The Children of the World Part 17

She was still silent. At last she timidly raised her eyes and gazed at him beseechingly. The look penetrated to his inmost soul.

"If I beg you to ask me no farther questions, to trust me as before--"

"I should not refuse your request," he answered dejectedly, "but I should take leave of you at once--never to return."

"And why?"

"Because I do not desire to visit in any house in the capacity of a guest, without knowing who is the head of it. I do not wish to expose myself to the possibility of having the master instead of the servant, appear before me someday, and hearing that it does not suit his pleasure that you--should receive gentlemen visitors."

She seemed to reflect a moment.

"You're right, my friend," she now answered. "I owe it to you to explain all this, or rather I owe it to myself. What must you think of me? But I will not relate this long and sorrowful story to-day, or here in this place. Besides, your visit has already been greatly prolonged; it will soon be dark. Come to the gold-fish pond in the Thiergarten, where the statue stands, at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning. It's very lonely there then; I've often sat under the trees with a book at that hour and not see three people pa.s.s. In that spot I will tell you all.

If the charm our game of hide and seek has had, vanishes as soon as you know your friend's very commonplace and prosaic story--you yourself have willed it to be so. But that you may have a pledge of my sincerity at once--take this unlucky note away with you and keep it for me until to-morrow. We will read it together--"

She rose and extended her hand, which, absorbed in gloomy thoughts, he grasped and held firmly in his own. "I need no pledge," he replied.

"Perhaps it would be best if I--"

"If I should bid you farewell forever," he was going to say. But he had not the courage to do so. He gazed into her eyes, which were again as unclouded, nay, which sparkled as brightly as ever, and mechanically he took the little note she held out to him. Then he bent over her hand and kissed it--long and pa.s.sionately; it was the first time he had ever pressed his lips to her cool, soft fingers.

"To-morrow!" said he. "Keep your promise!"

"And suppose that the skies should fall during the night," she answered smiling. "But sleep calmly. What I have to say to you, is only worth knowing because you are still ignorant of it. Oh! my friend, I fear you will yet regret having destroyed the spell by your question, if from to-morrow the fairy tale is ended and Cinderella again sits in the ashes!"

CHAPTER III.

When, soon after, Edwin returned home, pa.s.sed Christiane's door, behind which he heard loud, eager voices, and climbed the dark stairs, he was glad that neither Mohr's nor Franzelius' voice could be distinguished in the "tun." He was longing for an hour alone with his brother, and therefore the surprise was all the more unwelcome when he found Balder with his usual companions. Mohr was sitting opposite him before the chess board, which they had placed on one corner of the turning lathe, to take advantage of the last fading daylight. He had set a bottle of Rhine wine--a small stock of which he had stored in the cellar of the house, that he might not drink at the brothers' expense--on the window sill, and seemed so absorbed by the wine, the game, and the smoke of his cigarette, that he scarcely noticed Edwin's entrance. Franzelius was sitting in the middle of the room astride a chair on whose back he had clasped his broad hands, and rested his chin, while his gloomy eyes stared intently at the bust of Demosthenes on the book case. He, too, scarcely turned his head toward the new comer, and the greeting he vouchsafed him sounded more like the growl of a watch dog, than any human tone.

Edwin was no more disposed to talk. He stood behind his brother's chair a moment, stroked his thick hair several times, and then went to his desk, where he apparently began to read the newspapers. Once, however, he turned toward the chess players and said: "It would probably be better, Heinrich, if you would sacrifice your tobacco, which smells horribly, on the altar of friends.h.i.+p. The time for open windows is over, and Balder has already coughed three times."

Mohr instantly opened the window and tossed the cigarette into the courtyard.

Then all four were silent, until Balder rose saying: "A wooden king can't be expected to be checkmated more than five times. Besides, it's a hopeless task to play with you. You're a master of the art."

"Then I _am_ good for something!" laughed Mohr scornfully as he tossed the little pieces Balder had turned into the box. "Master of an art in which persons of the least brains are often the greatest virtuosos.

Nay, it is still a question whether a talent for chess is not a sort of disease, a hypertrophy of the power of conbination. You see, Edwin, I, for instance--if this organ were in a normal state--should have made more progress in my play. I plan the finest chess problems through five acts, and when I afterwards examine them narrowly, they are mere wooden figures, no living creatures. Basta! I vow not to touch knight or bishop for a month, until I have arranged my comedy."

He emptied his gla.s.s and then slowly poured the remainder of the wine from the bottle into it. "Good evening, Edwin," said he. "We've not had the pleasure of seeing you in the 'tun,' for a long time. Even to-day your thoughts seem to be far away--like our worthy philanthropist's, who has not spoken ten words since he's been here."

The printer rose from his seat with a violent jerk, pa.s.sed both hands through his bushy hair and said: "It's true: I'm perfectly aware that I've long been a tiresome guest here. Therefore--and for one other reason--I hope our _feelings_ are still the same--"

"What fancy have you taken into your head now?" said Edwin, still absorbed in his newspaper.

Balder had limped up to Franzelius and grasped his hand. "I was going to ask you, Reinhold," he said in an undertone, "to come some day in the morning; you will then find me alone, and I should like to say something about your last essay--"

The other turned away. "No," he muttered, "it's better so, wiser to put an end to this once for all. I'm glad Edwin is here too. I wanted to say it before, but you were so absorbed in the game: I shall take leave of you to-day--for an indefinite time--"

"Fools call it forever," quoted Mohr. "What devil has taken possession of you, Caius Franzelius? Do you want to found a colony of workmen among the red-skins on the Schultze--Delitz'schen principles? Or are you going to the Salt Lake of Utah, to disgust the Mormons with their immortality! Or--stop, now I have it--he can't endure the sight of a man who drinks Rhine wine, while the camels in the desert of Sahara often cannot get even muddy water."

The printer seemed about to make some angry reply. Edwin antic.i.p.ated him.

"You don't know what you are doing," said he. "If you part from old friends, you must have some good reasons for doing so, for they are wares that are not to be bought in every market. It would be kinder, Franzel, to inform us of these reasons. Who knows whether they're so well grounded, as you imagine."

"I thank you, Edwin," replied the other in a faltering voice. "I'm glad it's not a matter of entire indifference to you whether or not our intercourse is given up, little pleasure as it has afforded during the last few weeks. As for my reasons--"

"I'm quite ready to forsake this locality, if unrestrained intercourse is desired," said Mohr quietly, rising.

"There's nothing personal to be said," replied the gloomy visitor. "The fact that we do not understand each other--unpleasant as it often is to be the b.u.t.t of your frivolous jests--could not induce me to remain away from the 'tun' entirely. The matter is far more serious; to tell the whole story in a few words: I've decided to publish a newspaper, which is to acknowledge and defend my principles more plainly and openly than my fugitive sheets have hitherto done. It is to appear twice a week under the name of: 'The Tribune of the People.' I thank you for the nick-name, Mohr, which I have now made a t.i.tle of honor. The prospectus will break with the last remnants of superst.i.tion and traditional delusions, and as the rich have good reasons for preserving these traditions, since they stir up the water in which they want to fish, it will appeal expressly to the poor and miserable. I have recognized this as my life task, for which I am ready to make every sacrifice--even the hardest."

As he uttered these words he looked at Balder, but instantly averted his eyes and pretended to be searching for his cap.

The brothers were silent, but Mohr went up to him, laid both hands on his shoulders, and said: "Franzel, although you don't like me, you must allow me before these witnesses to declare my respect for you. I envy you such a life task, although I consider it perfect folly. At least change the t.i.tle. Your readers will hardly be sufficiently well versed in Roman history, to distinguish the difference between tribune and tribunal. Besides, why should we lose the pleasure of your society on that account? I will even offer to be a coworker: in case you, as I hope, issue a feuilleton, I should not be disinclined to write a few brilliant aphorisms--"

"Cease this jesting!" Edwin indignantly interrupted. "Franzel, what does this mean? Because you're going to establish a newspaper, must we clasp hands in an eternal farewell? You may do what you cannot leave undone. Are we our brother's keeper? Or have we hitherto found fault with all your sayings, to which we could not a.s.sent?"

"No," replied the printer, as he thrust his huge hands into his pockets. "But that's the very reason; you must be as safe in the future as you have been in the past, so far as it depends upon me.

Unfortunately, I'm only too well aware that we shall no longer agree as well on many subjects, as we have done hitherto. But I'm determined to burn my s.h.i.+ps; there shall be no more evasions, no half-way measures.

The people at the helm cannot endure them. There will be trouble, they will use their usual coa.r.s.e means--arrests, searching of houses, seizure of papers, watching for conspirators. I do not want to subject you--for I go nowhere else so often--"

"They can seal up all my papers," said Mohr dryly. "The mediocrity of talent, to which they all bear culpable witness, is at least not dangerous to the state. On the contrary, the less genius one possesses, the more useful he is as a tax-paying individual, a sheep in the flock."

Franzelius seized his cap.

"You will do us no harm," said Balder. "Let us take the risk. What could they find here? As I know Edwin--"

"I too would see them enter with the greatest composure," observed Edwin smiling. "No, Franzel, your fears are visionary so far as we are concerned. Can you not, in case of necessity, even swear that I have no tendencies toward socialism, but on the contrary am an incorrigible aristocrat, for which you have often reproached me?"

"And if they question you about your catechism, will you deny it? Will you deny that our principles are the same, and that we only differ in opinion as to whether the times are yet fully ripe for them? You are silent; now you see--"

"Scientific convictions are somewhat different from public speaking, and the police, thank G.o.d, no longer meddle with the freedom of thought of a private tutor of philosophy. But since we have come to this point--once more and, as it seems, for the last time: do you take me for a coward, Franzel?"

"You! How can you even--"

"Or do you not believe that I would be drawn and quartered, rather than deny my convictions? Well then, if you think me a man of whose friends.h.i.+p you have no cause to be ashamed, let me tell you this: what you are about to do, appears to me little more judicious, than if you wanted to set before an infant that had not yet cut its teeth, a roast chicken instead of its mother's milk or some of Liebig's preparations, with which it had hitherto appeased its hunger. If any one attempted to do that to my child, I should certainly forbid him the house, or at least endeavor to make his premature diet harmless."

"You talk so, because you don't know the people," Franzelius burst forth, "They are no longer children, their teeth are cut, and their eyes open; where this is not the case, we will help them, offer hard food that they may cut their teeth on it, instead of cooking the traditional children's porridge, perpetually lulling them to sleep with baby talk, when they are grown men, and the leading strings of guardians--"

"Don't get angry unnecessarily!" Edwin interrupted. "Who of us wishes to check the natural growth of the mind, instead of aiding it according to its powers? But what you have in view, is a forced, premature culture, your demagogical enthusiasm is a hot house, and that is why I repeat: make no useless sacrifices, which must not only ruin yourself, but many of your foster children. You cannot carve an Apollo from every block of wood; not every one who ties on a leather ap.r.o.n and earns his bread by the sweat of his brow, will be able to grasp the idea of the fall of man which a follower of Kant or Spinoza can form. Why, when there are so many crying wants of a coa.r.s.er nature to be satisfied, do you desire to create needs for our less gifted brothers? Why show them what they lack, when, after they have with difficulty learned to feel their needs, you can only give them such very doubtful a.s.sistance? You aim to produce an artificial thirst, and then all you can offer them to a.s.suage it, is a pear; for the fountains that flow for us, will, as matters now appear, long remain sealed to them."

"Edwin is right!" exclaimed Mohr, speaking for the first time without his sarcastic curl of the lip. "The people are asleep, dreaming all sorts of things, and Franzelius Gracchus goes about like Macbeth, and murders sleep. I've never understood how anybody can be so inhuman as to rouse a person who is slumbering. But that's the preaching of these humanitarians! You're just as selfish as the priests. For the sake of making the people see, you drum them out of bed at three o'clock in the morning."

"And suppose they are grateful to us for it? Suppose a nightmare has oppressed or bad dreams tormented them?" exclaimed the printer vehemently. "And that's just the case with the people. Their sleep under the night cap of superst.i.tion is no longer so sound and refres.h.i.+ng as it was a hundred years ago. All sorts of voices have startled them, and now they are slumbering in the dusk of morning and do not know whether it is time to rise. But why do I talk of this to you? You don't understand the times, you've never felt the pulse throbs of humanity stir your heart, with all your knowledge and good, intentions, you're--"

"Say no more, Franzel," whispered Balder. "You're excited; why should we utter angry words in the parting hour,--if you really intend to take leave of us? That we shall meet again, and before much time has pa.s.sed, I'm perfectly sure."

"You--I will never lose you!" murmured the deeply agitated enthusiast, in a tone audible only to Balder. "You're right," he added aloud. "It's sad enough to feel that our paths must diverge. We should not make the inevitable unnecessarily difficult. Farewell, Edwin. I could almost envy you the power of keeping to yourself what you consider an intellectual possession; for to be sure, 'he who is foolish enough not to guard his own heart'--but--it's useless: _alus inserviendo consumor_. Adieu, Mohr. With you--"