Read Ebook: Withered Leaves: A Novel. Vol. 1 (of 3) by Gottschall Rudolf Von Ness Bertha Translator

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Ebook has 840 lines and 48171 words, and 17 pages

lgrimage to the city of Pure Reason, where Herbart stood so long upon Kant's rostrum, with his blue frock coat, and elegant riding-boots; secondly, he followed a friend's invitation. You, of course, know that worthy Herbartian who always goes to his lectures with a red umbrella, such as the late Lampe, Kant's servant, carried, and looks upon this red umbrella which he places upon a bench, and which gradually transforms itself by some optical delusion into a living being, as the third person, in order to form a college. At present he is bathing; the only student, who is accustomed to listen to him, is also bathing, only the red umbrella is missing; otherwise the college would be complete in the waves of the East Sea."

"You triumph, you Hegelites," replied Kuhl, solemnly; "but the day will come, when even Hegel will be expounded to empty benches:

'When this Imperial Troy And Priam's race and Priam's royal self Shall in one common ruin be o'erthrown.'"

Kuhl was soon introduced to Professor Baute and the seven girls. The upholder of polygamy was naturally not in the least degree confused by this female Pleiades. He took advantage of the knowledge which he had already gained as to how the land lay, for very adroit manuvres by which to win the seven ladies' good-will.

He spoke of the Caucasian beauties' plaits interwoven with pearls with Euphrasia, with Ophelia of the gentle rustle of the weeping birches in the hollow way in the evening's crimson light, with Emma of the worthlessness of the Neukuhren laundresses, especially with respect to shirt fronts; in a short time he was even so successful as to cause Albertina to interrupt her inflexible silence by some silliness, which fully explained her taciturnity; Lori, with great tact, made an allusion to both the Fr?uleins Dornau, acknowledged by Doctor Kuhl with a slight bow; Gretchen to say she would learn French, and Marie catch butterflies with him; in short, when the Doctor took leave, all seven voices were unanimous in declaring that he was a most charming man, and Doctor Reising was sadly placed in the shade by him.

The latter perceived this himself, but when he was becoming irritable about it, Kuhl consoled him with saying he should work for his friend in future, so soon as he had discovered the right girl, and established himself firmly in her favour.

Kuhl had hardly risen from table when Blanden, with his friend von Wegen, in a beaming, rosy, wine-flushed mood, went towards him and invited him to come to his Ordensburg in three days' time. Kuhl accepted, and Blanden promised then to recount his adventures in Warnicken, for which place he should set out that night on foot.

Thereupon the Herculean Doctor refreshed himself with a second glass of grog, sprang boldly over several tables that stood in his way, and had soon plunged into the salt waves, which he clove with a powerful arm, while Reising dejectedly bore the costs of the entertainment with the seven possible brides, and, left alone in his glory, played a by no means triumphant part.

THE AMBER MERCHANT.

Blanden had taken up his pilgrim's staff, when the sun was already bending to its decline, and the heat of the day was over; but his own feelings were quite fresh as dawn. Those dreams of first love, which breathed such a wondrous softness over life, had been revived in him once more; he buried himself completely in those reveries.

His thoughts went back to the time when, as a scholar in the upper school, he had been in love with the daughter of a Burgomaster in some country town. He reverted to the emotions which he then felt, as the rattling post-chaise approached the little town at an early morning hour, first rolling over the pavement between the barns of the suburb, then through the empty, sleeping streets, by the lifeless houses, part closed shutters, until he reached the market-place, where stood the house belonging to the town's functionary, which, with its faded pink colouring, blushed more joyously in the morning sunlight.

There, too, an invisible hand pushed the curtain aside, and a little visible, curly head, around one unfinished side of which curl-papers still rustled, looked out, smiling so pleasantly, and nodded its greeting--and the postillion blew a stirring tune, as he stopped before the Black Eagle of the Post-house.

How happy, how blissful was the schoolboy's heart! That moment in which the angel's head nodded to him out of its concealment, caused him greater ecstacies than any happiness of a later extravagant love, and never had the heart's throbs of expectant longing been more vivid than in the post-chaise at that time!

Now it seemed to him as if he were capable of similar emotions, as if, after internal regeneration, the youth's singleness of heart were returning again for a short period.

The longing for his campanula lent wings to his steps, he saw her picture vividly before him; the flying shadows of the clouds did not bear it away with them; the Samland "Palven" which extended on the left side of the road, that dead heath with its solitary bushes, that chilling sterility and barrenness of nature did not subdue his spirits, and the resounding thunder of the surf, sometimes near, sometimes more distant, stirred the wanderer's heart and steps to move at a merry pace.

Evening's crimson light sparkled in the valley's ravines and brooks, which flow on towards the sea; upon the tops of the oaks and beeches, above the steep, jagged cliffs; in the luxuriant vallies; upon the bare heights and above the glimpses of the swelling ocean which the eye discovers either between groups of trees towering up on nigh, or away over the sand-hills.

This melancholy light, which encourages the mind's return to the past, to half-forgotten scenes, did not harmonise with the wanderer's mood; a fresh, sparkling, dewy morning, with a cool breeze from the coast of the enterprise-loving Scandinavians, or the islands of the old Vikings, would have satisfied it better.

Blanden wished to break with his past, even drive away all the thoughts that reminded him of it; his Eva, whom he had found by the woodland stream, should be to him as the first woman of creation, whom he meets, to whom yields his undesecrated feelings.

This love should be to him as a draught from a fresh spring, refreshing, cooling, and at the same time metamorphosing him as if by mysterious magic.

Was it, then, love? It was in the first instance only a brief meeting; but it dropped the seed of love into his heart, and it was his will to nourish and cultivate that seed.

As he walked along, lost in such thoughts, the rays of the evening sun disappeared suddenly beneath heavy clouds, through which at first it peeped like a flaming triumphal arch, until the increasing shades of night enveloped the extinguished glow.

At the same time a storm arose, which burst in the wooded defiles with furious rapidity, so that the cracking of broken boughs under foot denoted his path, while the thunder of the sea became louder and more portentous, and the thousand crests of waves rose higher towards the heavy, lowering clouds.

Soon the thunder of the sky amalgamated with the thunder of the billows; lightning glided down the sharp, rugged hills along the coast, so that their singular profiles gleamed like demons' faces. The lonely "Palven" bushes shivered in the tempest, and the whole heath seemed to be in ghost-like motion.

Blanden felt himself refreshed by this magnificent spectacle of Nature; he thought of the proud grandeur and immutability of the universe.

Just so did the storm sweep over the verdure of the heath, waving to and fro, just so did the sea cast its foaming surf against the cliffs when the ancient Prussians still lived here, who in the grove of Romove, sacrificed to their god Perkunos; when the knights of orders, their cloaks above their armour, and the black cross upon their white mantles, rode upon their steeds along the coast, when the Holy Virgin and the old heathen deity stood opposed in irreconcilable conflict.

Then the din of battle raged above the Baltic shore, as to-day the din of the unfettered elements; yet, how everything had been changed!

What would the heathens say to the towns abounding with churches, which had driven out their sacred groves; what the knights of the orders to the disciplined regiments whose close columns belch forth fire, while flying batteries hasten to the heights to hurl death forth to a distance formerly undreamed of? Yet one visible, red thread never lost, extends through all changes of time. That which energetic and highly-gifted Masters of Orders had attempted for the cultivation of the land, when they made the wide plains arable, protected the marshes against the onslaught of the tide by means of dykes, appointed a secure bed for the streams, was a heritage to which the Hohenzollern princes succeeded, and made fruitful unto the present day.

The sudden breaking of the tempest even drew Blanden's mind momentarily from the immediate emotions which had possession of it, but as the clouds, too, opened their sluices, and thunder followed closely upon the lightning's footsteps as it leaped dazzlingly across the path, then the open air became intolerable, and the wanderer turned into the first tavern.

It was a fisherman's ale-house, whose exterior promised but little hospitable reception. Yet several carts stood in a half-open shed, and numerous baskets were piled up, denoting that there was no lack here of commercial traffic.

Despite the weather, the little windows in the large parlour stood open, and, in the pauses which the thunder made, a confused noise was emitted of men's quarrelling voices, between them the high pitched tones of a woman, who evidently sought to establish quiet in this uproar.

A rain-drenched trap stood unwatched before the door; the horse, with limply drooping mane, shied at the lightning without causing the heavy waggon to move from its position.

Two parties stood opposite one another in the small tavern parlour; gleaming pieces of amber, of the most beautiful pale-yellow shade, lay upon the table; on the right-hand, in the background of the room, several washtubs could be seen, in which the fishermen, with their brawny, naked arms, sought to cleanse the produce of the pits on the shore from the soil that clung to it.

But one of the men had just now left this occupation. With menacing gesture, with clenched fist, he stood erect, his face glowing with anger, and appeared to be repudiating some accusation that was hurled against him by a man with a remarkable countenance, who leaned upon the table containing the pieces of amber. The two other fishermen certainly continued to wash the primeval resin in their tubs, at the same time, however, taking part in the dispute with violent words.

The stranger who, with folded arms, opposed an iron determination to this fury of the Baltic Masanielli, was very uncommon looking. His dress was slightly Russian. His two companions who stood beside him, were clad entirely in national costume; but his features betokened a southern origin.

"I counted the pieces accurately in the pit," he cried to the shouting fishermen, "I looked closely at them. One was large enough to make a pretty toilet casket, and that piece is missing; it has been suppressed in washing!"

The fishermen's muscular hands were raised again in denial of this accusation. The fisherman's wife, in red headkerchief and green woollen dress, interposed, saying that there should be no disturbance in her parlour; the piece had, perhaps, fallen from the waggon, and would be found after all.

"It is a disgrace to accuse honest people falsely!" cried the ring-leader of the amber-washers, whilst a gleam of yellow lightning flashed, and a quickly-following clap of thunder awoke the echo of the cliffs.

Blanden had listened to the dispute at the open door. Then he entered, and his sudden appearance caused the noise to cease.

"Landlady!" cried he, "a drink to refresh me! And you people, can you not agree quietly? Do not the heavens make commotion enough? Spirits and beer for these good people; for to-day they have carted sand, and washed amber enough--they need refreshment! Hang my coat before the kitchen stove, best of women! The old Samland gods have washed my skin!"

"Who are you, my Herr?" cried the amber merchant, "that you issue orders here, and withhold my washermen from their work?"

"Grant them a short rest," said Blanden, as he seated himself in his shirt sleeves at the table upon which gleamed the pale yellow gifts of the East Sea. "Perhaps we, too, may do some business, my good sir; I am just in the humour to-day to buy the Great Mogul's diamonds."

The Italian became more friendly; still, however, he regarded the interloper with a distrustful glance. His two companions, with their slit Calmuck eyes, permitted themselves to grin pleasantly. They looked meaningly at the fishermen, who were already refreshing themselves with the liquor which the hostess had given them.

Blanden understood how to acknowledge their friendliness, and recommended them also to the landlady's care.

Now a deep silence reigned. Blanden examined the pieces of amber; the dealer looked at him with a keen glance, and once started back as if startled, when Blanden's features were illumined by a sharp flash of lightning. It seemed as if some sudden recollection had dawned within him. The keen glances with which from henceforth he regarded the other, however, bore no tokens of amity about them.

"You come from Russia?" the nobleman began his enquiries, while he weighed a large piece of amber in his hands.

"From Wilna, my Herr."

"But you are no Russian?"

"I am an Italian."

"I took you for one. I love the Italians! They are a gifted people! What a pity that many years of oppression keeps their noble fire in subjection, so that it only finds vent for itself in petty, malicious outbreaks, like the flames of their Solfatara! An Italian--and how do you come to Russia?"

"Business connections. A merchant remains there where he has most prospect of gain."

"Then the amber trade between these coasts and Russia is probably flourishing?"

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