Towards twelve his service at the barracks being over, Botho von
Rienaecker was walking along under the Lindens toward the Gate, simply
with the intention of filling up the time as well as he could until his
interview at Hiller's. Two or three picture shops were very welcome to
him in this interim. At Lepke's there were a couple of Oswald
Achenbach's in the show window, among them a street in Palermo, dirty
and sunny, and strikingly truthful as to life and color. "There are
things, then, about which one is never quite clear. So it is with these
Achenbach's. Until recently I always swore by Andreas; but when I see
something like this, I do not know that Oswald is not his equal or his
superior. In any case he is more brilliant and varied. But such things
as this I can only think to myself, for to say them before people would
be to lower the value of my 'Storm at Sea' by half, and quite
unnecessarily."
Thinking of these matters he stood for a time before Lepke's show
window and then walked across the Parisian Square to the Gate and the
path turning sharply to the left toward the Zoological Garden, until he
paused before Wolf's group of lions. Here he looked at the clock. "Half
past twelve. Then it is time." And so he turned and went back over the
same path towards the Lindens.
In front of the Redern Palace he saw Lieutenant von Wedell of the
Dragoon Guards coming towards him.
"Where are you going, Wedell?"
"To the club. And you?"
"To Hiller's."
"Aren't you rather early?"
"Yes, but what of it? I am to breakfast with an old uncle of mine, an
old Neumaerker who lives in an odd corner with 'Aldermann, Petermann and
Zimmermann'--all names that rhyme with man, but without connection or
obligation. By the way, he was once in your regiment, my Uncle, I mean.
To be sure it was long ago, about forty years. Baron Osten."
"From Wietzendorf?"
"The same."
"Oh, I know him, at least by name. There is some relationship. My
grandmother was an Osten. Is he the same who has the quarrel with
Bismarck?"
"The same. I tell you what, Wedell, you had better come too. The club
can wait and Pitt and Serge too; you can find them at three just as
well as at one. The old gentleman is still wild over the blue and gold
of the dragoons, and is enough of a Neumaerker to consider every Wedell
an acquisition."
"Very well, Rienaecker, but it is on your responsibility."
"With pleasure."
During this talk they had reached Hiller's, where the old Baron was
already standing by the glass door looking out, for it was a minute
after one. He made no comments, however, and was evidently overjoyed
when Botho presented "Lieutenant von Wedell."
"Your nephew ..."
"No excuses. Herr von Wedell, everyone who bears the name of Wedell is
welcome to me, and doubly and trebly so when wearing this coat. Come,
gentlemen, we will extricate ourselves from this melee of tables and
chairs, and concentrate in the rear as well as we can. It is not
Prussian to retreat, but here it does not matter." And therewith he
preceded his guests to choose a good place, and after looking into
several little private rooms, he decided on a rather large room, with
walls of some leather colored material, which was not very light, in
spite of the fact that it had a broad window in three parts, because
this looked out on a narrow and dark court. The table was already laid
for four, but in the twinkling of an eye the fourth cover was removed,
and while the two officers placed their side arms in the corner of the
window, the old Baron turned to the head waiter, who had followed at
some distance, and ordered a lobster and some white Burgundy. "But what
kind, Botho?"
"How would Chablis do?"
"Very well, Chablis, and fresh water. But not from the tap. I want it
cold in a carafe. And now, gentlemen, be seated: my dear Wedell, sit
here, and Botho there. If only we hadn't this heat, this dog-day
weather coming so early. Air, gentlemen, air. Your beautiful Berlin,
(which, so they tell me, grows more beautiful all the time, at least
those who know no better say so), your beautiful Berlin has everything
but air." And with these words he threw open the big window sash, and
sat so that he had the large middle opening directly opposite him.
The lobster had not yet come, but the Chablis was already on the table.
Old Baron Osten restlessly began to cut one of the rolls from the
basket quickly and skilfully into diagonal strips, merely for the sake
of having something to do. Then he laid down the knife again and
offered his hand to Wedell. "I am endlessly grateful to you, Herr von
Wedell, and it was a brilliant idea of Botho's to alienate your
affections from the club for a couple of hours. I take it as a good
omen, to have the privilege of meeting a Wedell immediately after my
arrival in Berlin."
And now he began to fill the glasses, because he could not control his
uneasiness any longer. He ordered a bottle of Clicquot to be set to
cool and then went on: "Really, dear Wedell, we are related; there are
no Wedells to whom we are not related, were it only through a bushel of
peas; we all have Neumaerk blood. And when I see the blue of my old
dragoons once more, my heart jumps right up in my mouth. Yes, Herr von
Wedell, old affection does not rust. But here comes the lobster....
Please bring me the big shears. The shears are always the best.... But,
as I was saying, old love does not grow rusty, nor the edge of the
blade either. And I wish to add, the Lord be praised. In those days we
still had old Dobeneck. Heavens, what a man he was! A man like a child.
But if things did not go well and would not work out properly, I
should have liked to see the man who could keep his face under old
Dobeneck's eye. He was a regular old East Prussian dating from the year
'13 and '14. We were afraid of him, but we loved him too. For he was
like a father. And, do you know, Herr von Wedell, who my riding master
was ...?"
At this point the champagne was brought in.
"My riding master was Manteuffel, the same to whom we owe everything
that the army, and victory with the army, has made of us."
Herr von Wedell bowed, while Botho said softly: "Surely, one may well
say so."
But that was not wise nor clever of Botho, as was soon manifest, for
the old Baron, who was already subject to congestion, turned red all
over his bald head and what little curly hair still remained on his
temples seemed to curl still tighter. "I don't understand you, Botho;
what do you mean by 'one may well say so,' that is the same as to say
'one might also not say so.' And I know, too, what all this points to.
It signifies that a certain officer of Cuirassiers from the reserves,
who, for the rest, held nothing in reserve, least of all revolutionary
measures, it signifies, I say, that a certain man from Halberstadt with
a sulphur-yellow collar, himself personally stormed St. Privat and
closed the great circle around Sedan. Botho, you ought not to come to
me with any such tale as that. He was a young barrister and worked for
the government at Potsdam, and what is more, under old Meding, who
never spoke well of him, as I know, and for that matter, he never
learned anything but how to write despatches. I am willing to grant him
that much, he does understand that, or in other words, he is a quill
driver. But it is not quill drivers who have made Prussia great. Was
the hero of Fehrbellin a quill driver? Was the hero of Leuthen a quill
driver? Was Bluecher a quill driver, or York? The power of the Prussian
pen is _here_! I cannot suffer this cult."
"But my dear Uncle ..."
"But, but, I will tolerate no buts. Believe me, Botho, it takes years
to settle such questions; I understand such things better. How is it
then? He tips over the ladder by which he has climbed, and even
suppresses the 'Kreuzzeitung,' and, to speak plainly, he ruins us; he
despises us, he tells us foolish things, and if he takes a notion to,
he denounces us for robbery or interception of documents and sends us
to the fortress. But why do I say fortress? The fortress is for decent
people; no, he sends us to the poor-house to pluck wool.... But air,
gentlemen, air. There is no air here. Damnable hole."
And he jumped up, and in addition to the middle window which was
already open, he flung wide the two side windows also, so that the
draught that passed through blew the curtains and the tablecloth about.
Then, sitting down again, he took a piece of ice from the champagne
cooler and passed it over his forehead.
"Ah," he went on, "this piece of ice is the best thing in the whole
breakfast.... And now tell me, Herr von Wedell, am I right or not?
Botho, with your hand on your heart, am I right? Is it not true that
one, as a member of the Maerkisch nobility, may talk oneself into a
charge of high treason simply through the pure indignation of a
nobleman? Such a man ... from one of our very finest families ... finer
than Bismarck's, and so many have fallen for the throne and for the
Hohenzollerns, that you could form a whole regimental company of them,
a company with helmets, and the Boitzenburger to command them. Yes, my
friends. And such an affront to such a family. And what for?
Interception of documents, indiscretion, betrayal of official secrets.
I should like to know if there is anything else left except child
murder and offences against morality, and it is actually strange that
they have not loaded those on also. But you gentlemen are not saying
any thing. Speak out, I beg you. Believe me, I can listen to other
opinions patiently; I am not like him; speak, Herr von Wedell, speak."
Wedell, whose embarrassment was increasing, sought for some soothing
and reconciling words: "Certainly, Herr Baron, it is as you say. But,
pardon me, at the time that the affair was decided, I heard many
express the opinion, and the words have remained in my memory, that the
weaker must give up all idea of crossing the path of the stronger, for
that is impossible in life just as in politics. Once for all it is so:
might is more than right."
"And there is no gainsaying that, no appeal?"
"Oh yes, Herr Baron. Under some circumstances an appeal is possible.
And, to be perfectly frank, I have known of cases where opposition was
justified. What weakness dare not venture, sincerity might, the
sincerity of belief, the courage of conviction. In such cases
resistance is not only a right but a duty. But who has this sincerity?
Had he ... But I will be silent, for I do not want to offend either
you, Herr Baron, or the family to whom we have reference. But you know,
even without my telling you, that he who had that audacity, had not
such sincerity of belief. He who is merely the weaker should dare
nothing, only the pure in heart should dare everything."
"Only the pure in heart should dare everything," repeated the old
Baron, with such a roguish expression, that it seemed doubtful whether
he was more impressed by the truth or by the untenability of the
thesis. "The pure in heart should dare everything. A capital saying
which I shall carry away with me. It will please my pastor, who
undertook a controversy with me last autumn and demanded a strip of my
land. Not for his own sake, the Lord forbid! but for the sake of
principle, and of posterity, for which reasons he ought not to yield.
The sly old fox. But the pure in heart should dare everything."
"Of course you would have to yield in the land quarrel with the
pastor," said Botho. "I knew Schoenemann long ago at Sellenthin's."
"Yes, he was a tutor there and knew no better than to shorten the
lesson hours and lengthen the recreation hours. And he could play
grace-hoops like a young marquis; really, it was a pleasure to watch
him. But now he has been seven years in orders and you would never know
the Schoenemann who used to pay court to the charming mistress of the
house. But I must admit this, he educated both the young ladies well,
especially your Katherine...."
Botho glanced timidly at his uncle, almost as if to beg him to be
discreet. But the old Baron, delighted to have seized upon so favorable
an opportunity to enter on his favorite theme, went on in exuberant and
ever-increasing good humor: "There, there, Botho. Discretion. Nonsense!
Wedell is from our region and must know the story just as well as
anyone else. Why should we keep silence about such things? You are
already as good as bound. And God knows, young man, when I pass the
young girls in review, you cannot find a better--teeth like pearls, and
she is always laughing so that you can see the whole row. A flaxen
blonde to tempt your kisses, and if I were only thirty years younger, I
declare ..."
Wedell, who noticed Botho's confusion, tried to come to his aid and
said: "The Sellenthin ladies are all very pleasing, the mother as well
as the daughters; last summer I met them in Norderney, and they were
charming, but I would prefer the second...."
"So much the better, Wedell. You will not come into any conflict and we
can celebrate a double wedding. And Schoenemann may be sure that if
Kluckhuhn, who is touchy like all old people, agrees, I will not only
put a spoke in his wheel, but I will give up the strip of parsonage
land to him without further ado if I can see such a wedding within the
year. You are rich, dear Wedell, and there is really no haste about
you. But look at our friend Botho. That he looks so well nourished is
no thanks to his sandy wastes, which, excepting a couple of meadows,
are really nothing but a nursery of young pines, and still less to his
eel pond. 'Eel pond,' sounds wonderful, you might almost say poetic.
But that is all. One cannot live on eels. I know you do not like to
hear about this, but so long as we are on the subject, I may as well
come out with it. How do matters stand, then? Your grandfather had the
timber cut down and your late father--a capital fellow, but I never saw
anyone play the man of affairs so poorly and so expensively too--your
late father, I say, divided up the five hundred acres of eastern
farming-land among the Jeseritz peasants, and there is not much good
land left, and the thirty thousand thalers are long since gone. If you
were alone, it might do, but you must share with your brother, and at
present the mamma, my sister Liebden, has the whole still in her hands,
an admirable woman, clever and skilful, but she does not err on the
saving side. Botho, what is the use of belonging to the Imperial
Cuirassiers and what is the use of having a rich cousin, who is only
waiting for you to come and seal and ratify by a formal proposal what
your parents had already agreed upon when you were still children? Why
consider longer? Listen, if I could go to your mother to-morrow on my
return and bring her the news: 'Dear Josephine, Botho consents;
everything is arranged,' listen, boy, that would be something for an
old uncle who means well by you to rejoice over. Speak to him, Wedell.
It is time that he should quit this bachelor life. Otherwise he will
squander his bit of property or get caught by some little bourgeoise.
Am I right? Naturally. Done! And we must drink to the happy event. But
not with these dregs...." And he rang the bell. "A bottle of Heidsieck.
The best brand."