Rothfuss had heard no more of what was said.
He could not help crying like a child; and now he would like to know what he ought to wish for. He said that he wanted no one to advise him; he must find it out himself. For a long while, neither of us spoke a word. There was not a sound to be heard, save the bubbling of the fountain in front of the house.
I retired to my room, but could find no rest, and sat by the window for a long while.
It seemed to me as if an invisible and inaudible spirit was wandering through the house and bestowing upon it peace and quiet, above all other spots upon this earth.
Just then the watchman called the hour of midnight; the window of Ludwig's chamber opened, and Ludwig called out, "Tobias, come and see me to-morrow: I have something for you."
"Are you still awake?" cried I.
"Yes, father; and when I heard the watchman I knew for sure that I am at home. Now I understand the proverb, 'He who does not wander, does not return.' It is only among strangers that one learns to appreciate his home.
"But now go to sleep. Good-night, father."
CHAPTER VI
"The Herr Professor has arrived," were the words with which Martella greeted me early the next morning. I must observe that Martella now always spoke of Richard as "Herr Professor." The meeting of the brothers was a most affectionate one.
Ludwig's wife and Richard were friends at once. She introduced herself to him as the daughter of a professor, and Richard's impressive manner seemed to please her greatly.
Wolfgang was greatly moved, and whispered to me:
"I can now for the first time, say the best words: 'grandfather,' 'uncle;' and" – turning quickly to Johanna-"'aunt;' to Julius I have already said 'cousin,' and I shall soon have more cousins."
The brothers were soon involved in a most zealous discussion of the great questions of the day. Richard warned Ludwig against permitting the demagogues to make use of him, as their only aim was to foment disturbance, and to abuse all existing institutions. They were wholly without lofty or honest aims of their own. When he warned him to be on his guard and not to permit this or that one to influence his views of affairs in the Fatherland, Ludwig replied: "With your permission, I shall begin with you." Richard observed that, just as time helps to correct our judgments, in regard to past events, so does distance aid us in criticising contemporary history. It may take ten years before we can see the Europe of the present in the light in which it appears to the unprejudiced American of to-day; and when he asked Ludwig whether we might not cherish the hope that he would now remain in the old world, Ludwig answered that, with all his love of home, he did not believe he would be able to give up the perfect independence of American life.
"And what do you think on the subject, my dear sister-in-law?"
"I am of the same opinion as my husband."
Richard expressed a wish that Ludwig might, at some future day, take charge of the family estate, as there was no one else who could do it. It seemed to me, indeed, that, in all that he said, Richard was trying to determine Ludwig to unite his fortunes with those of the Fatherland.
Ludwig, who had come by way of France, could tell us much of the great excitement that had been produced there by the plebiscite.
The brothers were agreed that the expression of the popular will had been accompanied by fearful deceit on the part of the authorities; but they did not agree as to the object contemplated by that deceit.
"I was often obliged," said Ludwig, "to think of our old schoolmaster, who explained the philosophic beauty of the Latin language to us by the fact that volo has no imperative; but the author of the 'Life of Cæsar' has shown us, by means of the plebiscite, that volo has an imperative."
Ludwig asserted that the majority of educated Frenchmen hated and despised Napoleon; for all the large cities, with the exception of Strasburg, which gave a small majority on the other side, had voted no. At the same time, what they hated and despised in him was just what they themselves were; for every individual Frenchman really desires to be a Napoleon; and the no that a portion of the army had voted, simply meant, "We want war." Napoleon had undermined every sense of duty, and the misfortune of France was that no one there believed in the honesty or the unselfishness of another creature.
"I have also made the acquaintance of French emigrants in America. It is, of course, unfair to judge of a nation by its emigrants; but I could not help being struck by the fact that those whom I met had no confidence in any one."
Richard, on the other hand, had a very good opinion of the French. He told us that about the time he was working in the library at Paris, he had travelled much through France, and had made the acquaintance of Frenchmen of every station in life.
"The French are industrious and temperate, and a people of whom that can be said, has a noble destiny awaiting it. They have a great desire to please, which makes them agreeable, and gives all their work the impress of good taste. They are fond of all that partakes of the decorative, whether it be a glittering phrase or a badge. If that which, from its very nature, ought to be general, could gain distinction for them-if there could be an aristocracy in republican virtue, I cannot help believing that the Frenchmen would be unbending republicans."
"Yes," said Ludwig; "and they are humane, also. The vain and conceited man is usually generous and communicative: he thinks he has so many advantages that he is glad to bestow a share on others, and is annoyed and almost angry if they do not care to accept his bounty; for he considers their declining it as a want of belief in his superiority, and is surprised to find that others do not hunger and thirst for the things that he regards as delicacies."
The brothers became involved in all sorts of discussions, and, although Richard was the younger of the two, he showed, in a certain patronizing way, how pleased he was to find that the school of experience had moderated Ludwig's views. For the brothers agreed on one point-that, as there was no one church which could alone save mankind, so there was no one form of government which could alone make all men free. After all, everything depended on the honesty and the morality of the citizen, and, for that reason, it could not be maintained that the republican form of government was a guarantee of freedom, or that a monarchy necessarily implied a condition of servitude.
The brothers now understood each other better than they had done in former times.
Richard always occupied himself with general principles, while I can only interest myself in particulars. The first question that I ask myself is, How does the rule apply to this or that one? Richard is different. He has no eye for isolated cases, but a far-seeing glance where general principles are concerned. He looks upon everything from a certain lofty historical point of view. He regards the hilly region in which we live with the eye of an artist and a scientist, noticing the elevations and the depressions, without giving a thought to the people who dwell among them. He does not see the villages, much less a single villager.
My experience with Richard solved a question which had always been a riddle to me. He has no love for the people, and is, nevertheless, an advocate of liberty. Until now, I could not understand how it was possible; now it is clear to me.
Advocates of liberty are of two classes. The one class ask for it as a logical necessity; the other are disappointed when the people, or portions thereof, become obstinate or prove themselves unworthy of freedom. The former have nothing to do with mankind, but simply busy themselves with the idea of liberty, and are, for that reason, more positive and exacting and less given to fine talk.
Formerly, Richard had been dissatisfied with all of Ludwig's actions and opinions. He was opposed to all that was violent; but now Richard had become the more liberal, and Ludwig the more conservative, of the two. It was in America, where the tendency seemed towards a loosening of all restraint, that Ludwig had for the first time learned to attach importance to the preservation of established institutions. While they were yet children under the instructions of Pastor Genser, who afterward became my son-in-law, the two boys had given much of their time to music. To listen to Richard playing the violincello and Ludwig playing the piano, was one of the greatest pleasures that our household afforded Gustava and myself.
Ludwig has given up music, and they can now no longer play together. But when I heard them talking in unrestrained converse, and observed how the one transposed the mood and the thoughts of the other into his own key, and developed it, adding new combinations of ideas; and when I noticed how the eye of either speaker would, from time to time, rest upon the other with a joyful expression, it seemed yet more beautiful and more grateful to my heart than any music could be. And withal, each temperament preserved its own melody. Richard looked forward for some event that would mark a turning-point in the affairs of men, or for the advent of some great man, to utter the command, "Come, and follow me." Ludwig added that liberation could only be brought about by one who possessed a cool head and a firm hand, so that, without swerving a hair's breadth to either side, he could put in the knife where it was needed.
Richard, with more than his wonted animation, spoke joyfully of being released from the opposition party, and when Ludwig approvingly said that the time was now coming for Germany in which those who were dissatisfied with its laws and institutions would not be the only free ones, Richard again urged him to consider how hard it would be if no one of us should take charge of the estate, and it should thus at some day fall into the hands of strangers.
"That is no misfortune," replied Ludwig. "Our posterity may again become poor, just as our ancestors were; all property must change hands at some time or other. To encourage the fond desire of retaining possession of a so called family estate, savors of aristocratic feeling."
Richard was struck by this reply, and said: "You are more familiar with the history of the Indians than I am; but do you recollect the reply of the chief whom they were endeavoring to persuade to move off with those who belonged to him, into another territory-'Give us the graves of our ancestors to take with us?' And, Ludwig, over there is the grave of our mother."
There was a long silence after that, and Ludwig merely replied, "You do wrong to urge me so."
Martella had been sitting near by while the two had been carrying on their familiar conversation. In all likelihood, she had understood but little of what was said, for, while discussing the improvement of the whole world, they indulged themselves in vistas of the distant future. But Martella would look first at one and then at the other, and then at me, nodding approval each time. And afterward, when she and I were alone together, she said, "Father, your eyes told me how happy you were, and you must have thought just as I did; did you not? Ah, if Ernst only knew how his brothers are here talking with each other from their very hearts! Indeed, if he were here he would be the most sensible of all, for there is no one like Ernst."
CHAPTER VII
Ludwig's servant entered and inquired whether he might accompany "madame" (meaning Johanna) to church.
"You may go," replied Ludwig to the servant, who saluted in curt military style and left the room.
Richard inquired where the man was from, for his pronunciation would prove him a North German.
Ludwig replied, "Yes, he is a specimen of North German discipline and reliability.
"Although he was willing to work at anything, he was almost perishing with want when I made his acquaintance. I took him into my service, and every order I gave was executed by him as implicitly as if he were obeying an imperative law of nature.
"One evening I had an appointment to meet several persons at the town hall; I took him with me, and said to him, 'Willem, wait here for me.'
"I entered and had a lengthy interview-forgot Willem, and left through another door.
"The next morning I came back to the town hall, and there stood Willem.
"'What are you doing there?' I asked.
"'Ik warte.'5 said he.
"He had waited there all night, and would probably have waited the whole of that day, if I had not by chance come there.
"After that, we always called him 'Ik-warte.'"
We were so happy together. It was one of those moments that one wishes might be prolonged forever, and in which one dreads to move from his seat for fear of breaking the spell. Our happiness was, however, not to be of long duration.
The locksmith's widow came, bringing her children with her. They brought a pot of fine honey, and fresh garlands of daisies and violets.
Ludwig advised the children-they were two girls and a boy-above all things not to consider themselves Americans; for if Germans would work as they do in America, they could do just as well as the Americans.
The widow said that she would like to have a talk with Ludwig alone, for she looked upon him as the guardian of her children. Ludwig promised to pay her a visit at an early day.
She was about leaving when new guests arrived.
Funk called, but he had discreetly sent in advance his parade horse, Schweitzer-Schmalz, who was attired in the national costume she was so fond of, with large, round, silver buttons. He walked along with an air of great importance, with his bull neck, his face shining with good living, and his thick eyelids, from beneath which his little eyes cast their contemptuous glances. He was followed by the village lawyer, a man of pleasing appearance, and, indeed, a noble being who had but one fixed idea, and that was that the world was to be protected against all corporalism.
Funk followed after these two fit companions of his. He had not been in my house for four years.
Schweitzer-Schmalz was the first to speak, and uttered a short, hearty, "Welcome, Ludwig!"
For the first time, he avoided his haughty manner of treating every one as "little fellow." The tall, commanding appearance of Ludwig awed him.
After that, the lawyer delivered a somewhat longer and quite fervent speech, and I was obliged to beg Richard to keep quiet, for he whispered to me, "All this so early in the morning, and without an audience of empty bottles!"
Funk extended his hand in silence and nodded significantly, as if he meant to say, "You know already what I mean."
Martella brought wine and glasses. It hurt me to feel that she was in the presence of Funk, who had, years ago, so maliciously dragged her name before the political meeting.
I had told Ludwig nothing of my rupture with Funk.
Funk inquired about several who had been their companions in revolution and who had emigrated. Of many, Ludwig could give no information, while of some he could give us good report, and of many others, sad news.
Ludwig disapproved of the emigration fever.
The turn that the conversation had taken did not seem to Funk's taste; but Ludwig was able to direct it as he desired, and, addressing himself more especially to the lawyer, he spoke of the intimate relations that existed between our country-South Germany in particular-and America.
Owing to their innate energy, and in spite of want, misery and ignorance of the language, the proportion who succeed in attaining wealth, position, and honors is much larger with the first generation of emigrants than with their children who are born in America.
Statistics had proven that, in spite of want and temptation, the first generation offered far fewer objects for the jails than did the second. On the other hand, the former were more largely represented in the insane asylums.
Funk was evidently displeased, and emptied his glass at one draught. Although he laughed, he seemed ill at ease when Schweitzer-Schmalz said, "There you have it. I have always told you little folk may emigrate; but the right sort of a man," he said, stroking his fat belly at the same time, "knows where he is best off, and keeps at home."
"I believe that you are also one of the deceived ones," said Ludwig, supplementing his remarks. "You cannot know, or, at all events, only know it superficially, that the projectors of new railroads attempt to help the price of their shares by encouraging emigration into the territory traversed by their road, and that many who get gratuities by them do not even know this."
Funk suggested that a festive gathering of people from the village and surrounding country should take place on any Sunday that Ludwig might fix upon. The meeting was to be in honor of his arrival. At this time he was doubly welcome, for he would assist in dispelling the Prussian pestilence.
"I see you are still fond of set phrases," replied Ludwig, and added: "How strange it is since the congress of Vienna, all friends of the Fatherland have been clamoring for a man who, with firm hand and shrewd judgment, would, regardless of consequences, force Germany into unity; and now that he is with us, they hurl stones at him. And do you know, Professor, what it is that particularly pleases me in Bismarck?" he exclaimed roguishly.
"How should I know?"
"He has fortunately one of those rare names that can be pronounced the same in all languages."
"We had thought we should meet an old republican-an enemy of tyrants!" exclaimed Funk.
"I have not changed in that respect," answered Ludwig. "The question whether a republic or a monarchy should be preferred, is about the same as if one were to ask which is better, meat or farinaceous food? All depends upon the manner in which the food is prepared, and upon the digestive powers of the stomach. But don't let us dispute now. I trust we shall have a chance yet to discuss these matters more calmly."
"What day have you determined on?" inquired Funk.
Ludwig said that he desired no such compliment. He preferred to renew his acquaintance with the people and their circumstances in a quiet, unobtrusive manner.
The church bells began tolling, and Funk said: "Perhaps you wish to go to church? You have probably grown religious, too?"
"Thanks for catechizing me," said Ludwig.
"Ah, I forgot to address you as 'Colonel,'" said Funk.
"That makes no difference, although my rank is that of colonel. I was promoted at the front, and it is the greatest pride of my life that I did my duty in the war for wiping out slavery."
I do not know whether it was shrewdness or arrogance towards his companion or ourselves, that induced Schweitzer-Schmalz to assume his wonderfully self-complacent air.
"Yes, Colonel," said he, "another American war would not be so unpleasant to us after all?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Why, that we gained one great advantage from it, or, as my student says, 'pitch.'"
"I do not understand you."
"Yes," began Schweitzer-Schmalz, after emptying his glass, "your father doesn't like rosin; but, for the little farmers, the pine-trees which give rosin are just like so many milchcows. I have a piece of woodland that I milked hard, because, so long as the war lasted, no rosin came from America, and the price of ours went up very much."
Richard could not refrain from remarking on the wonderful connection that made changes in one country affect the most distant portions of the globe. And thus the visit, which had promised to be so disagreeable, ended quite pleasantly.
Funk and his companions left, and when Richard was about to speak of Funk's emptiness, Ludwig replied:
"You are deceived in him. He is full of what we, in America, call 'steam.' He has a restless spirit of enterprise."
My daughter-in-law and Johanna went to church together, and Ikwarte followed after them.
The watchman came, and Ludwig gave him a considerable present.
After that, Ludwig requested me to accompany him to the statue gallery, where he said: "Father, I have brought nothing for you; but I know that your greatest pleasure is to do acts of beneficence; let me, therefore, place this sum of money in your hands, so that you may distribute it according to your best judgment. If I can do good through you, I shall be doing good to myself; and, as mother is no longer living, I must ask you to attend to this for me."
I doubt whether in yonder church there was one heart more piously inclined than ours were on that day.
But it seems that nothing in life can remain perfectly pure and undisturbed.
We were just about sitting down to dinner, when a wretched-looking creature, called Wacker, entered. He lived in the neighboring valley, and had once been a comrade of Ludwig's at the Polytechnic school. He had left school at an early day, in order to take charge of a beer brewery, and had become a drunkard. His place had been sold out, and he now wandered about from one little tavern to another, where he would spend the day between maudlin curses and drunken slumbers. When he entered the house, it was only noon, and he was already intoxicated.
"Brother," he exclaimed, "give me one of your California lumps of gold; or, if that is asking too much, see that I have free tap for one year at the 'Lamb.' Here is my hand. If the war begins again, I will help. Give me hand-money-throat-money-throat-money!"
He offered his hand to Ludwig, who declined it. I saw his indignation; his glance fell on Ludwig's wife and on Wolfgang, for the latter seemed surprised that the degraded creature should address his father in such familiar terms. Wacker begged for a gift, but Ludwig refused it with the words, "Get some employment, and then I will help you, but not before."
Wacker replied in vile, abusive terms.
Ludwig instantly collared him and led him from the room.
We could hear him cursing, after he got out into the road; and then he staggered down the hillside.
There was something cold and hard as iron in Ludwig's manner towards all except his nearest kindred, to whom he was kind and gentle.
This interruption was a shrill dissonance in our Sunday's pleasure. We soon forgot it, however.