"Defenceless. Well, I declare. We resisted with hands and feet!"

"Yes indeed. We left the field. Discretion is the better part of valor.

Oh! Heinz, I feel miserable after that heroic deed. And now to see my dear, patient sufferer, who by no word of complaint, no look of reproach--"

"Hush! She's coming back; there! 'Your loving father.' Now I'm curious to see whether he'll have any idea of how his papa can talk to him when he's not with him. Shall we mail the letter and then pay our respects to Frau Reginchen?"

All three left the little house and strolled through the quiet streets.

No one who saw Leah, leaning on Edwin's arm, would have suspected what a deep shadow had suddenly darkened her sunny life.

But it did not escape the notice of the little fair-haired woman in the neighboring, house for a single moment. As soon as the first greetings were over--Papa Feyertag was also present--Reginchen drew Leah aside, to ask what Edwin had said to the joyful news, and was greatly startled when she learned that he had not yet heard a word about it. He had returned home so exhausted that the greatest joy would have been lost upon him, and Mohr's visit had prevented her from telling it early that morning. Reginchen said nothing. Although, as we know, she did not possess a great deal of "education," her clear mind instantly showed her that something unpleasant had occurred, which would not be confided to her at present. She was glad when Reinhold and Mohr entered the nursery and the review of the children began; but could not help laughing and secretly nudging her husband, when the father of the remarkable boy evidently made the greatest effort to do justice to the twins and the little girl, but with the condescending gentleness a Cr[oe]sus would show in congratulating a man who had just won a hundred thalers in a lottery.

He was then obliged to go with Franzelius to see the printing office, the storerooms, and every nook and corner of the house, during which the father-in-law made a silent third party. Edwin had gone into the country alone and did not return until noon, when Reginchen invited them all to dine with her. The meal was not particularly social. Old Feyertag did not say a word and seemed to be out of humor with his son-in-law, who pretended not to notice it, but in spite of the festive occasion was not unfaithful to his silent nature. Edwin sat beside Leah, whom he treated with the utmost gayety and tenderness, but, he still seemed to be in a half dreamy, half absent mood, which at last became so oppressive to her sensitive nature, that she was obliged to leave the table before the dinner was half over to conceal her tears.

When she returned with red eyes, she said she had been attacked by one of her sudden headaches, from which, however, she had not suffered for years.

The only person, who seemed to be in high spirits, was Mohr, and it was owing to his efforts, that when they returned to Edwin's house in the evening, a more cheerful atmosphere pervaded the little circle, at least for a time.

During the walk the four men had taken about the city after dinner, he had been compelled to listen to the same melancholy disclosures from the old gentleman, in which the latter had received no special sympathy from Leah the evening before. Mohr, on the contrary, took the matter in the right way, and was psychologist enough to instantly perceive the remedy for the disease.

"I thank you for your confidence, my dear Herr Feyertag," he said after gravely listening to the dream about the boots and shoes. "Your state of mind is extremely interesting to me, the more so, as I've pa.s.sed through precisely similar crises myself."

"You, Herr Mohr? You're joking."

"Not at all, my dear sir. If you've only cared for the feet all your life, I've spent my best days in merely making heads, that is heads to notes, and also very good tails to them; but the best part was lacking,--the rascals had no hands and feet. You must know, my dear friend, I've just discovered the reason of this, and if I'm not mistaken, the case is precisely the same with you; we're both men of mediocre ability, Herr Feyertag. Once this vexed me very much, and an admirable lecture Papa Zaunkonig once gave, to prove that there must be such people in the world, was entirely lost upon me. Since then I've grown somewhat wiser. To be sure, it's disagreeable that we're neither of us remarkable men and only belong to the ma.s.ses, helping to make up the crowd and to prepare the soil which supports the really gigantic human plants. But look around you at Nature--isn't it the same story everywhere? To one oak that lasts for centuries, there are hundreds of thousands of low bushes, which moulder and decay, that this historical representative of the species may grow to an unusual height. If we wish to fret or lament about it, of course we're at liberty to do so. It's only a pity, that there's no court before which we can bring our complaint, for it's useless, my dear sir, and therefore only injurious, first to ourselves because it sours the blood and poisons the wine, and secondly to our fellow men, whose happiness we spoil by our discontent."

"But progress, Herr Mohr, the aspiration toward higher things called propagandism--?"

Mohr stood still. "How old are you now, my dear friend?" he asked, pulling an over ripe ear of corn from the field through which they were just pa.s.sing.

"Fifty-nine, Herr Mohr."

"An excellent age, Herr Feyertag, and I trust you may live to a still greater. And how tall are you now--I mean in feet and inches?"

"Five feet three inches, Herr Mohr."

"Do you expect to grow any more?"

"I? With my fifty-nine years?"

"But if you _desired_ to do so, if you felt the _aspiration_ to look over a file leader's shoulder?"

"I'm not so foolish, Herr Mohr, as to expect anything of that sort! But if I may venture to ask--"

"Why should you not venture to ask, my dear sir? I merely put the question to have you ask. That's called the Socratic method. You see, with all your aspirations toward higher things, you can no more succeed in adding an ell to your intellectual stature, than you can make your body taller. We're of middle height, Herr Feyertag; in case of need to be sure we can increase a little in breadth, add some fat of knowledge and skill, but the skeleton's complete and that's the end of it! If you compare yourself with me, you have the advantage. True, you're nothing extraordinary as a man, but in the art of shoe-making you're an accomplished master. I, on the contrary--if I did not enjoy the happiness of serving as a transition point for a better specimen, as it were, a test of the real material--I should go out of the world without having understood any reason for my existing in it. But let that be as it may, we non-commissioned officers and privates in the great army of mankind can bear ourselves bravely and win honor; and you in particular, Herr Feyertag--a man in the prime of life, with property, sense, and intelligence--do you know what I would do, if I were in your place?"

"What, Herr Mohr?"

"Your good wife doesn't want to leave Berlin. Well then propose to traverse Berlin itself with her. Go out every morning after breakfast and visit some place, the a.r.s.enal, the Museum, in short what every Englishman sees, and in the evening attend the theatre, the zoological garden, or what ever seems most attractive to you. We can only advance by moving strictly in our own circle, and meantime keeping our eyes open. In this way you'll in time climb far enough up the heights, and yet remain what you are--a man who thoroughly understands his trade, instead of, in your old age, becoming a bungler in the social-political business, where there are too many bunglers now, and which only the wisest heads can thoroughly comprehend."

"Hm!" replied the shoe-maker, "that's worth hearing, that's a very sensible proposition. True, mother won't like it at first, but I'm master of my own house, and if she once gets _in_--into a museum, I mean--she's always had a clever head and by no means bad taste. I see what you're aiming at, Herr Mohr: propagandism is all very well, but where one has no idea, the mere will is of no avail, and, with my grey hairs, to wander about like a journeyman on his travels--but, by the way, my son-in-law--what do you think of him? Ought he, too, only to go around in a circle and acc.u.mulate fat? Do you think him also a man of mediocre ability, like ourselves?"

"Herr Feyertag," said Mohr with a perfectly immovable face, "don't you know that a clever physician is always careful how he expresses his opinion as to whether a person has a diseased liver or apoplexy, unless he's specially consulted by the patient? You expressly asked my advice about your sufferings, and I have told you my honest opinion. In regard to third persons, especially if they're my friends, I never express myself openly and am ready to think every one a great man, until I have received incontestable proofs to the contrary."

CHAPTER IV.

This conversation had this favorable result, that when Papa Feyertag came to Leah's house in the evening, he seemed completely transformed; or rather like the man his friends had formerly known. True he took care to put the best face upon his conversion, but was very reserved about the motives that induced him to return to Berlin. But he endeavored in every way to show that he bore his son-in-law no malice, princ.i.p.ally by good natured jests about people who kept quiet to acc.u.mulate fat, and thought more about propagation than propagandism; moreover he was the most affectionate papa and grandpapa that could be desired, and related, as never happened except when he was in the best of humors, his own love story, that had led to the possession of "mother."

Mohr sat by with a quiet curl of the under lip, not uttering a syllable to betray the share he had had in the miracle. Besides, very different thoughts occupied his mind. In the first place, Edwin's still perceptible excitement caused him serious anxiety. The two young wives also, especially Leah, were forced to exert great self-control to conceal a heavy heart under a gay, jesting mood. As even the wine and all the comical and quaint ideas to which Mohr gave utterance during the evening, did not avail to lighten the oppression which, like an invisible thunder cloud rested more and more heavily on both couples, the faithful friend sat down to the harmonium and began to improvise.

He played for an hour, forgetting time and place in his own music, into which he successively introduced all Christiane's favorite themes. When he at last paused and looked around at the company, he saw that the remedy had produced a totally different effect from the one he had intended. Reinhold was sitting like a black bearded genius of melancholy beside his little wife, who was quietly wiping her eyes; Leah had left the room and after a very long absence returned with a deadly pale face; Edwin had the bread knife in his hand and was industriously cutting a straw table-mat into small pieces; papa Feyertag was leaning back in the sofa corner, sleeping the sleep of the just.

They separated at an earlier hour than usual. Mohr rambled about the city a long time, revolving in his inventive brain one plan after another, by which the evil that had so suddenly burst forth again and threatened to destroy the harmony of these two lives, might be most quickly and surely removed.

At last he devised a perfectly absurd catastrophe, namely that he would represent Toinette as the moral cause of Balder's death and by a bold accusation of murder separate her from Edwin forever. There was not a spark of reason in the whole plan, but the very monstrosity and impossibility of the idea soothed his own excited mood, and enabled him at last, like a man well satisfied with his day's work, to go to bed and sleep seven hours.

But he started up in terror from a dream in which he had said the harshest things to the author of the mischief and engaged to fight a duel with her husband, the count, to see Edwin standing beside his bed in the grey dawn, once more with an overcoat and traveling satchel, such as he had carried during the last days of their journey. Edwin smiled at his friend's astonishment and seemed to have suddenly attained a far more healthful condition of mind.

"I wanted to ask whether you'll go with me," said he. "Leah has persuaded me that it would be foolish to spend the last week of my vacation here. I've long desired to make an excursion to 'Wildwa.s.sern,'

which will only take three or four days. Besides, I might accomplish many other things, take you back to Frau Christiane and the wonderful boy and return just before the school begins. At first I would not hear of it. I don't feel at ease out of doors; every time I turn a corner I fear to meet a face which I would rather avoid. But, to be sure, wearied and disinclined to work as I am, I should not be of much use here and only make my good wife anxious. You don't know Leah, Heinz, no one knows her, I should like to know how many women there are, who would have borne so n.o.bly what has just befallen us. 'Go,' said she, 'it will do you good; only you must promise not to hurry so madly as you did the last day, but to walk quietly. When you return, you'll find a sensible wife.' Her voice trembled, and her eyes grew dim with tears, but she forced a smile, and then--I've not kissed her lips since I came back, haven't dared to do so, for I remembered that last night at the castle--but when I saw that she could not yet give me a caress! I miss it, miss it so strangely--you'll laugh at me, Heinz, but I think I should be instantly cured, if my only friend, my wise, proud, sad little wife--"

"Then let's go to her at once and tell her so! Besides, I've not yet taken leave of her. And it's so early--"

"No!" interrupted Edwin with restless anxiety, "she'll not expect us. I left farewell messages for our neighbors too. Come, my boy. I don't know why it is, but I can't rest till I get out into the woods and fields again. Your bill here is already settled. Of course the 'Star'

is only an addition to our tun in case distinguished travelers arrive, whom we cannot entertain under our own roof."

He hastily helped him to pack his traveling satchel and hurried him away. Just as they left the house, they saw the hotel stage returning, which daily at this hour brought the travelers from the railway. A lady, closely veiled, who must have just arrived by the night train, sat leaning back in one corner of this lumbering vehicle. As she pa.s.sed the two pedestrians, she made a hasty gesture, as if she recognised some one, but instantly drew back again.

Edwin started. "Did you notice--?" he said quickly.

"What?"

"In the stage--the veiled lady--I thought for a moment, that I recognized--by her way of bending forward--"

"You see ghosts, my dear fellow. d.u.c.h.esses travel with a suit of retainers, not in an omnibus."

"You're right! Yes indeed, I'm a fool. What could bring her here. But that's the cross I bear every moment. If a carriage rattles by--a door opens--ah! Nature, which made me a philosopher, failed to provide one essential--a suitable dose of the famous ataraxia."

"That's unfortunately true," replied Mohr, shrugging his shoulders.

"But your clever wife is right--the plant grows out of doors among the mountains and by the streams. But I too am not wholly insensible, and most earnestly beseech you not to seize me so convulsively, at least before I've breakfasted. We'll attend to this matter at the first stopping place, and then I'll sing you the old Eichendorff traveler's song, which Christiane has set to a very pretty air:

"'Through fields and rows of beech trees, Now singing, anon still, How joyous he, who leaves his home To wander at his will. '"

CHAPTER V.