The Daltons Volume II Part 10

"Oh, then, tell me, Hanserl, what is he like? Is he young and frank-looking? Seems he one that should have won a maiden's heart so suddenly, that----that--"

"No, not that she could n't have written to her sister and asked for counsel, Fraulein," said Hans, continuing her sentence. "The Prince is a cold, austere man, proud to his equals, I believe, but familiar enough to such as me. I remember how he asked me of my life, where I came from, and how I lived. He seemed curious to hear about the train of thoughts suggested by living amid objects of such childish interest, and asked me, 'If I did not often fancy that this mock world around me was the real one?' 'You are right, Herr Prints,' said I; 'but, after all, here, at least, we are equals.' 'How so?' said he. 'That _your_ real world is as great a mockery as mine.' 'Thou are right, dwarf,' said he, thoughtfully, and fell a-musing. He should not have called me dwarf, for men know me as Hans Roeckle,--and this is your sister's husband!"

"Is he mild and gentle-mannered?" asked Nelly, eagerly.

"The great are always so, so far as I have seen; none but base metal rings loudly, maiden. It is part of their pride to counterfeit humility."

"And his features, Hans?"

"Like one of those portraits in the gallery at Wurtzburg. One who had pa.s.sions and a temper for a feudal age, and was condemned to the slavery of our civilization."

"He is much older than Kate?" asked she again.

"I have seen too few like him even to guess at his age; besides, men of his stamp begin life with old temperaments, and time wears them but little."

"Oh, Hanserl, this seems not to promise well. Kate's own nature is frank, generous, and impulsive; how will it consort with the cold traits of his?"

"She marries not for happiness, but for ambition, maiden. They who ascend the mountain-top to look down upon the scene below them, must not expect the sheltering softness of the valley at their feet. The Fraulein Kate is beautiful, and she would have the homage that is paid to beauty.

She has chosen her road in life; let us at least hope she knows how to tread it!"

There was a tone of almost sternness in Hanserl's manner that Nelly well knew boded deep and intense feeling, and she forebore to question him further for some time.

"You will leave this, then, Fraulein?" said he at last "You will quit the humble valley for the great world?"

"I know not, Hanserl, what my father may decide. Kate speaks of our joining her in Russia; but the long Journey in his infirm state, not to speak of other reasons, may prevent this. Shall I tell you of Frank?

Here is a long letter from him." And, almost without waiting for his reply, she read out the greater portion of the epistle.

"I like the old Feld!" cried Hans, enthusiastically. "He would teach the boy submission, and self-reliance, too,--lessons that, however wide apart they seem, go ever hand in hand; an old warrior that has trained his bold nature to habits of obedience in many a year of trial and injustice, unfriended and alone, with nothing but his stout heart and good sword to sustain him. I like that Feld, and would gladly pledge him in a gla.s.s of Steinberger!"

"And you shall, my little man," said Dalton, waking up, and catching the last words of Hanserl's speech. "The old Count was kind to Frank, and I 'll drink his health this night, with all the honors. Read him the letter, Nelly. Show him how old Stephen received the boy. That's blood for you!--a true Dalton!"

Hanserl stared from father to daughter, and back again, without speaking; while Nelly, blus.h.i.+ng deeply, held down her head, without a word.

"His letter to us was dry enough. But what matter for that? He never wrote a line,--maybe, did n't speak a word of English for upwards of forty years. You can't expect a man to have the 'elegant correspondent'

at his fingers' ends after that s.p.a.ce of time. But the heart!--that's the main point, Hans. The heart is in the right place. Read that bit over again, Nelly; I forget the words he said."

"Oh, no, papa. Hans has Just beard it all, from beginning to end; and you know we have so much to do. Here's Lady Hester's note, and here's one from the Prince, still unopened."

"Ay, to be sure. I 'm certain you 'll excuse me, Hans," said Dalton, putting on his spectacles, while he a.s.sumed a manner of condescending urbanity very puzzling to the poor dwarf. "Why, Nelly dear, this is French. Give me that note of Lady Hester's, and do you take this. Oh, by my conscience, I 'm no better off now! The devil such writing as this ever I seen! It's all 'm's' and 'w's' every bit of it You'll keep them both for the evening, my dear. Hans will dine with us, and I 'll go out to look for a bit of fish, and see if I can find another pleasant fellow to round off the table with us. G.o.d be with old Kilmurray M'Mahon, where I could have had twenty as easy as two, and each of them a good warrant for four bottles, besides! Is n't it a droll world?" muttered he, as he took down his hat and descended the stairs. "A good dinner, and only a cripple for company! Faix! I 'm like the chap in the Bible, that had to ask the beggars and the blaguards when he could n't get better." And with this very wise reflection, Peter Dalton hummed a Jig to himself as he took his way to the fish-market.

CHAPTER V. A HAPPY DAY FOR PETER DALTON

A youthful heir never experienced a more glorious burst of delight on the morning of his twenty-first birthday, than did Peter Dalton feel as he sauntered down the princ.i.p.al street of Baden. It was with a step almost elastic, and his head high, that he went along; not humbly returning the "Good-day" of the bowing shopkeeper, but condescendingly calling his worthy creditors--for such nearly all of them were--by their Christian names, he gave them to believe that he was still, as ever, their kind and generous patron.

There was scarcely a shop or a stall he did not linger beside for a minute or two. Everywhere there was something not only which he liked, but actually needed. Never did wants acc.u.mulate so rapidly! With a comprehensive grasp they extended to every branch of trade and merchandise,--ranging from jewelry to gin, and taking in all, from fur slippers to sausages.

His first visit was to Abel Kraus, the banker and moneylender,--a little den, which often before he had entered with a craven heart and a sinking spirit; for Abel was a shrewd old Israelite, and seemed to read the very schedule of a man's debts, in the wrinkles around his mouth. Dalton now unbarred the half door and stalked in, as if he would carry the place by storm.

The man of money was munching his breakfast of hard eggs and black bread,--the regulation full diet of misers in all Germany,--when Peter cavalierly touched his hat and sat down. Not a word did Abel speak.

No courtesies about the season or the weather, the funds or the money-market, were worth bestowing on so poor a client; and so he ate on, scarcely deigning even a glance towards him.

"When you 've done with the garlic, old boy, I 've some work for you,"

said Dalton, crossing his arms pretentiously.

"But what if I do not accept your work? What if I tell you that we shall have no more dealings together? The two last bills--"

"They'll be paid, Abel,--they'll be paid. Don't put yourself in a pa.s.sion. Times is improving,--Ireland 's looking up, man."

"I think she is," muttered the Jew, insolently; "she is looking up like the beggar that asks for alms yonder."

"Tear and ages!" cried Dalton, with a stroke of his fist upon the table that made every wooden bowl of gold and silver coin jump and ring again,--"tear and ages! take care what you say! By the soul in my body, if you say a syllable against the old country, I 'll smash every stick in the place, and your own bones, besides! Ye miserable ould heathen!

that has n't a thought above sweating a guinea,--how dare you do it?"

"Why do you come into my counting-house to insult me, saar? Why you come where no one ask you?"

"Is it waiting for an invitation I'd be, Abel? Is it expecting a card with ould Kraus's compliments?" said Dalton, laughing. "Sure, isn't the place open like the fish-market, or the ball-room, or the chapel, or any place of diversion? There, now; keep your temper, old boy. I tell ye, there's luck before ye! What d'ye think of that?" And, as he spoke, he drew forth one of the bills, and handed it across the counter; and then, after gloating, as it were, over the changed expression of the Jew's features, he handed a second, and a third.

"These are good papers, Herr von Dalton; no better! The exchange, too, is in your favor; we are giving--let me see--ten and three-eighths 'Convenzions-Gelt'."

"To the devil I fling your three-eighths!" cried Dalton. "I never forgot the old song at school that says, 'Fractions drives me mad.'"

"Ah, always droll,----always merry!" cackled out Abel. "How will you have these moneys?"

"In a bag,----a good strong canvas-bag!"

"Yes, to be sure, in a bag; but I was asking how you 'd have them. I mean, in what coin,--in what for 'Gelt.'"

"Oh, that's it!" cried Dalton. "Well, give me a little of everything.

Let me have 'Louis' to spend, and 'Gros-chen' to give the beggars.

Bank-notes, too, I like; one feels no regretting parting with the dirty paper that neither jingles nor s.h.i.+nes: and a few crown pieces, Abel; the ring of them on a table is like a bra.s.s band!"

"So you shall,--so you shall, Herr von Dalton. Ha, ha, ha! you are the only man ever make me laugh!"

"By my conscience, then, it's more than you deserve, Abel; for you've very often nearly made _me_ cry," said Dalton, with a little sigh over the past, as he recalled it to his memory.

The Jew did not either heed or hear the remark; for, having put away the remnant of his frugal breakfast, he now began a very intricate series of calculations respecting interest and exchange and commission, at which poor Dalton gazed in a most complete mystification.

"Fourteen hundred and sixty-three, at ten three-eighths,--less cost of commission; I will not charge you the one per cent--"

"Charge all that's fair, and no favor, old boy."

"I mean that I will not treat the Herr von Dalton like a stranger----"

"I was going to say, treat me like a Christian," said Dalton, laughing; "but maybe that's the most expensive thing going."

"Always droll,--always have his jest," cackled Abel. "Now there's an agio on gold, you pay five kreutzers for every Louis."