CHAPTER V.

Funk had been unable to deny himself the pleasure of being on hand.

When we pa.s.sed the garden of the "Wild Man" tavern he stood at the fence, surrounded by several of his companions. They lifted their foaming beer-gla.s.ses on high, and cried, "Long live Ludwig, the republican!" Ludwig merely nodded his thanks, and then said to me:

"Father, let us get in and ride home."

The carriages were awaiting us.

I wanted my daughter-in-law to sit with me, but she insisted that Ludwig and Wolfgang should do so, while she joined Johanna and the rest of the party.

Rothfuss, who at other times took so great a pleasure in cracking his whip, now sounded it but lightly.

"Rothfuss, how long have you been with us?" asked Ludwig.

"Longer than you have been in this world," was the answer.

My grandson, Wolfgang, laughed out loud, and told us that his father had prophesied that very answer.

As we drove through the village, every one came to the windows to greet us.

We were pa.s.sing the house of the kreis-director. The family were seated in the garden, and we were obliged to stop with them for a little while. The roses were lovely, and the faces of our friends were bright with kindness.

The husband, the wife, and the daughters welcomed the new-comers most cordially, and the wife handed my daughter-in-law a bouquet of roses.

Their son was also present. He had become a lieutenant, and his countenance seemed to combine the clear, bright expression of the mother, with the sternness of the father.

Julius and Martha were standing a little way off, beside a blooming rose-bush, and when I said to Ludwig, "Behold your future niece," they were both so suffused with blushes, that they resembled the roses. My daughter-in-law embraced Martha, and was afterward embraced by the Privy Councillor's wife.

Ludwig urged our departure for home, and the charming woman thanked us heartily for the short visit we had paid her. In the meantime, Rontheim had opened a bottle of wine and filled our gla.s.ses.

Our gla.s.ses clinked; we emptied them, and started on our way; and Rothfuss said, "The Privy Councillor did the right thing in pouring out some wine; eating and drinking is the best half of nourishment." Ludwig laughed heartily.

Ludwig held me by the hand while we drove along the valley road.

"The houses have been rebuilt," he said, pointing towards the right bank of the stream. It was there that, during the uprising of 1848, he had been in command, and where the houses had been burned to the ground.

"We have him in a sack; if we could only keep him there for ourselves for a couple of weeks," called out Rothfuss.

My grandson did not understand him, and I was obliged to explain how Rothfuss always managed to catch my very thought.

I had wished to be able to have Ludwig's society for myself, and to give no one a part of him, except of course his brothers and sisters.

From a few remarks of Ludwig's, I gathered that he was aware of my thoughts, and the first thing he said to me was a text for all that followed.

"I have not forgotten mother's saying, and it has often been a guide for me: 'We have part in the world, and the world ought to have part in us.'"

It seemed to me that Rothfuss was laughing to himself. I had been mistaken, however, for Wolfgang, who was seated on the box with Rothfuss, now called out, "Father, Rothfuss is crying!"

"Is there anything that such an American wouldn't notice?" replied Rothfuss, sitting upright on the box, and cracking his whip with all his might.

"And so the new road through the valley is finished," said Ludwig; "I suppose Antonin built that. It would have been better, though, if they had carried it along the other bank."

The new road had, however, only been laid out as far as the boundary line; from there unto my dwelling, which was fully two hours distant, there was only the old road, which was in a horrible condition.

"Father," exclaimed Wolfgang, "here are the boundary posts that you told me of."

"Yes," said Ludwig; "this is yet old Germany. Here, there is still separation."

I believe that I have not yet mentioned that I live near the border.

Our village is the last point in our territory, and further down the valley is the beginning of the neighboring princ.i.p.ality.

How strange! There was so much that we wished to speak of to one another, and the first subject of conversation was the laying out of the new road.

And it is well that it is so; for this helps one over the heart-throbs that otherwise would be almost insupportable.

Ludwig had mentioned mother, and for the present she was not referred to again.

He had a quick glance, and always thought of what might benefit the community; and when Wolfgang expressed his delight at the wild, rushing valley stream, Ludwig said to me, "That stream could do much more work.

There is a fortune floating there, thrown into the water, as it were, and flowing away from our valley out into the ocean."

"To whom does water-power belong?" inquired Wolfgang.

We gave him the desired information, and this question was a happy proof of his active, inquiring mind.

"Over yonder," said Rothfuss, "there is a miller who has his water-power direct from the heavens." He pointed to the house of the so-called "thunder miller," who had built his mill in such a way that its wheel would only go after there had been a storm.

The ground for some distance before we reached the tunnel, was covered with cherry-trees with straight trunks, the branches of which looked like a well-arranged bouquet; and on the heights were the beech-trees with their red buds, and one could follow the gradual development of the foliage.

"Look, Wolfgang," said Ludwig, "you can see here how spring gradually climbs up the mountain side."

"Father," exclaimed Wolfgang, "the people in the fields are all looking up at us."

"They all know grandfather," replied Ludwig; and, turning to me, he explained: "It seems strange to the boy, for the American never looks up from his work, even if seven trains of cars rush by within ten paces of him."

At the boundary line, Gaudens greeted us.

We halted there for a while. He came up to the carriage, stretched out his hand, and exclaimed, "Do you know me yet?"

"Certainly I do; you are Gaudens."

"Yes, it is easy to find me; from here around the corner, down to the Maiengrund is my district. I was in the revolution too, but I lied my way out. Yes, Ludwig, you have wandered about a great deal in the wide world. It is best at home, after all; isn't it? Is this your son?"

"It is."

"G.o.d bless him. And what a splendid wife you have!--What a pity about Ernst; he has such a good heart and is such a sensible fellow, and yet commits such wicked and foolish tricks. All I wish for is to have a place where I might have some little extra profits from fruit and gra.s.s by the road; nothing ripens here but pine cones."

When Wolfgang shook hands with him at parting, he said, "He has a soft hand; he cannot swing the pickaxe as you did when you were building your first road."