Withered Leaves - Volume I Part 4
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Volume I Part 4

"Halt, halt," Blanden smilingly interrupted the eccentric Doctor, "You cannot thus, with one breath, cast existing customs to the winds."

Doctor Kuhl did not feel himself beaten; he pushed his chair uneasily back and forward, sprang up, and with arms folded, defiantly continued to force his worldly wisdom upon his companion. Kuhl was known along the sh.o.r.es of the Baltic Sea by his Herculean strength. He was a preserver of life by profession; wherever misfortunes loomed, he was present. He caught the reins of runaway horses; where any one was, voluntarily or involuntarily, near death in the water, Doctor Kuhl appeared as a guardian angel. He was an excellent swimmer, and when the flag hung out in the sea-baths, forbidding people to bathe because a storm stirred up the billows of the East Sea, Doctor Kuhl was sure to hazard a conflict with the waves, as the only living creature who at once defied the tempest and bathing-police. By means of all these valiant deeds, he had become more popular than any other person, and even in society his extreme views, of which he made no secret, were pardoned. He was simply considered eccentric, and public opinion judged him by an exceptional standard.

"Look here, dear fellow," he continued his lecture, "you know both the Frulein von Dornau, Olga and Ccilie; may heaven's and their mother's anger punish me! I love them both at once, and with the finest apothecary's scales could not discover the least preponderance of either in the balance."

"And what, then, do these ladies say to your simultaneous love?"

"I believe I have already somewhat converted them to my theory, even although the old Adam or the old Eve in them still rebels against it.

On days so full of vigour as this, when the ocean glistens in the sunshine, and a fresh breeze blows. .h.i.ther from the north, when the feeling of strength fills my breast, then Olga is my calendar's saint.

She possesses something fresh, natural, voluptuous in all her being, something Juno-like, and even the large eye is not wanting, which old Homer eulogises with such a base comparison. I will not say for a moment that a large mind speaks from that large eye, but Nature has made everything abundant about her. She reminds me of hotels, in which everything is arranged with the greatest comfort; nor must large plate gla.s.s windows be wanting there, either."

"That is, indeed," interposed Blanden, "quite a new form of praise of the fair s.e.x, and our poets might go to school to you."

"She is purely sensual life," continued the Doctor, without letting himself be disturbed by this interlocutory remark. "All nature, instinct, little knowledge, no reason; she does not raise any special opposition even to my most daring views. It is quite different with Ccilie: she is my calendar's saint for intellectual days; she is slighter, more refined; she has something Lacertian about her, that escapes one easily, that one would always grasp anew; everything about her has form, body and mind. She argues with me, she refutes, her eyes scintillate, and yet in the midst of the conflict she seems suddenly to lay down her arms; if her delicate lips do weave the most ingenious arguments wherewith to conquer me, the charm of submission lies already in her eyes. She is a Penelope; her mind weaves a web, that her heart ever again unravels. Olga acts by the charm of nature's body, Ccilie by the charm of the spirit. I bear both in my heart; I stand as closely to the one as to the other. Shall I sacrifice one part of my being, in order to do homage to exclusive love?"

"We have," said Blanden, "no social forms in which a dual love could be lastingly secured; it is indeed a daring, yes, reprehensible innovation."

"Not at all," replied the Doctor. "It is the greatest secret of our society but certainly is only seldom spoken of; yet sometimes when you open books of the history of literature, in the lives of gifted men, you will find pages on which it is legibly written! Think of Brger, of Doris and Molly; think of Schiller, of Charlotte and Caroline. How candid are the confessions of our great poets! I do not flatter myself I am the first who makes this great discovery, but I utter it fearlessly; this is Nature's law, which society outlaws, while it exercises its secret dominion undisturbedly."

"That may hold good during the stormy impetuous period of life," said Blanden. "I have experienced it in every quarter of the globe. Now I long for tranquillity, for restriction; I know that now in it alone can I find happiness, and I have no longing to lead either an Olga or a Ccilie home, but a sweet, modest maiden who has not yet developed into independent womanliness, who is still capable of being formed, and growing up to twine herself around me."

"The old fable," replied Doctor Kuhl, scoffingly; "as if ever a girl was formed or changed by a man! Girls are the pure elementary spirits, but what they are, they are from the beginning. An elf will never become a nymph, and if one lives in the water and has a fish's tail, no power in the world will make her into a salamander with a sparkling golden crown."

"All the same," said Blanden, "I shall take an elf, and be satisfied with it."

"Then you have probably already found the one beauty which can make you happy?" asked the Doctor, inquisitively.

"Indeed, I almost think it," replied Blanden. "Lately, in the forest, I made the acquaintance of a beautiful wood-maiden, and I shall soon renew it in Warnicken."

"Well, you have my blessing," said the Doctor, with annoyance, crushing the felt hat, which in the meantime had again become a plaything in his hands, violently on to his head.

At this moment, the pair of sisters walked past the friends; Olga and Ccilie came out of the sea, and, as is customary at bathing places, let their long wet, nymph-like hair flow down to dry in the sun. They both had splendid figures; the one fuller, the other slighter.

The Doctor greeted them with an eager bow, and soon found himself sailing in the wake of the elder sister, while the younger one, with a slight side movement sent a whole broadside of fiery glances upon him.

Blanden meditated over the peculiarity of those singular fellows who seek to bring everything into a system, of which they at last become the slaves. A hand was suddenly placed upon his shoulder, and his neighbour, Freiherr von Wegen, looked at him good-temperedly, as he turned round--

"There, I have found you at last; I sought you in vain at the Chief Forester's."

"Well, and what news do you bring me?" Blanden asked the fair, affectionate friend of his childish and youthful days, who, since his return, had become his indispensable a.s.sistant.

Wegen took a chair, lighted his cigar, beckoned to the waiter, and then began in an important manner--

"It is fatal, really fatal!"

"What then?" asked Blanden.

"That stupid story of former days!"

"Well."

"You know that I travel about as your agent, from estate to estate, in order to ensure your election to the Diet, and I am a commercial traveller who is not afraid of being seen. I advance all your qualifications--first-rate recommendations, clever, great traveller, wealthy, undoubted possessions! So far I met with no dispute.

Liberal--then the symptoms of questioning begin. 'Liberal?' says Oberamtmann von Schlhitten, whom I sought in his sheep-fold, while he examined his breed of sheep, one of the few which can exist in Silesia and Australia--'well as yet he has given no proof of it.' 'Only first elect him, and the proofs will follow,' replied I, prompt to serve.

'Now, from what I know about it--he belonged to the religious set--that is a species which I cannot endure, wolves in sheep's clothing!' He had by this time arrived at the princ.i.p.al ewe, whose fleece he allowed to glide through his fingers with satisfaction. I utilised this moment of tranquil delight, and said--'That was in his youth, he has changed.'

'Any one who changes his colours so quickly,' said the Oberamtmann, disagreeably, as he released the mother sheep with a loud smack, 'is not fitted for a representative! They stand bold to their colours!'"

"Well," said Blanden, "we will generously relinquish that vote."

"Yes, if it were the only one! I went to the wealthy Milbe of Kuhlw.a.n.gen, the same who once announced in the newspapers; always of Kuhlw.a.n.gen, but seldom in Kuhlw.a.n.gen--that man is every inch a peasant, but he is a splendid humorist; he was just looking at a horse, that had arrived fresh from Trakehner; I went straight to my point. 'Blanden,'

asked he, 'is that the same Blanden who was mixed up in that ugly Knigsberg affair?' 'That was ten years ago,' replied I. 'That is all the same, the mark has been burnt into him like this Trakehner stud-brand.' He also invited me to a good breakfast, that I enjoyed thoroughly, although it was not without reluctance that I broke bread and drank wine at the table of a man who turned so deaf an ear to my proposals."

"Dear friend," said Blanden, "in politics one must accustom oneself to failure."

"But not when it comes thick as hail," replied Wegen, as he struck the table with his riding-whip, and with his left hand angrily curled his fair moustache. "There was Hermann von Gutskhnen, Sengern von Laerchen, they only knew that you are a large and rich landed proprietor, and will give you their votes; there they live upon their sixty acres, and plough their manors themselves; they are homely people who understand nothing of the world."

"Now I know, according to your views, where I must seek my supporters."

"Graf von Donahoff," Wegen continued his report, "received me very pleasantly; he belongs to those n.o.bles, about whose party-leaning I was still uncertain; he is connected with the Liberals by marriage.

'Blanden,' cried he, 'surely a pious man, one of those who remained true to his creed and defied calumny; we Conservatives should have a good supporter in him!' I hardly dared to undeceive the man with silvery locks. And yet it must be done! 'A Liberal, then?' exclaimed he, 'that is inconsolable! If that species now grows wild here in our province, well so be it; but when men who have drank at our refreshing well of salvation, are so fickle as to go over to the camp of the unrighteous, one could shed burning tears!' And he folded his hands, yet what was worse, he poured me out no more of that exquisite Madeira which stood upon the table; for he had discovered that I, too, wandered upon the paths of the G.o.dless, and sat amongst the seats of the scornful; I took leave very dejectedly, and disappeared as though the earth had swallowed me up."

"Oh, I know--a sister of his formerly belonged to our sect; she, too, in the meanwhile has become a Liberal, since she married, and has seceded disgracefully."

"Yes, the women, dear Blanden," said Wegen, shrugging his shoulders, "the women, you are really in their black books! Baron von Fuchs is a very sensible man, he recognises your mental superiority, is ready to give you his vote, and has only a smile for the reproaches which are brought against you on all sides. He invited me to dinner. I took my place triumphantly beside the lady of the house, who helped me liberally. We had just arrived at the joint--no, it was at the pudding--now I recollect it quite accurately, when the conversation turned upon you. 'Only to name such a man,' cried the Baroness, angrily, and threw her knife and fork upon the table. I received no more of the delicious wine-sauce. 'Well, what more is there?' said the Baron, as with great equanimity he poured himself out a gla.s.s of Johannisberger, 'we are going to return him to the a.s.sembly!' Then the storm broke loose. 'That wicked man, that hypocrite--no Adalbert, if you do that!--I do not trouble myself about your politics, I never have troubled myself about them; but if you make your a.s.sembly into a Sodom and Gomorrah, all we must protest who have been brought up with proper principles, and who know what morality demands! You at least shall not give your vote to Blanden!' and she sprang up from the table, the tart did not go round again, the most beautiful dessert remained untouched.

The Baron, as far as appearances went, did not allow himself to be disturbed, but yet he was put out, and I am convinced that she will conquer in this domestic war, because she is a woman of principle--and the devil must manage all such as her."

"Our prospects seem bad," said Blanden, after a pause, while he sat lost in meditation, "I shall feel it most painfully if my new wish to take to active life should meet with insurmountable obstacles, just because I feel the power within me to enter upon new paths, because I have the earnest desire to break with my past, because I would as it were grasp the firm sh.o.r.e, I should not like to be hurled back into the breakers."

"Dear friend," replied Baron von Wegen, "all is not lost as yet! The Landrath is on your side, and he commands a considerable number of electors, but you must take decided steps yourself."

"And which?" asked Blanden.

"You must return to your castle; the rebuilding of the one wing will be ready in a few days; you must pay visits yourself amongst your neighbours; you are a kindly fellow at heart--and that after all is the princ.i.p.al thing; before it all the _on dit_ disappear, what people say and what they think! Then invite them all to a sumptuous dinner, and they will come, be convinced! You are still one of the most respected landowners, whom they will not dare to scorn. But a good dinner opens people's hearts, I know it! When once the _veuve Cliquot_ is uncorked, and she exercises her magical influence, then people allow themselves to be persuaded to anything, to which otherwise they do not show the slightest inclination. Then you can hold a little electioneering speech. You are a master of oratory, and you will see, even those obstinate von Schlhitten and Kuhlw.a.n.gen will pledge themselves to follow your standard. A good dinner is not only the most agreeable thing that there is--but also under certain circ.u.mstances the most necessary! I know it!"

"You may be right, dear Caspar--"

"For heaven's sake do not address me by my Christian name, I hate it! I always think of the Free-shooter and the 'Wolf's schlucht,' when I hear myself spoken to by it, or what is still much worse, of the 'Kasperle Theatre.'"

"But before I go home, I must take three or four days more leave."

"What for?"

"I wish to go across to Warnicken; I have discovered a treasure there, that I must inspect more closely; perhaps I shall adorn my castle with it."

"Good heavens--a love adventure!" said Wegen, humming--

'_Reich mir die hand mein Leben_!

_Komm 'auf mein Schloss mit mir_!'