--

Bang! The din was enough to drive one crazy, and Louisa screaming at

the top of her voice as she spun round and round in the air, with her

golden boots--

Bang! Bang! Bang! I jumped out of bed in a fright, and ran to the

bedroom door and threw it open; and there I beheld old Anna sitting

in the passage outside, crying in her loudest voice that every bone

in her body was broken, while a lot of my best plates and dishes, all

in little pieces, lay around her. She was coming down-stairs with a

trayful of crockery in her arms when she tripped, and fell all the way

down. That was the end of my dream. I could not help laughing heartily

at it, which made old Anna cross-tempered the whole of the day.

After breakfast I thought over my interview with Louisa, and of the new

apprentice who would soon take up his abode with us. How his mother

would grieve at parting from him! It would never have done for me to

have married that trustful woman. She was so unworldly that she had

never even asked me whether Gideon was to receive any wages during the

seven years of his apprenticeship. It was an act of folly which would

have made me angry had she been my wife; but she had been another

man's, and he had broken her heart. That was as clear as the light

which, shining through my shop-windows, had exposed her gray hairs to

the eyes of one who, years ago, was ready to die for her. To think

that, at any time of his life, a man should be so simple as to have

such ideas!

So Gideon Wolf came to me, and, being duly apprenticed, lived with me

and learned my trade. Old Anna was against it from the first. I had

taken the important step without consulting her, and the moment she set

eyes on Gideon she prophesied that evil would come of his residence in

the house.

"Have not things gone on well enough to please you, Master Fink?" she

asked.

"They have always gone on well," I replied.

"Then you must be growing avaricious in your old age," she remarked.

"Old age has not come upon me yet, Anna," I said, "and if I had a grain

of avariciousness in my body I would pluck it out by the root."

Anna was as much a companion as a servant, and I had too great a

respect for her to be angry at anything she said.

"Why do you make the change, then, Master Fink?" I could not answer her

without deceiving her, so I merely shrugged my shoulders and smiled.

"Ah, you may smile," she continued, "and make light of it; but that

won't alter what's done. Tell me one thing, Master Fink."

"I will tell you many, Anna that is, as many as I can."

"When you have a watch in good going order, one that has not lost

or gained a minute for years, that you can depend upon as you can

depend upon the sun, is it the act of a good workman, out of simple

wilfulness, to take it to pieces and put it together again?"

"I understand your meaning, Anna, but rely upon me--I have a good

reason for what I have done. Let us not anticipate evil. Go down to

your kitchen, and prepare for me my favorite dinner, French beans

stewed sweet and sour. You have not your equal in that dish; you really

make me enjoy my life."

Before many months had passed I shared Anna's fears respecting

Gideon Wolf. Little by little it was made clear to me that he had a

thoroughly bad nature, that he was sly, greedy, envious, small-minded,

mean-spirited. Occasionally I sent his mother a small sum of money

which I said was due for services he had rendered; and you may be sure,

in addition to this, that I paid him fair wages. But had I known how he

would turn out, I would as soon have taken the son of the Arch Fiend

himself for my apprentice as the son of Louisa Wolf. Too late did I

discover that I had made a bad bargain.

Self-Doomed: A Novel · 第 4 / 13 章