Das landhaus am Rhein. English by Berthold Auerbach
CHAPTER IX.
DEMONSTRATION OF RESPECT FROM BELOW.
When a person is to be surprised in the evening by a demonstration ofrespect, what does he do in the morning?
Sonnenkamp must pretend not to notice anything, but nevertheless, hewatched the barometer very closely. It had been raining, and now themercury was rising; it is clearing off, and the proposed demonstrationwill come off beautifully. If one only knew beforehand the addresswhich would be made this evening, one could get ready a suitableresponse. Princes have the advantage of receiving beforehand anyaddress that is to be presented. Sonnenkamp, however, was confidentthat the occasion would suggest to him a suitable reply. He had neverregarded the honor that comes from men; he had honored himself, so faras there is any need of honor at all. Should he now feel any concernabout it? And by what was this respect obtained?
By money!
Had he not a superfluity of that? it was very evident that their eyeswould not be turned upon him.
He rode out at the usual hour, but he did not follow his usual route,and without being aware of it, he cast amiable glances upon all thepeople he met; he had a new accession of benevolent feeling. He rode tothe castle, and looked smilingly around, involuntarily fancying tohimself with what delight the knights formerly returned home from theirraids; they were strong, fierce, courageous men.
Not far from the ruins he turned aside into the wood, for he saw that alarge flag was floating over the battlements of the only completedtower, and there were no men visible. He wandered about in the wood,leading his horse by the bridle. He himself could not have told whatthere passed through his mind. Here walks a man in the wood, silent,alone, lost in thought, and this evening hundreds and hundreds of menwill honor him with cheers.
The Major lay in wait for him as he was returning, and insisted uponhis going home with him. The Major had the air of a groomsman, who hasmade every preparation for the wedding, and now, confident that all therequisite arrangements have been made, retires with the bridegroom intothe quiet apartment until he shall be summoned by the full band.
The dinner to-day was not so well served as usual, but Sonnenkamp tookno notice of it, not wanting to show that he knew of the preparationsfor the evening celebration.
In the afternoon there were present the neighbouring families of theCabinetsrath, the Justice and his wife, the Doctor, and the Major, whohad absented himself for a brief period and now appeared with all hisdecorations. Many others came also; even the young widow, the daughterof Herr von Endlich, was there, in her widow's weeds, having come tospend a few weeks in the summer with her parents in the country.Pranken had invited the best society in the vicinity, for he knew thatthis public recognition of his renown was very agreeable to HerrSonnenkamp. All were present, however, as if by accident, andSonnenkamp allowed this tacitly understood lie to pass.
Pranken was particularly attentive to the beautiful young widow, andmade the most of his position as son of the house. He was glad, as heonce caught Manna's glance, that she had an opportunity of perceivingwhat temptations and charms were offered to him; and the words which hemade use of in introducing Manna to the young widow seemed to him verywell chosen. He said,--
"You, gracious lady, and Fraeulein Sonnenkamp are just fitted to befriends; for Fraeulein Sonnenkamp has also a maturity of mind far beyondher years."
The young widow was very gracious to Manna, and Pranken left them bythemselves, for he had a great deal to attend to as son of the house.
He had given orders to the cook to have in readiness an ample provisionof roast meats and common wines, and he had looked out also for thecigars. Sonnenkamp knew everything that was going on, but pretended tosee and hear nothing.
When evening came, Pranken, in presence of all, requested thefather--such was the word he made use of emphatically--to remain in hisroom until he should be sent for. Very modestly, bashfully, andindulgently, Sonnenkamp betook himself to his room.
Long tables were now set in the courtyard, and food and drink werespread upon them, for the boats fastened together and gondolas werealready coming down from the upper Rhine, and music was heard in thedistance. The boats arranged themselves in front of the villa.
When it was dark, torches and parti-colored lamps, like a garland offire, were hung upon the vessels.
Sonnenkamp was alone in his room, and he was continually trying toimagine what sort of an address would be made to him, and he repeatedhalf aloud to himself his reply.
Approaching footsteps were now heard, and the Major and the Justicemade their appearance. The Major said that they would bear him companyfor a while, and the Justice added that it must certainly touch himvery deeply, for he would be obliged to be an actual witness of thegratitude which the hearts of so many people, struggling for the meansof living, felt towards him. Sonnenkamp expressed his thanks, andsmoked away quietly, holding his cigar very tenderly, as if he feltbashful even in its presence.
He begged his friends to excuse him for not being able to entertainthem; that he had lived so many years abroad, and now it almostoverwhelmed him to have found a home in so many staunch hearts; and hedid not deserve it, for he had given nothing but a little wretchedmoney. The Justice wanted to make a reply, but the Major nodded to himto omit it. In such moments, he whispered to him, a man must beexpected to make some extravagant speeches, and it is sufficient tolisten quietly to what he says; and besides, he saw that Sonnenkamp wasconning over the speech which he was soon to get off.
Several heavy footsteps were now heard, and Pranken said, opening thedoor,--
"This way, my men."
A deputation of boatmen entered, headed by Sevenpiper, and he beggedSonnenkamp to be so kind as to allow them to present to him a tributeof their grateful respect. With eyes cast down, and as if weighed downby the burden of honor heaped upon him, amidst the boatmen dressed intheir light-colored clothes, Sonnenkamp went down the steps into thepark.
Here a beautiful scene presented itself to his view. The boatmen werestanding in the boats illuminated by differently colored lights, andsinging in chorus a song which sounded on the distant air. Sonnenkampstood there with folded hands, looking straight before him; and then heseparated his hands, and rubbed the ring on the thumb of his righthand, which pained him. The song ended, and a cheer was called for inhonor of the great benefactor. The cannons roared, and the reports wereechoed and re-echoed from the mountains, so that it was proclaimedthrough the land as with a voice of thunder up the river and down.
Sonnenkamp returned his thanks in a brief but hearty speech; Rolandstood at his right hand and Manna at his left. He placed his right handupon the shoulder of his son, by this means hiding the thumb, and withthe other hand he took Manna's; he concluded with the request that thegood neighbors would be pleased to extend their kindness also to hischildren.
A lad, who was standing at the helm, wearing the clothes which Rolandhad sent him on his birthday, now called for a cheer for Roland; againthe cannons fired. Roland said to the Major: I cannot make a speech. Hewent down, and got on board the boat and shook hands with the men; andhe now perceived, for the first time, that Eric was on the boat. He satbehind the others and had assisted them in singing; the school-teacher,Fassbender, was sitting with him.
They all now came on shore. The boatmen, with a band of music, marchedthrough the park to the tables that had been spread for theirentertainment. Sonnenkamp immediately gave orders, and in a sharp tone,that the chairs should be removed.
"It isn't necessary for them to sit down," said he to Pranken; "I hadimagined you would have thought of that. Have them out of the way soon.You can't trust these common people, they soon get out of order. Letthe wine be taken on board the boats, and there they may get as crazyas they please."
At the first glass Sevenpiper proposed the health of Frau Sonnenkamp,and Sonnenkamp returned thanks in her behalf from the outside steps,and expressed his regret that his wife, on account of illness, couldnot be pre
They sat in a friendly circle in the grand saloon, and Sonnenkamplooked more used up than he had ever been before; his features lightedup, however, when the Major, who had a happy thought, said,--
"This must all be reported by a good hand in the newspaper! You,Comrade," turning to Eric, "you will certainly do it up finely. Not aword; you must."
Eric explained that he had no intention of refusing; he had only wantedto do of his own accord what the Major had suggested. The Major gavehim a violent grip of the hand, and did not drop it until Eric said,--
"If you squeeze my hand any longer, I shall not be able to writeto-morrow."
The Major went to Eric's mother, and commended him for having sung withthe people; he only regretted that Fraeulein Milch had not been aspectator of the beautiful celebration, but she was stiff-necked inregard to everything connected with the Sonnenkamp house. He could notimagine why it was; she was in every other respect so kind towardseverybody.
The Professorin knew why Fraeulein Milch stayed away, and it gave her asevere twinge, that she herself had to be present, and that her son wasto proclaim the fame of this man, who, in all that he did, had anentirely different end in view from what Eric imagined. She looked atthe man, at his children, and at the whole company, and could not helpthinking how it would be, if, instead of these salutes of cannon in hishonor that now echoed in the night, a wholly different report should beheard over mountain and valley.
The company at last departed. Roland and Eric accompanied the Motherhome. Roland was brimful of joy over this tribute of universal respect,and Eric took care to impress upon him again how great a happiness itwas, to be able so to make other people happy. Roland spoke of theintention of his father to set out walnut trees throughout the wholeregion, and complained that he himself seemed to be like Alexander ofMacedon, who found fault with his father, Philip, for leaving nothingfor him to do. The Mother and Eric rejoiced at this awakened zeal ofthe youth, and when he took leave, the Mother shed tears as she kissedhim.
"What was the matter with your mother, that she was so sad all theevening?" said Roland, as they were returning home.
"She has lost the key-note of joy," replied Eric.
That very night he wrote a spirited account of the benevolentInstitution, and the cheerful festivities, and sent it to ProfessorCrutius at the capital. The next day but one, the journal came to thevilla. Sonnenkamp thanked Eric for his well-written communication, andRoland begged,--
"Give me the paper; I will keep it for a perpetual remembrance. I am soglad that I am going to be a soldier. If I win battles, it will bepublished in the papers, and the scholars will be obliged to hear of myname, and of my deeds, just like those of Miltiades, and Washington,and Napoleon."
There was another communication published in the official gazette, andPranken did not deny that he was the author of it. What Eric hadwritten was every way fine, but this communication came to the eyes ofthe Prince, and so was of far greater importance, and soon showed itsresults.