Amadeus Voss submitted the following plan to Christian: to go to
Berlin, first as an unmatriculated student, and later to prepare
himself for the state examination in medicine.
Christian nodded approvingly, and added that he intended to go to
Berlin shortly too. Voss walked up and down in the room. Then he asked
brusquely: “What am I to live on? Am I to address envelopes? Or apply
for stipends? If you intend to withdraw your friendship and assistance,
say so frankly. I’ve learned to wade through the mud. The new kind
won’t offer more resistance than the old.”
Christian was thoroughly surprised. A week ago, in Holland, he had
given Amadeus ten thousand francs. “How much will you need?” he asked.
“Board, lodging, clothes, books....” Voss went over the items, and his
expression was that of one who formulates demands and uses the tone of
request only as a matter of courtesy. “I’ll be frugal.”
“I shall order two thousand marks a month to be sent you,” Christian
said, with an air of aversion. The impudent demand for money pained
him. Possession weighed upon him like a mountain. He could not get his
arms free nor lift his chest, and the weight grew heavier and heavier.
In a bowl of chrysolite on the table lay a scarf-pin with one large,
black pearl. Voss, whose hands always groped for some occupation, had
taken it up, and held it between his thumb and index finger against the
light. “Do you want the pin?” Christian asked. “Take it,” he persuaded
Amadeus, who was hesitating. “I really don’t care about it.”
Voss approached the mirror, and with a curious smile stuck the pin into
his cravat.
When Christian was left alone, he stood for a while quite lost in
thought. Then he sat down, and wrote to his manager at Christian’s
Rest. He wrote in his lanky script and his no less awkward style. “My
dear Herr Borkowski:--I have determined to sell Christian’s Rest,
together with all furnishings and objects of art, as well as the
park, woods, and farms. I herewith commission you to find a capable
and honest real estate dealer, who might telegraph me any favourable
offers. You know people of that sort, and need merely drive over
to Frankfort. Have the kindness to settle the matter as quietly as
possible. No advertisements are to appear in the press.”
Then he wrote a second letter to the manager of his racing stable at
Waldleiningen. To write this he had to do more violence to his heart
than the first had cost him, for he saw constantly fixed upon him
the gentle or spirited eyes of the noble animals. He wrote: “My dear
Herr Schaller:--I have determined to discontinue my racing stable.
The horses are to be sold at auction or quietly to fanciers. I should
prefer the latter method, and I suppose you share that feeling. Baron
Deidinger of Deidingshausen was at one time much interested in Columbus
and the mare Lovely. Inquire of him whether he wants them. Admirable
and Bride o’ the Wind could be offered either to Prince Pless or
Herr von Strathmann. Have my friend Denis Lay’s Excelsior sent to
Baden-Baden, and boarded temporarily in the stables of Count Treuberg.
I don’t wish him to remain at Waldleiningen alone.”
When he had sealed the letters, he sighed with relief. He rang, and
gave the letters to his valet. The latter had turned to go, when
Christian called him back. “I’m very sorry to have to give you notice,
Wilhelm,” he said. “I’m going to attend to myself hereafter.”
The man could not trust his ears. He had been with Christian for three
years, and was genuinely devoted to him.
“I’m sorry, but it’s necessary,” said Christian, looked past the man,
and had almost the same strange smile with which he had watched Amadeus
Voss at the mirror putting the black pearl pin into his cravat.