Joseph in the Snow, and The Clockmaker. In Three Volumes. Vol. II.

CHAPTER XV.
YOUNG HEARTS. – A BETROTHAL

Lenz stayed at home and worked incessantly. By the intervention of the balancemaker in Kunslingen, he had the good fortune to dispose of a smaller musical clock, that he had nearly finished. He worked with great eagerness at its completion, and was busy preparing for the new one that the Landlord of the "Lion" had as good as bespoken; he was so happy thus constantly occupied that he often thought – "I don't care to marry, and I cannot. How can I find room for thoughts of wife or children, when my heart and head are so full of my business?"

Pilgrim had resumed his old plans and designs for new models for clocks, and worked at them incessantly in the evening hours, for he could not spend his regular work hours in this manner. Thus the friends saw each other less frequently, and Lenz now no longer came on the evenings when the Choral Society practised singing.

Faller's wedding, however, brought Lenz once more into the village. His worthy companion never rested, till the founder of his happiness promised to go to church with him, in spite of his mourning.

The wedding was not numerous, and without guests or music, for Faller declared: – "When the time comes that I have anything to spare, I will then invite my friends, and the music I can make myself."

Lenz was obliged to hear himself much praised at the wedding for all he had done, and the old mother said: – "If you, God willing, soon marry, then I will wear your mother's Sunday clothes in church. I am not ashamed of wearing her things; on the contrary, everyone says that I ought to feel it a great honour."

"And what a capital bed I have now!" said Faller, and his strong, loud voice sounded almost musical, as it trembled with emotion: – "Oh, Lenz! I pray to God now oftener for you, than for myself. May God preserve you from all harm! but I can't help wishing that if ever you were to be in difficulty or danger, I might be the means of rescuing you. I should like to turn to the people in church and call out: – 'It is through the goodness of God that I stand here, but He assisted me through my friend, and I hope the good Lord will bless him for it, and his parents in heaven.' Lenz, you cannot fail to be happy, for you have made a whole family happy."

Honest, rough Faller could not say another word, but twirled his soldierly moustaches.

Lenz was an object of more respect and attention at the wedding, than even the young couple, and he was glad when it was time to go to church.

The Choral Society sang beautifully in church, but the two principal voices were wanting – that of Lenz and also of Faller.

Nearly the whole village, above all, the women and girls, were present at the wedding; those that were married were glad to hear again the exhortation to the newly wedded pair, and the unmarried wished to take a lesson how to behave when it came to their turn, which they fervently hoped might be soon. The women cried, and the girls glanced curiously round the church, and if Lenz had looked up, he would have met many eyes fixed on him.

After the ceremony was over Lenz left them, and went alone towards his home. At the hedge of the churchyard he was greeted by Kathrine, standing with a handsome young man, who, from his costume, seemed to be the son of a farmer in the neighbouring valley. She coloured as Lenz looked earnestly at her, and passed on. He next took off his hat in courteous greeting. The Doctor's two eldest daughters were walking on the road, and they wore neat laced boots, which their short dresses in the wet weather fully displayed.

"We really thought that you had gone on a journey," said Bertha, the boldest of the two.

"No; I have never left home," answered Lenz.

"Nor we either," continued Bertha. Lenz did not say a word.

"Are you engaged in some new great work?" asked Amanda.

"Both in new and old; in our calling work never comes to an end."

"Is it not very fatiguing, such incessant labour?" asked Amanda again.

"Oh! no; I don't know what I should do without it."

"Yes, indeed, clockmakers," said Bertha, playfully, "are like their own clocks, they always want winding up."

"And you are like the key that winds them;" answered Lenz, quickly.

He would have liked to have made some other reply, but could not think of one.

"Quite right, Herr Lenz, to pay her back in her own coin," said Amanda; "but our paths separate here, so now we must say good-bye."

"Perhaps Herr Lenz is going our way," said Bertha; "perhaps you are going to see Pilgrim?"

Lenz's heart beat; he wished to say yes, and that he meant to go to Pilgrim's; but involuntarily he said in a shy voice, "No, I am going home – Adieu!"

"Adieu!"

Lenz went up the hill breathing hard: he thought of turning back, and who knows what might come of it! he could still overtake them; but while thinking thus, he went on and on, and at last reached his own door, his heart still beating restlessly, and he felt as if he were taking refuge in his own house. Refuge! from what? He cannot say; but he was very restless all this day – he had never felt so uneasy or out of sorts.

Towards evening he dressed, and went to the village; he wished to call on Pilgrim and on the Doctor also, who had long since asked him to come. Pilgrim was not at home; and Lenz stood for some minutes at the Doctor's door without having courage to pull the bell. He walked up and down several times. Perhaps the Doctor may come out and speak to him, and take him into the house, but no one came. Don Bastian went past, and Lenz fled like a thief into the village: he was better there, and one house was sure to be open. The "Lion" Inn is a capital place of refuge.

Lenz was thankful that there was still a quiet resting place to be found in the world; chairs on which people can sit down, and tables on which you can put your hat and stick; and those who live here don't know what it means to have your heart beat as if it would choke you; they are calm and composed; and here comes the most cool and indifferent of them all, and welcomes Lenz kindly.

CHAPTER XVI.
A HEART IS WON

The Landlord seated himself beside Lenz, and was very fatherly. "You have got the money for your musical work?" asked he, abruptly.

"Yes," answered Lenz.

"You would be wise," began the Landlord again, "if you secured shares in the New Railway Loan: they will become very profitable soon. You have still the money in hard cash, I presume?"

"No; I had eight hundred over, and I lent three thousand gulden in one round sum to my neighbour, the bailiff. He required it to pay his redemption money."

"Really? Have you any good security, and what interest does he pay?"

"I have merely an acknowledgment, and he gives five per cent."

"The bailiff is a solid man, and five per cent. solid also; but, as I said before, if you wish to make money, my advice is at your service."

"I prefer keeping to what I understand; though, of course, I should be quite willing to follow your advice blindfold. I am pretty far advanced already with the new work that you intend to buy from me, and I believe it will be the best I have yet finished."

"Lenz, don't forget that I said nothing positive – an upright man goes no further than – "

"Not another syllable; I can never – "

"As I said, even with one's best friends, a man can never be too clear and precise. I hope there will be one day written on my tombstone, 'Here lies an honest and accurate man.'"

Lenz was quite delighted with the just and equitable character of the worthy Landlord; he was indeed pure gold.

Annele came in, saying, "By your leave," and seated herself at the table with her father and Lenz. In a short time the Landlord rose, and Lenz said: "Annele, you may well be proud of such a father – he is a man of a thousand. It does one good to converse with him; and just because he says little, every word is – what shall I say? – sound grain, unadulterated ore."

"True," said Annele; "and there is nothing more pleasing to a child than to hear her father spoken of in such a manner; and he deserves it, too. To be sure he is often cross and perverse, like all men."

"All men?" asked Lenz.

"Yes, all – I may say it to your face; you are one of the best of them, but I dare say you have your humours also; but we must have patience with them, I suppose."

"That is very good of you, Annele; I must say it pleases me exceedingly to hear you praise me, though I don't deserve it, I know. I can't tell you how often I feel angry with myself; I mismanage many things, and music is so constantly in my head, that I often only hear half what is said, or do half of what I ought to do. I am not so clever as many others, and yet I am not without talent; and I am passionate besides, and many things weigh on my heart that others take lightly enough on their shoulders; so I fear I shall never get the better of such brooding. My mother said to me a thousand times, 'Lenz, with all your goodness, it would not be always easy to live with you, unless a person were both very forbearing, and very fond of you.' And it is a proof of true love, and true patience, when a person can say: 'He is in one of his tantrums, but I know him, and what he really is.' Let me hold your hand – why do you draw it away?"

In the heat of his description of his own shortcomings, Lenz had seized Annele's hand, but he was not aware of it till she snatched it from him.

With a modest, sly glance, Annele said: "We are not alone in the room; there are still people here."

Lenz all at once felt burning hot, and then as cold as ice, and said: "Do not be offended, I did not mean it, and you know I did not, Annele; I never wished to be importunate; I hope you are not angry?"

"Not in the most remote degree. Angry? how can you say such a thing?"

"Then you feel kindly towards me?" and Lenz's face beamed with joy.

"For Heaven's sake," said Annele, leaning forward on the arm of Lenz's chair, "don't go on talking in that manner! What makes you do so? What does it mean? I always thought that I might speak to you like a brother. Alas! I have none."

"And I have no sister, nor, indeed, anyone to care for me."

"Everyone likes you."

"If, however, I have not the one I want to care for me, I have no one."

A long pause ensued, and Annele asked: "Have you heard that the bailiff's Kathrine is betrothed to a young man named Holdersepp, from the other side of the valley? They have just sent to us for the betrothal wine."

"So," said Lenz, "when I came out of church I saw her standing with some one. She will make a good farmer's wife; I wish her all happiness. Tell me, Annele, were you in church at the wedding today?"

"Yes, and I saw you there: your conduct to Faller must help you on the road to heaven."

"I should win it easily in that case. The Pastor did preach admirably; everyone present might profit by it, married and single. The Holy Scriptures are like music, – out of the hundreds and hundreds who listen, not one deprives his neighbour of any share of it – each one has it entire for himself."

"And I can tell you that I like to listen to you almost better than to our Pastor; with you everything seems to have a firm and clear foundation. I can't quite explain what I mean: – I often think it is a sad pity that you are only a clockmaker."

"Only a clockmaker! I rejoice at being one, for it is a fine calling. I could preach a sermon on that text. The whole world is a clock, wound up by God from all Eternity. There the stars revolve, and run their appointed course. Pilgrim once said that there was no clock in Paradise; certainly not, but from the hour when men were forced to work, they were obliged to divide the time; and just imagine what it would be to us if we no longer knew the different hours; we should be like children or lunatics."

"You can expound everything so well; I had never thought of that before."

This remark inspired Lenz with fresh eloquence.

"I am devoted to clockmaking; and if I cannot succeed with my musical timepieces, I can at least make the common clocks of the Black Forest: a sure mode of getting money. I can always have recourse to that. I earn much more by the musical instruments, but I cannot trust to them for a livelihood, for I can only make them when they are bespoke, and I might some fine day discover that I had nothing, for lovers of music are not to be met with every day, – and when I do leave my common clocks for my musical ones, I feel so happy that – "

"Your heart jumps for joy, – you feel as if a blessing rested on your labours."

"Oh! Annele, how clever and loveable you are! If I only knew – "

"Knew what – what then?"

There was so much warmth and tenderness in these simple words, that Lenz, flushed with emotion, stammered, —

"I cannot say it – if you don't know it I cannot say; Annele, I feel – "

"My children, all the people in the room are staring at you. What are you saying to each other?" said the Landlady, suddenly coming up to them. "Lenz, if you have anything confidential to say to Annele, I place entire trust in you, for you are a high principled man; I will put lights into the back parlour, and you can talk together there at your ease."

"Oh, no, mother!" exclaimed Annele, trembling, but the Landlady went hastily out of the room, and Annele hurried after her. Lenz sat still – the whole room seemed to go round with him; at last he rose and slipped out; the back parlour door was open, and he was alone now with Annele. She hid her face with her hands.

"Look at me," said he; "Annele! Now may I speak out? You see, Annele, I am a plain man – a very plain man, but – " putting his hand on his heart, he could scarcely go on, "if you really think that I am worthy of you, you could make me very happy."

"You are more worthy than any man in the whole world – you are only too good; you have no idea of the wickedness of the world."

"The world is not all evil, as you are in it. Now, tell me, is it also your wish, your honest wish? – Will you stand by me, and be my helper in joy and sorrow, and be good, and industrious, – and will you be my mother, my wife, and my all? Say yes – and I will be yours for life and death!"

"Yes – a thousand times, yes!" She sank into his arms.

"Mother, dear mother!" cried Lenz. The Landlady came in. "Forgive me," said he, "for my presumption!"

"You have nothing but good to expect from me," said the Landlady; "but, children, I have one thing to beg of you. Annele can tell you who always spoke well of you, and always said, 'Lenz is sure to do well, for his mother's blessing rests on his head.' But I entreat of you to keep quiet; you don't know my husband as I do. All his children are wound round his heartstrings, and he is always vexed when one is taken from him. God be praised! if this event comes to pass; we shall have one child in our native place, and not estranged from us like the others." At these words the Landlady wept bitterly, but continued, after violently blowing her nose. "My husband must know nothing of it just at present. Let me, my children, prepare him for it by degrees, and I know well how to do it, and when you ought to make your proposals to him in due form; don't return to this house till then, and bring your uncle with you, for it is only proper that you should pay him the respect, to ask him to represent your father. Hitherto, my children have always entered families of note; we are accustomed to observe the same forms as the gentry. Lenz, God has given me no son of my own, and I must honestly say I am rejoiced that you are to become my son. I have a great regard for my other sons-in-law, but they are too genteel and too high for me. Now go, Lenz, for my husband may come in at any moment, and then who knows what might happen? – but stop, take this: give it to him, Annele." She opened the double doors of the huge press, and gave Annele a gold coin, saying, "Look! this is what your godfather, our worthy minister, placed in your cradle – an ancient coin; so it is quite suitable for the purpose: but, no – you must first give her a pledge."

"I have nothing – but yes, I have. There, Annele! that is my watch, made by my deceased father in Switzerland, and he gave it to my mother; and on our marriage day, please God, I will give you something else of my mother's, which will please you. There, take the watch; hear how it ticks, – it has lain on my heart for many years. I only wish I could take out my heart, and entrust it to your faithful hands."

They mutually exchanged pledges; the Landlady, who must always put in her word, declared: "Yes! a heart and a watch are like each other, and love is the watchkey." She smiled at her own cleverness – as no one else did so. She rummaged in the press, and said – "See! here is the first frock Annele wore, and her first shoe." Lenz begged he might have them; she gave them to him, and began again. "But now, Lenz! you really must go; I can't allow you to stay a moment longer. Go through the kitchen, – there is my hand as a pledge. Good night, Lenz!"

"May Annele go with me a little way?"

"No! I cannot permit it; you must not be displeased, but that is just what I am – I mean very strict. I have brought up three daughters, and no one can say a word against one of them; that is my pride. If it be God's will you may see enough of each other yet, with our sanction and knowledge."

"Goodnight, Lenz!"

"Good night, Annele!"

"Once more – good night!"

"Good night, my precious treasure!"

"Good-bye, dear Lenz I sleep sound!"

"And you, too, a thousand times!"

"Now, come along; you have said 'good night' often enough!" said the mother laughing.

When Lenz was in the street, the whole world seemed turning round with him, and the stars in the sky dancing, "Annele, the daughter of the Landlord of the 'Lion' is mine!" He hurried home, – he must tell it without delay to Franzl, for she had praised Annele so highly. "Oh! how she will rejoice! If I could shout it out from house to house – " But when he had got to the top of the hill, and was close to his own house, he checked himself, saying – "No! I must not tell it to Franzl; not till it is all settled, or it would not long remain a secret: but I must tell it to somebody." He retraced his steps, and stood for some time opposite the "Lion" Inn. "Now, I stand here as a stranger; but tomorrow I hope to be at home there." At last he tore himself away, and proceeded to Pilgrim's house.

CHAPTER XVII.
A FRIEND'S OPINION

"Heaven be praised he is at home! I see lights in his room, and he is playing the guitar. Oh! my good Pilgrim! my dear Pilgrim! God keep me in life and health, and prevent me dying from joy! Oh! that my dearest mother had only lived to see this hour!"

Pilgrim sang and played loud, so he did not hear his friend coming upstairs. Lenz opened the door, and spreading his arms, exclaimed – "Rejoice with me, brother of my heart – I am so happy."

"What is it?"

"I am betrothed."

"To whom?"

"How can you ask? To her, – the most charming creature; and prudent, and clever as the day! Oh! Annele!"

"What Annele – Annele of the 'Lion'?"

"So you are surprised that she should accept me! I know I am not worthy of her, but I will try to deserve her. God is my witness that I will do my best; I will lay my head under her feet, and – " Lenz looking up at his mother's picture, said, "Good mother! dear loving mother! rejoice in the seventh heavens, for your son is happy."

He could not say another word, for tears choked his voice, and he knelt before the picture. Pilgrim went up to him, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Forgive me, dear Pilgrim," said Lenz. "I had resolved to be such a strong iron man! I am to have a wife who well deserves a strong-minded husband; but on this day I feel quite overcome – but for this day only. On the way here I thought to myself, I wish some one would come and impose on me a severe task – I don't know what – but something – something that I might put my whole heart in, and, however difficult, I would accomplish it. I will show that I deserve the happiness God has sent me.

"Be quiet, do be quiet; other men besides you have got wives, and there is no occasion to turn the world upside down on that account."

"Oh! if my mother had only lived to see this day!"

"If your mother had lived, Annele would not have accepted you. You did not please her till you were quite alone, and without any mother."

"Don't say that; how highly she honoured my mother!"

"She finds it easy enough to do that, as she is no longer in the world, and I tell you that you are only in the world for Annele, since you have no mother."

"You have not once even wished me joy yet."

"I wish you joy – I wish you much joy."

"Why do you say that twice over – why twice?"

"Oh! it only chanced so."

"No! you meant something by it"

"It is true, I did. I will tell you what it was tomorrow, but not today."

"Why tomorrow? I must hear it now, you must tell me now."

"Remember you are now in a state of intoxication; how can I speak soberly to you?"

"I am not intoxicated, I am perfectly sober."

"Very well, then tell me how has this been so quickly brought about?"

"I don't myself very well know; it came on me like an inspiration from heaven, and now it is plain enough to me, that for a long time past I have thought of nothing else."

"I suspected as much, but I did think you would do nothing without me."

"Nor will I; you must go with me tomorrow, to propose in due form on my behalf to her father."

"So! I am glad of that, for then I hope the affair will soon be at an end."

"What! do you wish to drive me crazy?"

"No need for that; as yet she is neither your betrothed, nor your wife, So I may speak freely. Lenz, it would be an indiscretion were you now to draw back, but only an indiscretion; but if you marry Annele, you will do wrong during your whole life. Lenz, she is no wife for you."

"You do not know her. You always teaze each other; but I know her inmost heart, and I know her to be thoroughly good and amiable."

"I don't know her, do you say? and yet I have eaten at least a bushel of salt with these people. I will tell you exactly how it is. Annele and her mother are very much alike, and for this very reason they can't bear each other, however loving they may appear before the world. All their talk is nothing but flimsy music. People eat and drink better when they have music; not a note proceeds from their hearts, – they have no hearts. I never could have believed that there were such people in the world, but it is so; they can talk away glibly about kindness, love, and pity, and even sometimes of religion, and of their Fatherland, – but all these are mere words; they have no serious thoughts, they don't care for these things, and firmly believe that all men are accustomed to converse in that manner; but the facts themselves never trouble them in the slightest degree. Annele herself has not a spark of real feeling, and I maintain that a person who has no heart can have no understanding, nor be capable of entering into the feelings of another, of sharing their joys and their sorrows, or yielding to their wishes. Annele, like her mother, has the knack of listening to others, and then cleverly repeating their words; and she has also a peculiar talent for depreciating and harshly censuring her neighbour, but in such a way that it is difficult to discern whether she is praising or blaming. Father, mother, and daughter, make a fine trio of frivolous music; Annele plays the first violin, the old woman the second, and the pompous old Landlord, the great bass; still I must say he is the best of the family. It is a well known fact, that it is only female bees that can sting – and how they can sting to be sure! The Landlord talks well of everyone, and can't bear to hear his wife and daughter abuse people – for no occupation is more grateful to them, than blighting the good name of any girl or married woman. The mother does so with a kind of hypocritical compassion, but Annele likes to sport with slander, as a cat does with a mouse. The burden of their song is always to show that they are best and cleverest, and they think this redounds to their credit.

"I have often reflected in what the most cruel barbarity in this world consists, and I feel convinced it is in malignity towards others, and yet it often assumes a very polite mask. Oh, Lenz! you don't know the key in which that house is set, and no knowledge of music will help you to know it. There is nothing there but scoffing and lies."

"Pilgrim, what a man must you be yourself! For the last eight years, you have daily frequented the house of the very people of whom you are speaking so harshly; you have eaten with them at the same table, and have been the best friends with them. What can I think of you?"

"That I go to an inn, and eat and drink and pay ready money. I pay my score every day, and then have no more to do with them."

"I cannot understand a person doing that."

"I believe you. I have paid dear enough for it, however; I would much rather be like you. It is no treat to know men as they really are. There are some, however, who – "

"I suppose you consider yourself one of the good."

"Not altogether; but I expected that you would fly out at me. I must bear it. Abuse me, do with me what you will, hack off my hand; I will beg my bread, and at least know that I have saved a friend. Give up Annele! I implore you to do so! You have not yet made your proposals to the Landlord of the 'Lion;' you are not yet bound."

"These are your worldly subterfuges! I am not so clever as you, and I have never mixed with the world like you, but I know what is right. I betrothed myself to Annele in her mother's presence, and I will keep my word. God grant I may get her from her father! And, now I say to you for the last time, I did not ask your advice, and I know well what I am doing."

"Hear me, Lenz. I shall only be too glad if I have been in error: but, no! My dear Lenz, for God's sake listen to me; it is still time. You cannot say that I ever tried to dissuade you from marrying."

"No, you never did."

"You are just the man to be a good husband, but I was a fool not to say to you sooner, that you ought to marry one of the Doctor's daughters."

"Do you think I would have gone to them and said: – 'My guardian, Pilgrim, desires his compliments, and bids me say that he thinks I ought to marry one of you: Amanda, if possible.' No, no; these young ladies are too high and refined for me."

"They are, indeed, refined; while Annele only pretends to be so. The fact is, you were shy with the Doctor's daughters, but not with Annele; you could go into the 'Lion,' without anyone asking you why you came there. Oh! I see it all! Annele talked to you about your sorrow, for she can talk on any subject, and that softened your heart. Annele wears a leather pocket in every one of her gowns, and her heart is nothing but leather, where she has always small coin ready to give every guest his change in full."

"You are committing a sin, a great sin!" said Lenz, his lip quivering from anger and grief; and to prove to Pilgrim how cruelly unjust he was towards Annele, he related to him how kindly and touchingly Annele had spoken to him, both about the death of his mother, and at the time when he sent away his clock; he had cherished every word like a revelation.

"My own money! my own coin!" cried Pilgrim. "She has plundered a beggar! What a confounded, stupid idiot I have been! Every syllable she said to you she picked up from my lips. I was such a fool as to say these very words before her, from time to time. I well deserve it all! but how could I possibly guess that she was to entrap you with my words? Oh! my poor coins!"

The two friends remained silent for a time. Pilgrim bit his lips till they bled, and Lenz shook his head incredulously; at last Pilgrim resumed the discussion by saying: – "Do you know Annele's principal reason for accepting you? Not from your tall figure nor your good heart; not for your property either! No, these are all very secondary considerations. Her real motive is to prevent one of the Doctor's daughters getting you. 'Aha! you shan't get him, but I shall!' Believe me, Annele is a creature that you cannot judge of; you cannot believe that there are people who have no real delight or happiness, unless their enjoyment makes some one else miserable; or unless they can triumph in the thought that they are envied for their riches, their beauty, or their good fortune. I never knew there were such people in the world till I knew Annele. My Lenz, don't you try to know anything further of her, for she will make you miserable. Why do you look so strangely at me, and never say a word? Attack me, do what you will, say what you choose to me, only give up Annele, for she is poison! I implore of you to renounce her. One very important point, too, I quite forgot: think of it, and God grant that you may not think of it too late; I do not wish to be a prophet of evil, but Annele will never live to be old."

"Ha, ha! I suppose you intend now to make out that she has bad health: her face is like the rose and the lily blended."

"That is not what I meant; but something very different: remember your mother; was there ever any one who was so pleasant to look at? because her kind heart was seen in her face; kindness for everyone, and her love for you, and anxiety about you: that makes an old face charming, and it does one's heart good to look at it. As for Annele, when she can no longer plait her hair in a coronet, and has lost her fresh complexion, and cannot show her white teeth when she laughs, what will remain? She has nothing to grow old on; she has no soul, she has only plausible speeches; no good heart, no good sense; all she can do is to scoff at others; when she is an old woman, she will be nothing but the devil's grandmother!"

Lenz pressed his teeth violently against his lips, and at last said: – "You have said enough; far too much, indeed! Not another word! But I must exact one thing from you, which is, that you are not to speak of her in such a way except to me, and even to me this day for the last time, and to no one else; no one! I love my Annele, and – and – you also; you may say what you will in your jealousy. I no longer wish that you should go with me when I make my offer. Fortunately these four walls alone have heard what has passed. Good night, Pilgrim!"