CHAPTER V.
THE GOOD COMRADE
The Major lived in a beautifully situated house in the vineyard of a rich vintner from the fortress, or rather, to use the proper expression, of a brother of the order, for the central point of the Major's life rested firmly, in Freemasonry, and he cherished it within his life and thought, as his holy of holies; and if men talked of the riddles of life, his face always said, – I see no mystery, all is clear to me; only come to us, we have an answer to everything.
The small house which the Major inhabited was attached to the large mansion; one side looked toward the highroad, and the other commanded a view of the river and the mountains beyond. The Major confined himself strictly to his little house, and his own special little garden with its arbor. He watched over the larger dwelling and its garden, like a castellan, but he never lived there, and often did not enter them for the many months during which they stood empty.
Eric found the Major in his little garden, smoking a long pipe and reading the newspaper, with a cup of cold coffee before him. An exceedingly neat-looking old lady, with a large white cap, was sitting opposite, engaged in darning stockings; she rose as soon as Eric entered the garden, and hardly waited to be presented. The Major touched his cap in military fashion, and took the long pipe from his mouth.
"Fräulein Milch, this is my comrade, Herr Doctor Dournay, lately Captain."
Fräulein Milch courtesied, took up her basket of stockings, and went into the house.
"She is good and sensible, always contented and cheerful; you will become better acquainted," said the Major, as she withdrew; "and she understands men, – no one better, – she looks them through and through. Sit down, comrade, you have come just at my pleasantest hour. You see, this is the way I live: I have nothing particular to do, but I get up early, – it prolongs life, – and every day I gain a victory over a lazy, effeminate fellow, who has to take a cold bath, and then go to walk; he often doesn't want to, but he has to do it. And then, you see, I come home, and sit here in the morning: – and here is a white cloth spread on the table, and before me stand a pot of coffee, good cream, a roll – butter I don't eat. I pour out my coffee, dip in the roll which is so good and crisp – I can still bite well, Fräulein Milch keeps my teeth in order – then at the second cup, I take my pipe and puff out the smoke over the world, and over the world's history, which the newspaper brings me every day. I still have good eyes, I can read without spectacles, and can hit a mark; and I can hear well, and my back is still good; I hold myself as straight as a recruit – and look you, comrade, I am the richest man in the world. And then at noon I have my soup – nobody makes soup like her – my bit of good roast meat, my pint of wine, my coffee – with four beans she makes better coffee than any one else can with a pound – and yet it has happened to me a thousand times to have to sing this song to the fellow sitting here: You are the most ungrateful fellow in the world, to be cross as you often are, and wish for this and that which you have not. Only look round you; see how nice and neat everything is, – good bread, a good arm-chair, a good pipe and so much good rest, – you are the happiest man in the world to have all this. Yes, my dear comrade, you may be deucedly learned – I beg pardon – I mean, you may be very learned – look you – I never studied, I never learned anything, I was a drummer – I'll tell you about it sometime – yes, comrade – what was I saying? ah, that's it, you know a thousand times more than I do, but one thing you can learn of me. Make the best of life; now's the time, be happy now, enjoy yourself now, this hour won't come back again. Don't always be thinking about to-morrow. Just draw a long breath, comrade – there, what sort of air is that? is there better anywhere? – and then we have our nice, clean clothes on! – Ah, thank the Builder of all the worlds! – Yes, comrade, if I had had any one, when I was your age, to tell me what I'm telling you – Pooh, pooh! – What an old talker I am – I'm glad you've come to see me! – Well, how do you get on? Are you really going to drill our boy? I think you are the right man to do it, you will bring him into line – you know, comrade, what that means – only a soldier can do that. Only a soldier can school men. Nothing but strict discipline! – I'll warrant, he'll come out right – he'll do well – Fräulein Milch has always said, 'He'll come out right, if he only falls into the right hands.' The school-masters are all of no use; Herr Knopf was very worthy and good-hearted, but he didn't hold the reins tight. Thank the Builder of all the worlds, now it's all right! – Thank you for coming to see me. If I can help you, remember that we are comrades. It's very fortunate that you have been a soldier. I have always wished – Fräulein Milch can testify that I've said a hundred times, none but a soldier will do! – Now let us make a soldier of Roland, a true soldier, he has courage, he only wants the training!"
"I should like," answered Eric, "if I really have the position – "
"Really have the position? There's no doubt about it, I tell you – Pooh, pooh; I'll wager something on that. But, I ask your pardon, I won't talk any more – what were you going to say, comrade?"
"I think we ought not to train him for any special calling; Roland must be a cultivated, wise, and good man, whatever his profession may prove to be – "
"Just so, just so – excellently said – that's right – the fellow has given me much anxiety! How foolish people are, to hanker after millions. When they get them, all they can do is to eat their fill and sleep eight hours, that's all any one can do. The chief point is – " here the Major lowered his voice, and raised his hand – "the chief point is, he must return to nature; that is all the world needs – to return to nature."
Eric luckily abstained from asking the Major what he precisely meant by this mysterious proposition, for the Major would, unfortunately, not have been able to tell him; but he was fond of the phrase, and always used it, leaving every one to find out the meaning for himself.
"To return to nature, everything is included in that," he repeated.
After a while he began: —
"Yes, what was I going to ask? – Tell me, did not you have a great deal to bear as a soldier, because you were a commoner and not a noble?"
Eric answered in the negative, and the Major stammered out, —
"Indeed, indeed – you – a liberally educated man, felt less of it. I asked for my discharge. I'll tell you about it sometime."
Eric mentioned that he had been at the priest's, and the Major said, —
"He is an excellent man, but I call for no aid of the ecclesiastics. You know I am a Freemason."
Eric assented, and the Major continued: "Whatever is good in me has its home in that; we will talk farther of it – I will be your god-father. Ah, how glad Herr Weidmann will be to know you."
And again, at the mention of Weidmann's name, it seemed as if a beautiful view of the highest mountains of the landscape was brought before the mind. The Major resumed: —
"But now as to the ecclesiastics. Look" – he drew his chair a little nearer – "look at my drum, it's all there in that – look you, I was a drummer – yes, smile away, if you like – look you, everybody says such a drum makes nothing but racket, and I tell them there's music in it, as beautiful as – I won't disparage any one – as beautiful as any other – look you, then, I say, – mark my words – then I say, 'I will not quarrel with you if you hear nothing but noise, but don't quarrel with me, if I hear something else.' Look you, I have thought it all over, everything else will be made by machinery, men are very clever, but drum and trumpet-signals can not be made by machinery, human hands and mouths are needed for that; I was a drummer, for example, I'll tell you about it. Look you, I know by the sound what sort of a heart a man has, when he beats a drum; where you, my brother, hear nothing but noise and confusion, I hear music and deep meaning. Therefore, for God's sake, no strife about religions; one is worth as much or as little as another, they only lead the march; but the main thing is, how every man marches for himself, how he has drilled himself, and what sort of a heart he has in his body."
Eric was amused by the eccentricity of this man, who had a deep earnestness and moral freedom peculiar to himself.
Standing his pipe near him, the Major asked, —
"Is there any human being in the world whom you hate, at the sight of whom the heart in your body gives a twist?"
Eric answered in the negative, and said that his father had always impressed it upon him, that nothing injured one's own soul like hatred; and that for his own sake, a man ought not to let such a feeling take root within him.
"That's the man for me! that's the man for me!" cried the Major. "Now we shall get on together. Whoever has had such a father is the man for me!"
He then told Eric that there was a man in the village whom he hated: he was the tax-collector, who wore the St. Helena medal given by the present Napoleon to the veterans, for the heroic deeds in which they had taken part in the subjugation of their fatherland. "And would you believe it!" exclaimed the Major, "the man has had himself painted with the St. Helena medal; the portrait hangs framed in his room of state, and under it, in a separate frame, the diploma signed by the French minister. I don't bow to the man, nor return his bow, nor sit down at the same table with him; he has a different principle of honor from, mine. And tell me, ought there not to be some way of punishing such men? I can only do it by showing my contempt; it is painful to me, but must I not do it?"
The old man looked much astonished when Eric represented to him that the man ought to be judged mildly, since vanity had great powers to mislead, and besides, many governments had been well pleased to have their subjects win the St. Helena medal, and the man, who was in the service of the State, was not to be sentenced without hearing.
"That's good! that's good!" cried the old Major, nodding frequently, according to his habit; "you are the right kind of teacher! I am seventy years old, that is, I am seventy-three now, and I've known many men, and let people say what they will, I have never known a bad man, one really bad. In passion, and stupidity, and pride, men do much that's wrong; but, good God! one ought to thank his heavenly Father that he isn't such as he might very often have become. Thank you; thank you: you have lifted the enemy from my neck; – yes, from my neck; he has sat there, heavy and – look, here comes the man himself!"
The collector was walking by the garden; the Major went to the hedge with many nods and gestures of his hand; he hoped, perhaps, that the man would utter the first greeting; but as this did not happen, he suddenly called out, with a voice like the explosion of a bomb, —
"Good-morning, Herr Collector!"
The man returned his salutation and went on. The old Major was entirely happy, and passed his hand several times over his heart, as if a stone or burden were removed from it. Fräulein Milch looked out of the window, and the Major asked her to come out, as he had something very good to tell her. She came, looking still neater than before, having put on a white apron, in which the ironed folds were still fresh. The Major told her that the collector was not to blame, for he had received the St. Helena medal only in obedience to the government.
They went together to the house, and the Major showed his guest the rooms where simple neatness reigned; then he looked at the barometer, and nodded, saying to himself, "Set fair."
Then he looked at the thermometer screwed up by the window, and wiped his forehead, as if he had not felt till then how hot it was.
A shot was heard in the distance, and the Major pointed out to Eric the direction whence the sound came, saying, —
"I can hear the gun-practice from the fortress. I find that the rifle-cannon have just the same sound as the smooth-bore. Ah, comrade, you must instruct me in the new art of war. I don't know anything about it, but when I hear them firing down there, all the soldier in me wakes up."
He asked Fräulein Milch to bring a bottle of wine, one of the very best. Fräulein Milch seemed to have it all ready; she brought bottle and glasses directly, but gave the Major a significant look, which he understood, and answered: —
"Don't be afraid; I know very well that I can't drink in the morning. Pray, captain, give me your cork-screw. I take you to be the right sort of man, and the right sort of man always has a cork-screw in his pocket."
Smiling, Eric handed him his knife, which was fitted with a cork-screw.
While the Major was opening the bottle, he said, —
"And another mark of a genuine man is, that he can whistle. Comrade, be so kind as to whistle once for me."
Laughter prevented Eric from drawing up his lips. The bottle was uncorked, and they drank to good comradeship. The Major said, —
"Perhaps we are in better spirits here, than our friend Sonnenkamp in his grand villa. But Herr captain, I say again, an elephant is happy, and a fly is happy too; only the elephant has a larger proboscis than the fly."
The Major laughed till he shook with delight at his comparison, and Eric found the laughter contagious, and as often as they looked at each other, the laughter began afresh.
"You show me the meaning of the proverb," cried Eric, "'a gnat may be taken for an elephant,' and in fact it is correct; not the size, not the mass, but the organism is the life."
"Just so, just so!" exclaimed the Major. "Fräulein Milch, come in again a moment."
Fräulein Milch, who had left the room, re-entered, and the Major continued, —
"Pray, captain, say that once more about the organism. That is the sort of thing for Fräulein Milch, for, look you, she studies much more than she chooses to let any one know. If you please, comrade, the organism once more. I can't tell it half so well."
What was Eric to do? He explained his figure again, and the laughter broke out anew.
Fräulein Milch recommended to Eric the school-master of the village, as a remarkably fine writer, and the Major cried, laughing, —
"Yes, comrade, Fräulein Milch is a living roll of honor for the whole region; if you want information about anyone, ask her. And for Heaven's sake, don't let the Countess Wolfsgarten give you any medicine. Fräulein Milch knows much more about it – and no one can apply leeches so well as she can."
Eric saw the good old woman's embarrassment, and began to praise her beautiful flowers, and thriving plants, which stood in the window. The Major asserted that she understood gardening perhaps even better than Herr Sonnenkamp, and if it were only known with what small means she raised her plants, she would get the first prize at the exhibition, instead of the gentlemen with their great forcing-houses.
Turning the conversation, Fräulein Milch said to Eric that it was the chief misfortune of Roland, the poor rich boy, that he had no real satisfaction.
"No real satisfaction?" laughed the Major; "just listen to that!"
"Yes," asserted Fräulein Milch, the ribbons and bows on her cap nodding assentingly as she spoke, "he has merely pleasure and amusements that money can buy, but they are not genuine; and any one who only drives through the world for pleasure, with nothing to do in it, seeks satisfaction in vain."
A gleam of pleasure from Eric's eyes rested on the good Fräulein, and at that moment a secret bond of union, a sense of mutual understanding, was formed between them.
Accompanied by both as far as the garden-gate, Eric left the house. When the door was opened, a brown and white spaniel jumped upon the Major.
"Halloo!" cried the Major, in a tone of mingled scolding and caress, "where have you been again, you disorderly vagabond, who can tell where? and here we've had a visitor; old as you are, you will never learn good behavior and regular habits. Shame on you – shame!"
So spoke the Major to his dog Laadi, well-known in all the country round; he kept a female dog, because the village dogs never fought with her.
As the Major left the garden with Eric, he said, —
"Look at these two posts, these closely-trimmed ash-trees. Several years ago I noticed that the one at the left got its leaves ten or eleven days before the one at the right. Now, once the frost came unexpectedly, and the leaves withered on the left-hand one, and it drooped all summer; since then it has been prudent, and lets the other get its leaves first, and then itself leaves out. Doesn't it seem as if trees had understanding? Yes, dear comrade, everything is better arranged in the world than we understand, and, look you, though I have a pension and nothing to do, I have so many things to keep in sight, that the day is often too short. Now, good-by, and remember that you can always feel at home with us."
And as Eric shook hands, he added: —
"I thank you, for now I have another man to hold dear, and that's the best thing in the world to keep one young and sound."
Eric had gone several steps, when the Major called to him to stop, and coming up to him, said: —
"Yes, as to Herr Sonnenkamp – do not be led astray, comrade. Men of the world either make an idol of a successful man, or they abuse him. Herr Sonnenkamp is somewhat rough outside, but he is good at heart; and, as to his past history, who is there who can feel satisfied with all his past life? can any man? certainly not I, and I don't know anyone who can. I have not always lived as I wish I had. But enough, you are wiser than I."
"I understand perfectly," replied Eric. "American life is an existence without a seventh day of rest; there is a continual working and striving to win money, nothing else. If men have led such a life for half a score of years, they lose the power of turning to anything else; they say to themselves that if they only had enough – ah, those who strive for gold never get enough – they say then they would devote themselves to nobler ends. If it were only still possible! I understand you, and wonder at Herr Sonnenkamp."
"Just so – just so," said the Major, "he must have dragged himself through a good deal of mud, as a gold-hunter, to get such a great property together. Yes, yes, I am easy – you are wiser than I. But now, just for the first time, the main question occurs to me – look at me, tell me honestly, is it true that you have been to see Fräulein Manna at the convent?"
"I have been at the convent, and saw Fräulein Manna, but without knowing her or speaking to her."
"And you didn't come to establish yourself in the house, in order to marry the daughter?"
Eric smiled, as he said in reply, how strangely this question came to him from every direction.
"Look you, comrade, put the maiden out of your thoughts, she is as good as betrothed to Baron Pranken – I would rather you should have her, but it can't be changed."
Eric at last got away, and went back toward the villa with cheerful thoughts. Good powers were working together to keep Roland constantly in a circle of thought and feeling, from which he might not deviate through his whole life.
He stopped before a wide-spreading walnut tree, and looked up smiling into its rich branches.
"Sonnenkamp is right," he said to himself; "the planting of trees and their growth depend upon the surrounding heights and the prevailing winds. There are nervous trees, which are killed by the blasts, and others which only strike root when they are blown this way and that by the wind. Is not the life of man such a plant? the men around it constitute its climatic zone."
Eric thought he was constantly getting a better insight into the influences which were helping, and those which were hindering, the true growth of his pupil.
How rich is the world! Up there at the castle sits the old count by his young wife's side, and creates for himself an ideal realm of thought, after a full and active life; – here sits the old Major with his housekeeper. How Bella would turn up her nose if she were compared with that housekeeper, and yet —
Suddenly Eric heard carriage wheels behind him, and a man's and a woman's voice called out to him.