BOOK IX
CHAPTER I.
ARRIVAL AT THE VICTORIA
A line of carriages was standing in front of the Hotel Victoria in the capital; multitudes of sparrows were fluttering about them while the drivers stood together in groups, or walked to and fro, bandying jests with one another, and beating their arms across their chest to keep off the cold. The sparrows quarreled together, and after picking up all the crumbs they could find, took their flight. The drivers had exhausted their jokes and lapsed into silence. What more could be said and done on a winter's afternoon in the snowy, deserted streets of the capital? Everything is as still as the blessed prince whose stone image stands on the great column, with a cap of snow on his head and snow epaulettes on his shoulders. The parade is over, the officials are sitting in their offices, and the shutters of the Casino are closed for the better enjoyment of the cards by lamp-light. There is a change of guards at Prince Leonhard's palace, over the way; the soldiers wear large cloaks, and carry pistols. The man released from duty whispers something, which seems to be of no great moment to the one who succeeds him. An official messenger carrying a bundle of papers comes along, meets a court-lackey wrapped in a long coat that almost touches the ground; exchanges a pinch of snuff with him, and passes on. Such is the life of a small capital on a winter's afternoon.
But now wide awake! there is something going on. A great stir began among the coachmen, and up came the courier Lootz, with a wagon load of trunks.
Now there was abundant material for conversation. It was fine to have this "Gold-nugget, the King of California," come to the capital.
"Run up to your father, the bell-ringer, and tell him to set all his bells going," cried one.
"Give me a drink that I may shout a good huzza," said another. "Now begins a merry winter for us. Gold-nugget will scatter more money than three princes, and seventeen counts, with seven barons into the bargain."
"Let me tell you something," chimed in a third. "Let's send a deputation to him when he arrives; he will do it, he is just the fellow for it. I've a plan."
"Out with your plan."
The man thus addressed, – a little humpback, with intelligent, cunning eyes, – kept his comrades in suspense for a while, and then said, —
"We will petition Herr Sonnenkamp to give every coachman a daily pint of wine. He will do it, you see if he doesn't. If I had seventy millions, I would do it too."
A broad-shouldered, somewhat disreputable-looking coachman said, —
"I have been a hotel-keeper myself; I know what that means. The landlord of the Victoria has got a winter guest who will keep the house warm, and the wheels well greased."
Within the hotel, meanwhile, were none but smiling faces. Even the handsome landlady was handsomer than ever to-day, as she took a final survey of the sumptuous suite of rooms on the first floor, and found that all was in order, only a covering here and there still remaining to be spread. The feet of the butlers, waiters, and maids, as they hurried to and fro, made no sound on the thick, soft carpets. The gorgeous silk furniture glistened and gleamed, as if grateful at being freed from its mourning wrappers, and allowed to show itself to the light.
Lootz was full of business; he seemed bent upon trying every kind of sitting-place; now one chair and now another, here a sofa and there a lounge, he ordered to be differently arranged. Even the beds he appeared disposed to test, but contented himself with pressing the springs up and down a little. One blue silk boudoir, that opened on a charming balcony, he re-arranged entirely with great skill and excellent taste.
All was at last ready.
When evening came on, the whole long suite of rooms was illuminated; all the burners in the chandeliers, on the tables, and on the mantles being lighted. The entrance hall was decked with flowers. Now they might come.
The head-butler, with a cigar in his mouth, stepped into the streets and surveyed the row of windows with great satisfaction; but with still greater, did he look across the streets at the residence of the Crown-prince, where all was dark and deserted; how jealous they will be there!
A carriage drove up full of the servants of the establishment, men and women, then another, in which were Eric and Roland, and finally appeared a coach drawn by four horses. Bertram drew up at the door, and out stepped Herr Sonnenkamp followed by Fräulein Perini, and lastly by Frau Ceres, enveloped in the costliest furs.
The coachmen before the house forgot their agreement, and raised no cheers for Sonnenkamp. Amidst utter silence he and his family entered the vestibule, where the bearded porter in a laced coat and broad-brimmed hat presented his, silver-headed cane. He stood motionless as a statue; only his eyes sparkled. His face assumed a satisfied expression as they ascended the warmed, lighted, and flower-hung stair-case. Frau Ceres was not in good humor, having slept almost the whole way; she sat down before the open grate, and consented after a while to have her furs taken off.
Sonnenkamp inspected all the rooms, saying, when he came to those intended for Roland and Eric, —
"All the comforts of this world have their price; those who have nothing must turn coachmen, and freeze down there, waiting for a passenger."
He returned to, his wife's boudoir, where Frau Ceres was still sitting motionless on a luxurious seat before the fire.
"What shall we do to-day?" she asked languidly.
"There is still time to go to the theatre."
"Dress myself over again? I won't."
Here, happily, the Cabinetsräthin was announced.
She was greeted with words of welcome, and very welcome she was. She apologized for not having been on the spot to receive her dear friends and neighbors upon their arrival, as she had intended, but a visit from Countess Graben had detained her. They thanked her, and were enchanted at her obliging politeness.
Eric and Roland were summoned to receive the Cadet, who had come also.
"Where is your mother?" inquired the Cabinetsräthin. "She is coming presently, I hope?"
Eric did not answer, and Sonnenkamp quietly interposed, saying that the Frau Professorin was unwilling to give up her country-life.
"That will cause general regret," returned the Cabinetsräthin, smiling as if she were saying something very amusing. "All the beau-monde are depending upon having this amiable, witty, universally esteemed lady another season among them."
"She must come," said Frau Ceres.
Sonnenkamp was sorely vexed. Did the whole glory of his house depend upon the esteem in which this woman was held?
His displeasure was increased by the lady's adding in a confidential tone, —
"The accomplishment of our beautiful and noble plan will be much hindered and delayed by the absence of the Frau Professorin, née von Burgholz," as she always took pains to add. Herr Sonnenkamp would hardly be able to draw the best society to his house, she thought, without the lady's presence, adding, with what she meant for an expression of great modesty, that she should spare no exertions on her own part, but that she could not accomplish nearly as much as the Frau Professorin née von Burgholz.
The numerous lights in the great drawing-room appeared to Sonnenkamp's eyes to burn less brightly; he had sufficient self-control, however, not to betray the extent of his vexation.
The Cadet proposed that Roland should take part in a quadrille, which was to be performed on horseback by the first nobles of the court, towards the end of the month; in the royal riding-ring he could find a place as squire among the other citizen cadets, and engage in some of the evolutions.
Roland was delighted at the idea, but Herr Sonnenkamp cut the matter short by saying, —
"No! you will take no part."
He did not give any reason; there was no need to say that he did not choose to have his son make his first appearance among the common people admitted on sufferance.
The Cabinetsräthin had plenty of court news to tell, such as who had already given entertainments, and whose balls were still to come off, besides many a piquant bit of gossip, only half told on account of the presence of the children. The betrothal of the eldest son of Herr von Endlich, whose superb house was so famous, was soon to be celebrated, though there was reason to fear that tidings of death would soon be received from Madeira, whither the young pair had gone who were married in the summer.
The Cadet invited Roland to go with him to the theatre that evening, to see a grand ballet.
Eric looked in embarrassment at Sonnenkamp, who however said, —
"Certainly; go, Roland."
For the first time Eric saw his pupil led away from him, and taken to a place of entertainment, among a class of people, whither he could not accompany him. His heart trembled.
Roland had asked that Eric might go too, but the Cadet explained that there were no more places to be had; it was with great difficulty that he had been able to secure one for his friend. So Roland departed, saying to Eric as he went, —
"I shall come back to you as soon as it is over."
Eric became more tranquil. He could not prevent Roland's falling into company, and receiving impressions, which threatened the subversion of all his noble tendencies. He could only trust that his will and his conscience might be strong enough to withstand the danger.
Half with pride and half with regret, the Cabinetsräthin told of her son's precocity and cunning in the pursuit of adventures, and lamented almost in the same breath that Manna should be passing this brilliant season in the solitude of the convent; it would have been so pleasant for her, together with Frau Ceres, to introduce such a lovely girl into society.
Sonnenkamp replied that next winter would be time enough for that.
CHAPTER II.
THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE CAPITAL
Eric soon withdrew; he went to his chamber, but found no rest. Here he was, in the city where he had been born and brought up, living in a strange hotel, and in the service of a stranger. He quickly fought down these reflections and the weakness they engendered, and wrote a letter to his mother announcing their arrival, and begging her to let no persuasions induce her to come to the capital. He took the letter to the post himself, and spent some time in wandering through the quiet, deserted streets of the little capital. He knew every house in them. Here and there lived some companion of his youth, some family friends; what relations he should hold to them now he could not tell.
He passed the great building where the antique relics were kept, and for a moment allowed himself to fancy what his position would have been, if he had received the post of director here.
He walked restlessly to and fro, and finally entered a beer-house, took his place in a corner, and listened to the talk of the men, who, with long pipes in their mouths, were laughing at each other's poor jokes, and discussing matters of all kinds.
His attention was roused by the mention of Sonnenkamp's name; a stout, red-faced man was saying, —
"I must begin now to take my very best meat to the Victoria, for Herr Sonnenkamp knows what is good."
A printer whom Eric recognized said, "Our editor, Professor Crutius, declares that he knows Herr Sonnenkamp, but he isn't willing to tell us anything about him."
Eric's interest was still further excited. The men went on to tell of the immense sum daily paid to the landlord of the Victoria, then of Sonnenkamp's reported purchase of the Rabenecke palace, and of his admission to the ranks of the nobility as being a thing as good as settled. Here some remarks were made, in too low a tone for Eric to catch, which raised a general laugh.
"I call you to witness," said a stout man whom Eric recognized as a flour-dealer and baker, "that I say now this Herr Sonnenkamp is sent on a secret mission. The young nobles in the South want an emperor, and this Herr Sonnenkamp's designs to aim higher, perhaps, than any of us imagine."
"Then you can go with him and be court-baker," said one, whose rejoinder was received with a burst of laughter.
"What's that to us?" said another; "the man brings plenty of money into the country. If a hundred of them came, I don't care what they are after, as long as they bring us their money."
The speaker was a short, round-bodied little man with a great meerschaum pipe. He emptied his covered glass as he spoke, and called out to the bar-maid, —
"Bring me a fresh one; I have deserved it, for I am the cleverest of the lot."
Eric slipped out of the room, glad not to have been recognized.
At the door he received a friendly greeting from a young man whom he had no recollection of having seen before, but who recognized him as one of the singers at the musical festival. He was a teacher in the scientific school in the capital, and announced to Eric that he had been proposed to the school-teachers' union as an honorary member.
Eric thanked him and passed on; meeting in the street a great stream of people and carriages coming from the theatre; he hurried to the hotel, that Roland might find him there on his return, and happily arrived before his pupil. He waited in his room, but no Roland came; he went to the drawing-room, but he was not there; on the contrary, he was himself asked if Roland had not yet returned.
The Cabinetsräthin observed, with a smile, that they need feel no uneasiness, for Roland was with Cuno, and of course enjoying himself. She expressed her regrets that she too must now take leave of the company, and, drawing Sonnenkamp into the embrasure of a window, presented him with an Almanach de Gotha for the new year, a book which, as she gracefully remarked, should henceforth never appear without the name of Sonnenkamp being in it; and she bound herself from this day forth to pay him taxes in the shape of this canonical book, to be delivered to him yearly as long as she lived.
Sonnenkamp was duly grateful, and escorted the lady to her carriage.
On returning to the drawing-room, he said to Eric: —
"I had supposed you would have made Roland more worthy of confidence; in spite of his promise, he has not come home."
Eric was tempted to answer that it was the father, not he, who on this very first evening, when the boy was hardly out of the carriage, had given him permission to go his own way. He restrained himself, however; any discussion would be useless.
"I cannot go to bed till he comes," complained Frau Ceres.
"Have you any idea where we can look for him?" asked Sonnenkamp of Eric.
"It is not necessary, for here he is," returned Eric.
Roland entered.
His mother began to complain and his father to scold, because he had not kept his word.
"I deserve neither complaints nor reproaches," said Roland. "I had great difficulty in getting away from the company at the door of the restaurant whither I accompanied them, but would not go in."
All was made smooth again, and they went to bed.
"Why do you not ask me how I enjoyed the theatre?" asked Roland when he had entered his room.
"I preferred waiting for you to tell me."
"It was very fine; there were beautiful girls, and Cuno knew them all by name, and had some story to tell of every one; stupid stories they mostly were. For hours we had nothing but leaping and bending this way and that, without a word being spoken. Suddenly, I began to wonder what Benjamin Franklin would say if he could see it, and that spoiled all my pleasure. Cuno called me a snob, and I let it pass quietly, but he added something else which came near causing a duel."
"May I know what it was he added?"
"No; it was about you, but – of course you would not care for it. You are not anxious that every one should understand you, and whatever the world may say-"
"Say no more, dear Roland, I beg; I don't care to know what people say about me; it only burdens the mind without helping us to be better. But you have borne yourself well, and may sleep with an easy conscience. This has been your first experience under fire, and will not be your last. Only keep true to yourself and to me. Good-night."
Eric lay down with happy thoughts, and with happy thoughts Roland fell asleep.
CHAPTER III.
THE GREAT WORLD IN THE LITTLE CAPITAL
While Sonnenkamp, the next morning, was looking through the court calendar and making a list of the visits that were first to be paid, Eric, also, was arranging his programme. He determined to free his mind from every personal disquietude, as the only means of being able to devote himself to the new difficulties of his task.
In a large close carriage, made half of glass, with two servants in fur coats sitting on the box, and the footman behind, Sonnenkamp and Frau Ceres drove about the city. The question whether Roland's cards should be left too had been carefully considered, and it was finally decided in the affirmative.
Eric used the day's leave of absence he had obtained in visiting some of his old comrades, and spending some time with them at the military club. He was more cordially greeted than he expected, and the men he met were better and sounder than he remembered them. Of course the talk was of the newly-established gaming-table, of horses and ballet-dancers, but there was a prevailing seriousness among many of his comrades. The great excitements of the day, which were affecting all minds, were not without their results even in this military club. One young man, who sat in the window with Eric, went so far as to envy him for having struck out for himself an independent career.
Eric's mind grew quite light and tranquil after visiting a few more of his friends, and he returned to find the Sonnenkamp family in good humor also.
On this first day, the Cabinetsrath, with his wife and two daughters, was invited to dinner. The dresses had come from Paris, and were already the town-talk of the little capital, the custom-house officials having told their wives, and they their relations, that dresses had been received from Paris finer than any in the wardrobe of the Queen herself. They were duly admired by the ladies, and everything was in the best possible train. Sonnenkamp had his party at whist in the fashionable club-house, to which the Cabinetsrath introduced him; and as they rose from table, Bella and her husband were announced as the first visitors.
Bella's gait, manner, and dress always suggested not only invisible servants in livery to appear, but a carriage and horses besides; she always looked as if she had just left her carriage, or was about to enter it; it was so in the drawing-room, and so in the street. She was extremely animated, and only to Eric regretted that his mother still continued in the country. She told Sonnenkamp that Otto would arrive in a few days, with the Russian prince, for the two men were to take part in a French comedy that was to be performed at court, in which she also was to play. She made Sonnenkamp give her a considerable sum of money for the purchase of articles to be sold for the benefit of the poor, at a fair held at the beginning of the next month, by the first ladies of the capital. Sonnenkamp promised further to place at her disposal some beautiful plants from his greenhouses.
Clodwig was tired, and stipulated beforehand that little should be expected from him in the way of society. The representatives were assembled in both houses. Prince Leonhard, the brother of the reigning Sovereign, a man who had seen the world for himself, and had even travelled in America, had been chosen President of the Chamber of Lords, Clodwig being Vice-President, but having to perform most of the duties of actual President.
While they were still together, they had the pleasure of receiving an invitation from Herr von Endlich to a great ball. Bella could not help repeating what was said by the scandal-mongers, that Herr von Endlich gave his great entertainment thus early, lest the daily expected news of his son-in-law's death should prevent his giving it altogether. This was just the height of the season; they had come to town quite early enough. It was said that the Court would be present at Herr von Endlich's ball; at least the brother of the reigning Prince might confidently be expected, for he maintained relations with society quite independent of the palace. Bella was also called upon to admire the Parisian toilettes in the adjoining room, and advised Frau Ceres to reserve the handsomest for the entertainment Herr Sonnenkamp himself would give.
The evening at Herr von Endlich's was very successful. The nobility, notwithstanding the wound inflicted upon their pride by the Sovereign's inconsiderate raising of the rich wine-merchant to their ranks, were largely represented. It was a singular step for him to have taken, very unlike the almost priestly solemnity with which he usually regarded all affairs of court etiquette. He perceived his mistake, and liked to be made to forget it. A sure way of winning his favor was to show cordiality to Herr von Endlich. So it happened that the company assembled at the house of this newly made noble, was the most brilliant of the season.
Herr von Endlich was shrewd enough to invite some distinguished members of the House of Deputies, and even two of the extreme opposition, not, however, without first having made sure that the Court would take no offence at such a step. The Court itself was not present, except in the person of Prince Leonhard. He had made no secret of his disapproval of this conferring of new titles, but as a subject of his brother, he appeared at the ball, and conversed freely with the members of the opposition, especially with Herr Weidmann, the President of the House of Deputies.
Although the Prince represented his brother, and always spoke of him with great deference, he was not averse to hearing such remarks as, "Ah, if you were the ruler, there would be a different order of things; then we should have a model country." In court circles a secret compassion was felt for Prince Leonhard, because custom made it desirable, in fact even necessary, for him to affect liberal views, to popularize himself, as the aristocracy called it. He encouraged arts and sciences, and even political movements; the journal which was understood to be secretly supported by him slightly favored the opposition.
Prince Leonhard made the circuit of the rooms arm in arm with Clodwig, which was no slight mark of distinction. The Count must have mentioned Eric to the Prince, for he called him from his place behind the first row of those who were waiting to be saluted, and said aloud: —
"I am glad to see you again, my dear Dournay; you have become a great scholar, I hear. Well, well, you always had considerable talent that way; you showed it even as a boy. How is your honored mother?"
Eric expressed his thanks, with a tone of happy relief that the first meeting with Prince Leonhard had passed off so pleasantly. No trifling compliment was paid him by the Prince, who added: —
"I should be glad if you would bring Herr Sonnenkamp to me; where is he?"
Sonnenkamp, unhappily, was not to be found. By the time he was summoned from the smoking-room it was too late; the Prince was already opening the ball with Bella.
Herr von Endlich was beaming with happiness, but Sonnenkamp's face wore a singular expression when he learned that the Prince had desired Captain Dournay to present him. A still more striking contrast existed between the dispositions of the two men. The Wine-count possessed a confident, self-satisfied manner, with sufficient tact, however, to prevent him from giving offence. His every word and motion plainly implied his superior knowledge on all points. He could enter into conversation with men of the most dissimilar pursuits, and make a good appearance in the eyes of all. The fact of his being financier, political economist, agriculturist, merchant and ship-owner, and thoroughly acquainted with everything connected with those pursuits, he allowed to be taken for granted; but besides these, he was able to converse with equal intelligence upon the exact sciences and all the statesmen of Europe. He was a careful observer, and knew how to turn his observation to good account.
Sonnenkamp, who was often one in a group of persons to whom Herr von Endlich would be talking, was made to feel, perhaps for the first time in his life, quite like a school-boy, in fact, extremely insignificant. He was standing with some others listening to Herr von Endlich's account of the casting of steel, when the Prince approached, and observing that the conversation ceased abruptly upon his arrival, said: —
"Pray, let me not interrupt you," and listened with apparent gratification while Herr von Endlich explained the whole process, as if he had spent his whole life as a worker in a machine shop.
Upon Sonnenkamp being presented, the Prince inquired if he had practised grape culture in America.
Sonnenkamp replied in the negative.
With a sudden change of subject, the Prince then asked again whether he knew Theodore Parker, whose preaching he had heard with pleasure.
Here again Sonnenkamp was unfortunately obliged to say no, feeling himself wretchedly poor and ignorant.
The Prince perceived the stranger's embarrassment, and desiring to introduce a subject on which he could not fail to be at home, asked whether he believed in the possibility of a peaceable settlement of the slavery question.
The bystanders listened with interest, while Sonnenkamp proceeded to state that the horrors generally associated with the idea of slavery had no actual existence, and that the abolitionists might be very well intentioned, but certainly they did not set to work in the right way.
"You must tell me more about this matter of slavery sometime; you must come to see me."
"Your Highness has but to command," replied Sonnenkamp, most happy that the conversation should end here.
Eric stood through the greater part of the evening near Weidmann, but desirous as he was of giving his undivided attention to the excellent man, he found it impossible to keep his eyes from wandering towards Bella. Bella was in the highest spirits. There was something Juno-like about her appearance. There was a dignified ease and a magnificent fulness of outline, with a look of pride and self-possession; she had a significant word for some, and a lighter for others; age she cheered, youth she made more gay, and all with an inimitable grace and nobleness of manner.
A constrained expression sometimes hovered about her lips, but as she passed from one to another she had a cheerful smile for all, and there was a magic charm in her friendliness. Even in her outward appearance she remained a mystery, for no one could tell the exact color of her eyes, though all were fascinated by their glance.
You might hate Bella, but you could not forget her.
Such must have been Dr. Richard's experience. The Doctor had been unjust to her, Eric thought, for Bella's leading principle was ambition, and ambition directed to great ends would appear like greatness. The feeling that he also had done her injustice, made his manner towards her more friendly and respectful. Bella seemed to divine what was passing in him, and nodded to him from time to time graciously and significantly.
Eric's manner set her mind completely at rest; for in fact she had sometimes secretly thought: What if this tutor should boast – pah! no one would believe him. Besides, he is by nature too noble to boast.
And what had happened between them, after all?
She had already found a subject of pride in her first contrition; having begun by persuading herself that the whole thing had been a passing exuberance of spirits, a tempting pastime, nothing but sport, in fact.
And who could contradict her?
She appeared to herself in the light of a heroine who had gloriously overcome temptation.
Her rehabilitation was so complete as to become the main fact in the case; indeed, the whole thing seemed to her like a romance she had read in some book; it had certainly made a great impression upon her, it had ended differently from what she had expected; but now it was finished, done with, laid aside, returned to the desk of the library. Yes, Bella could laugh at the idea of her still being so impressionable; she was almost proud of being still so naïve in her feelings, still capable of being carried away. Now it was all over, and she was ready for something else.
She exchanged a few words with Eric and Weidmann, rejoicing that the two had found one another, and hoping that Eric would often come to see Clodwig and herself, that so they might enjoy some more intellectual talk together, and be brought to a knowledge of their true selves in the midst of this whirl of society. She also asked Eric to take her some day into the Cabinet of Antiques, and give her some instruction about them. With a tone of sisterly advice she reminded him that etiquette required the making of certain visits on his part, in order not to be left out of society.
She was rejoiced to hear that he had already done part of his duty in this respect; and in reply to his remark that he had even inquired for the Sovereign's negro, but found he was spending the winter in Naples with the invalid princess of the royal family, she asked: —
"Ah? Herr Sonnenkamp sent you then to the nigger on some special commission?"
Eric replied that he did not understand the question, upon which Bella hastily changed the subject, saying that it was only an idle jest; and soon afterwards she was laughing and talking with Sonnenkamp, and calling his attention to a man in the company, the brother of Herr von Endlich, who kept the most fashionable tailor's shop in the capital.
Herr von Endlich could not help inviting his brother, who was a person of consideration in the city; and it was thought an excellent joke, that the man who sold the clothes yesterday could see now how well they fitted his customers.
Sonnenkamp congratulated himself that he would at least have no such intolerable family connections to dread when he should enter the ranks of the nobility.