Oh! brother, who art seeking still For love and joy, where I have sought, I would your path with blessings fill When to its end my life is brought.

Ah! brother, could we two aspire Together to the glorious height,-- Hence tears! some part of my desire Is thine. Thou lovely world, good night!

CHAPTER XII.

Suddenly Edwin's step sounded on the stairs. When he entered, he found Balder sitting before the stove stirring the bright fire with the poker.

"How do you do, child?" he said, with a brighter face than usual. "What are you doing? Where's Franzel? Have you been burning papers here?"

"I've been making up a little more fire," replied the youth, bending toward the flames to conceal his blushes. "It's beginning to grow cold.

Franzel went out a short time ago, probably to visit his betrothed."

"Our tribune of the people betrothed? The conspirator conspired against? And to whom, if I may ask?"

"You were right, Edwin, in your suspicion that something unusual was the subject of Reginchen's thoughts. It's still a secret, however. But I'm very glad. They will suit each other exactly, I think."

"Well, well! how fast children develope! Our philanthropist and woman hater, and the little house swallow! This is news indeed! Well, I too have something to tell. Just as I was coming into the house, the post-man overtook me and handed me a letter, which, _entre nous_, is worth fifty ducats: we've won the prize, my boy!"

"Your essay? That's very pleasant!"

"Pleasant? Nothing but pleasant? I think your brotherly love receives the news of this miracle very phlegmatically."

"Because I think nothing more natural than that you should at last be appreciated. I've never doubted that you would be."

"Yes, yes, child," laughed Edwin pa.s.sing his hand caressingly over his brother's luxuriant hair, "if you should read in the newspaper to-morrow, that a certain Dr. Edwin was made Grand Mogul, or what would be still more wonderful appointed minister of public worship and instruction, you would, in your famous blindness, lay aside the sheet and say: 'I'm only surprised that the bright idea didn't occur to them long ago.' Well then, you member of the _nil admirari_ society, I can venture to tell my second piece of news without fear of causing you any special agitation. The faculty that were wise enough to a.s.sign the prize to my essay, have been so well pleased with me that in spite of my radical tendencies, they offer me a professorship. That is, for the present only surreptiously. They have to struggle against all sorts of eddies and tack constantly, to bring me through. But they think, if I should come and show myself, certain orthodox colleagues, who believe me a child of h.e.l.l, would see that the devil is not so black as he's painted. So I'm to come, see and conquer, and that soon, for the professorship has been vacant ever since Easter, and they would like to have the _collegium logic.u.m_ filled again during this winter session.

The salary is not bad, at any rate it's a piece of bread, though for the present there's no b.u.t.ter to spread it with. Well, if we find we can't live down prejudices now, it's a sign at least that the light will eventually conquer the darkness, 'and the day of the n.o.ble hearted (that is to say, your dear brother) will dawn at last.'"

"Although it can't be done? But Edwin, I beg you--"

"My child, that's very evident. We can't strike our tent in winter and travel fifty miles toward the south, with your poorly patched lungs, especially as we don't know how the climate there will suit you. Ah! if the tun could be packed up just as it stands, and sent as freight, marked 'gla.s.s, this side up with care--!'"

They were both silent for a time. Balder held the letter from the faculty in his hand and seemed to be reading it again. The prize essay was mentioned in the most flattering terms, its special merits dwelt upon, and a private letter added from the dean, in which he emphasized the wish to obtain such promising young talent for the university.

Edwin had gone to his desk and was beginning to cut a pen.

"Are you still studying the letter, child?" he asked carelessly. "They write in a very pleasant style in that neighborhood, don't they? Well, we will do ourselves credit too."

"Does _she_ know it yet?" asked Balder, without looking up.

"She? What are you thinking about? I haven't seen her for a fortnight.

Besides, what interest would she take in it? It'll be time enough to tell her when I make my next visit, and she won't even be curious about the prize essay. Such a d.u.c.h.ess!"

Balder quietly rose, laid the letter on the table and said: "You'll not hurt my feelings by refusing this, Edwin. I can spend the winter here if necessary and join you in the spring. You know what excellent care I shall have in your absence, and I shall never be really well again. But the most important thing is to first talk the matter over with her.

There's no obstacle in the way now."

"Child!" exclaimed Edwin, throwing aside his pen, "do you want to drive me mad--that you represent as possible things, which once for all--But no, it's folly to even speak of it seriously. Come, let's eat our dinner, I hear them bringing it and since the knowledge has come to me that we possess fifty ducats, I feel as hungry as a millionaire--or no, millionaires are never hungry--I'm hungry as a man who has never seen fifty ducats at once in his whole life."

The door opened. But instead of the maid-servant who usually brought the dinner, little Jean entered, his round face with its staring blue eyes half buried in the high collar of a thick pilot-cloth coat, his hair carefully brushed, and his cheeks as red as Borsdorf apples from exposure to the sharp east wind. He held in his hand a paper horn, from which he awakwardly drew a bouquet of violets. "I'm to give this to the sick gentleman," he said in his automatic falsetto voice, "and my young lady wishes to know how he is."

Balder took the bouquet from his hand. "Say that I'm very well, and that my brother will call himself this afternoon to express my thanks for the beautiful flowers. And here--" he felt in his pocket and took out the last thaler he possessed--"you've had to come up these steep stairs so often--"

The boy retreated a step. "My mistress forbid me to take anything."

"Say to her that we've won the great prize in the lottery," replied Balder smiling, as he put the thaler into the pocket of the boy's rough coat. "And now go, give my compliments to your mistress, and this afternoon--you understand?" The boy nodded gravely as usual, and bowing respectfully left the room.

"What have you done!" exclaimed Edwin, as soon as they were alone; "Child, child, you force me to yield my head or at least my heart, to the knife. What pleasure in being called Frau Professorin do you suppose she would find?"

"Put the flowers in the water, Edwin, and then go to your desk. They're not meant for me. This afternoon will settle the rest: here comes the dinner, and the news that this morning has brought, has made me hungry too. How's Reginchen to-day, Lore?"

"She seems rather better," said the faithful old servant, who had lived in the house many years, smiling mysteriously. "At least I saw Herr Franzelius go in an hour ago; and as he's there still and has even dined with her, and as Reginchen first cried and then laughed, her sickness can't be very dangerous. Goodness me, and I've carried her in my arms!"

CHAPTER XIII.

When Edwin entered Toinette's room that afternoon, he found her seated on the sofa, evidently absorbed in thought, for she did not look up till he called her by name. A small box stood on the table before her, and she was absently turning the key backward and forward in the lock; her face was pale, and her eyes wore a strangely fixed expression. They rested on the new-comer's figure for some time, as if she found it difficult to recognize him; but it was only because she was forced to make an effort ere she could withdraw the look that had long been searching her own heart, and turn it again upon external things.

"Good afternoon, my dear friend," she said without rising, as she held out her hand to him, "have you come to see me again at last? That's very pleasant, but the best part of all is that you can do so with a light heart. What anxious weeks you have pa.s.sed! Well, I too have been very miserable and the worst of all is that no nursing or brotherly love can help me. But let's talk of something else, of something more cheerful. You have drawn the great prize? I congratulate you."

He smilingly explained what had induced Balder to play this joke upon little Jean, but said not a word about the professorship.

"No matter," said she, "it is pleasanter for you to have won a prize in a lottery where one must have more sense than luck if one is not to draw a blank. And yet it's a pity that it was only a joke. It would have consoled me for being unable to keep my promise."

"Your promise?"

"To offer you the relics of my princely fortune, in case your brother should wish to travel toward the south. Although I've lived very simply ever since then--see, this is all I have left. When I've paid my last housekeeping bill, there'll be just enough left for a dose of opium."

She had unlocked the little box and allowed him to look in. It contained a few gold pieces and thalers.

"I'm glad you've some room," he answered in a jesting tone, "or I should not know where to keep my fifty ducats. Such splendor in our lowly hut--you've now seen the famous tun--we've not as yet had any use for a fire-proof safe."

"Laugh on," she replied closing the little box. "But I'm angry with myself for having been foolish enough and weak enough, just before you came, to weep over my bankruptcy. The stupid money really is not worth the tears. But you see, that's the very reason a great prize is such a splendid thing, because we've no longer any need to humble ourselves by thinking and worrying about money. I'm ashamed of myself that I could be so base, even for a moment. And now not another word on the subject; tell me about your brother. Is he really out of danger?"

Edwin sat down on the sofa beside her and spoke of Balder's condition, of the hopes which Marquard had given, of the great love which all his friends had shown him, and of the earnestness with which he had charged him to thank Toinette for all her kindness. "Of course I thank you for myself, also, dear friend," he added. "I imagine you wished to show me kindness too. You knew what I suffered during those days, and that nothing could give me more hope and courage than your sympathy. Will you believe that amid all my anxiety for that beloved brother, I still found time to miss you most painfully? If you had coldly remained aloof, how I should have been forced to reproach myself for having become half faithless to my brother, for the sake of a friend who was perfectly indifferent to him!" She made no reply. It seemed as if she had only half heard his words, and was brooding over a thought which had nothing to do with him and his presence.

"You're fortunate," she said after a pause. "You have some one who can make you both sad and happy. I--but do you know whom I have seen again?

The count."

Edwin started up. His face suddenly grew pale. After a long pause, he said in a tone of forced indifference: "The count? In spite of the unequivocal declaration you made by your change of residence--"

"Oh! If you only knew him! Such a foolish man is not easily rebuffed.

And I at least owe him thanks for having amused me, while you left me all this time to grow melancholy."