A FRUSTRATED PLAN.
Eric found great difficulty in keeping his pupil steadily at his
lessons, so completely was he taken up with the thought of the journey.
The day came for the journey to the convent; it was a bright day of
sunshine.
Eric requested that he might remain behind; Sonnenkamp immediately
agreed, adding kindly that it would probably be agreeable to Eric to
have a few quiet days alone. This considerateness appeared very
friendly to Eric, who returned it by saying that it should be his
endeavor not to estrange Roland from his family.
Pranken drove over with his sister, and Bella told Eric that Clodwig
sent a message, begging for his company during their absence. Eric
became thus aware, for the first time, that he had never been expected
to join the party; he immediately stifled the sensitive feelings
arising from this, as well as from some other occurrences. Roland alone
urged him pressingly to go with them, saying, unreservedly,--
"Manna will be very much vexed if you do not come; she ought to see you
too."
Sonnenkamp smiled oddly at this entreaty, and Pranken turned away to
conceal his features.
Roland took a most affectionate leave of Eric; it was the first time
that he was to be parted from him for hours and through the night: he
promised, meanwhile, to tell Manna much about him. Something unusual
must have been passing in the boy's mind, for just at the moment of
departure, he said to Eric,--
"You and the house, you don't go away from your place."
Eric pressed his hand warmly.
They drove to the steamboat in three carriages. Pranken with Frau
Ceres, Sonnenkamp with Fraeulein Perini and Bella, and, in the third
carriage, Roland and the servants.
They drove a short distance up the river to take the boat, and as they
afterwards shot quickly past the Villa, Eric was standing on the
beautiful, wooded hill, whence there was a view down the stream, where
the mountains seemed to meet to compel the river to spread out into a
lake. Roland waved his hat from the boat, and Eric answered the
greeting in the same way, saying to himself,--
"Farewell, boy dear to my heart."
Whoever understands the meaning of the fact that Eric could not send a
greeting into the distance, where it was inaudible, without speaking an
earnest word of love,--whoever understands this, has the key to the
depths of Eric's character.
The boat puffed by, the waves in its wake plashed for a while against
the shore, and tossed the pretty pleasure-boat up and down, then all
was still again. The steamboat shot down the stream, and the party on
board was very cheerful. Pranken occupied himself with special
attentions to Frau Ceres, who, wrapped in fine shawls, sat on the deck.
Roland had received permission to take Griffin with him. All on board
were struck by the handsome boy, and many expressed their admiration
aloud.
For a short distance the Wine-count and his son, the Wine-chevalier,
travelled with them. The old gentleman, a tall, distinguished-looking
man, wore his red ribbon in his button-hole; the young man was very
much pleased to meet Pranken there, and especially happy to be able to
salute Frau Bella.
Towards Sonnenkamp and his family both these old inhabitants had
hitherto borne themselves with some reserve; to-day they seemed to wish
to change this reserve for a more friendly manner, but Sonnenkamp held
back, not choosing that they should make advances to him now that they
saw him in a position of honor; and he was evidently relieved when they
left the steamer, at the second stopping-place, where there was a large
Water-cure establishment. On the landing stood the steward of the
prince's household with his invalid son, waiting for the two gentlemen.
Bella received a most respectful bow from his Excellency, and she told
Herr Sonnenkamp, as they went on their way, that it was almost a
settled matter, that the daughter of the rich wine-merchant was to
marry the invalid son of the steward.
The day was bright and clear; hardly a breath of wind blew upon the
swiftly-moving boat. Roland frequently overheard: some one whispering
half aloud to some passenger, newly come on board, "There is the rich
American, who is worth ten millions."
A special table was laid on deck for Sonnenkamp's party, and Joseph had
it ornamented with flowers and brightly-polished wine-coolers.
Sonnenkamp's servants, in their coffee-colored livery, waited on them.
At table Roland asked,--
"Father, is it true, that you are worth ten millions?"
"People have not yet counted my money," replied Sonnenkamp, smiling;
"at all events you will have enough to allow you to order such a dinner
as we have to-day."
The boy did not seem satisfied with this answer, and Sonnenkamp
added,--
"My son, one is rich only by comparison."
"Mark the words, rich only by comparison," repeated Pranken; "that's a
fine expression; it includes a whole balance-sheet."
Sonnenkamp smiled; he was always pleased when any one dwelt on an
expression of his with special emphasis.
"Ah, travelling is so pleasant, so jolly, if we only had Eric with us!"
cried Roland.
No one answered. The boy seemed unusually talkative, for as the
champagne was opened, and Bella proposed Manna's health, he said to
Pranken,--
"You ought to marry Manna."
The ladies gave an odd look at the two men; Roland had given utterance
to the wish of all. He became more and more the central object of the
conversation and the jesting, and more and more talkative and
extravagant; he uttered the wildest nonsense, and at last complied with
Pranken's request that he would imitate the candidate Knopf. He
smoothed his hair back, took snuff from his left hand, which he held
like a snuff-box, and constantly tapped; he suddenly assumed a
perfectly strange voice and expression, as, in a stiff, wooden manner,
he declaimed the fourth conjugation, and the precepts of Pythagoras,
with a mixture of all sorts of other things.
"Now can you mimic Herr Dournay?" asked Pranken.
Roland was struck dumb. A stony look came into his face, as if he had
seen some monster; then he grew suddenly calm, and looked at Pranken as
if he would annihilate him, saying,--
"I will never again imitate Candidate Knopf, that I vow from this day
forth."
The boy, who was excited by wine and by talking, became suddenly quiet,
and disappeared, so that the servants had to be sent in search of him.
He was found on the forward deck with his dog, great tears in his eyes;
he allowed himself to be led back to his friends without opposition,
but he continued silent.
The steamboat glided on and on; the vineyards glowed in the midday
sunshine, and soon it was said,--
"Only two more stops, then comes the convent."
Roland went back to his dog, and said,--
"Griffin, now we are going to Manna; aren't you glad?" It was still
high noon when they landed by the weeping-willows on the shore, and
entered the refreshing shade of the park which surrounded the convent.
The servants were left in a large inn on the other bank of the river.
No one was on the shore awaiting the travellers, although their coming
had been announced beforehand.
"Manna not here?" asked Sonnenkamp as he sprang ashore, and the fierce
look, which he generally knew how to conceal, came into his face.
Frau Ceres only turned her head towards him, and he became gentle and
mild.
"I only hope the good child is not sick," he added, in a tone which
would have suited a hermit doing penance.
They went to the convent, whose doors were closed; the church alone was
open, and a nun, with veiled face, was prostrate in prayer, while the
bright sunshine sparkled out of doors. The visitors, who had crossed
the threshold, drew quietly back; they rang at the convent door, and
the portress opened it. Herr Sonnenkamp inquired whether Fraeulein
Hermanna Sonnenkamp were well; the portress answered in the
affirmative, and added, that if they were her parents, the Superior
begged them to come to her in the parlor. Sonnenkamp asked Bella,
Pranken, and Fraeulein Perini to wait in the garden; he wished Roland to
stay with them, but the boy said,--
"No, I'm going with you."
His mother took his hand and spoke for the first time.
"Very well, you can stay with me."
Griffin remained outside. Roland and his parents were shown into the
presence of the Superior, who received them with a very friendly and
dignified bearing. She asked a sister who was with her to leave them
alone, and then requested the visitors to be seated. It was cool and
pleasant in the large room, where hung pictures of saints painted on a
gold background.
"What is the matter with our daughter?" asked Sonnenkamp at last,
breathing deeply.
"Your child, whom we may call our child also,--for we love her no less
than you do,--is quite well; she is generally yielding and patient too,
but sometimes she shows an incomprehensible self-will, amounting almost
to stubbornness."
A rapid flash from Sonnenkamp's eyes fell upon his wife, who looked at
him and moved her upper lip very slightly. The Superior did not notice
this, for while she spoke she either closed her eyes or kept them cast
down; she quietly continued,--
"Our dear Manna refuses to see her parents, unless they will promise
beforehand that she may remain with us at the convent through the
winter; she says that she does not yet feel herself strong enough to
enter the world."
"And you have granted her this condition?" asked Sonnenkamp, as he ran
his hand through his white neck-handkerchief, and loosened it.
"We have nothing to grant to her; you are her parents, and have
unconditional power over your child."
"Of course," burst out Sonnenkamp, "of course, if her thoughts are
influenced--but I beg your pardon, I interrupted you."
"By no means, I have finished; you have to decide whether you will
agree to the condition beforehand; you have full parental power. I will
call one of the sisters to conduct you to Manna's cell; it is not
locked. I have only performed the child's commission, now act according
to your own judgment."
"Yes, that I will do, and she shall not stay here an hour longer!"
"If her mother has any voice in the matter," began Frau Ceres.
Sonnenkamp looked at her as if some speechless piece of furniture had
spoken, and Frau Ceres continued, not to him, but to the Superior,--
"I declare as her mother that we will lay no compulsion upon her; I
grant her this condition."
Sonnenkamp started up and clutched the back of a chair; there was a
violent struggle within him, but suddenly he said, in a most gentle
tone,--
"Roland, go now to Herr von Pranken."
Roland was forced to leave the convent, his heart beating fast. There
was his sister in a room above; what was to happen to her? Why could he
not go to her, embrace and kiss her, and play with her long dark hair
as he used to do? He went out of doors, but not to Pranken; he entered
the open church, and there he knelt and prayed with deep fervor. He
could not have said for what he prayed, but he asked for peace and
beauty, and suddenly, as he looked up, he started back; there was the
great picture of St. Anthony of Padua, and, wonderful to say, this
picture resembled Eric,--the noble, beautiful face was Eric's.
The boy gazed long at it; at last he laid his head on his hands,
and--blessed power of youth!--he fell asleep.