Das landhaus am Rhein. English by Berthold Auerbach
CHAPTER II.
DRILLING UNDER FIRE.
The sparrows were twittering with one another on the roof, but thehack-drivers were chattering still more busily before the HotelVictoria, when, in the morning, Sonnenkamp's horses and double-seatedcarriage waited before the porch of the hotel.
The little hump-backed driver, who always led the talk, now held thefirst place, and naturally spoke first. He informed his companions thatto-day Sonnenkamp was to be made a count, yes, perhaps even a prince,for he had more money than a prince. Unluckily, the first hack was justthen taken by a stranger, and the little driver deeply regretted thathe could not be on hand when Herr Sonnenkamp was coming out. Herecommended the others to give the Count a cheer when he was gettinginto the carriage.
But it was a long while before Herr Sonnenkamp came down out of thehotel, for he was walking up and down the spacious hall, clad in black,with white cravat, and with the order on his breast. The Cabinetsrathwas walking by his side; he said that he could well understand thatHerr Sonnenkamp should be very much excited, but that he would be onlyso much the more easy in mind at noon. Sonnenkamp was all the timebiting his lips, and more than once changed color.
"You are well, are you not?" asked the Cabinetsrath.
Sonnenkamp said yes; he could not say that that bare thumb of his wasso painful. When he was not looking at the hand, he had a sensationas if the thumb were swelling up into a monstrous size, and thepulse-beats in it felt like the blows of a red-hot hammer.
He examined his hand frequently, and felt comforted when he found thathe was suffering under a delusion.
Lootz came. Sonnenkamp took him aside, and he informed him thatProfessor Crutius regretted that he was unable to pay him a visit,being obliged at that moment to set about preparing the eveningedition.
"Did you bring the morning edition with you?"
"No, it will not be issued until eleven o'clock."
"Why didn't you wait for it? it is nearly eleven now."
"I thought that you might want something else, sir, before going up tothe castle."
"Very well, give me my overcoat."
Joseph was standing near at hand all ready with it; Sonnenkamp tookleave of Roland and Pranken, who were going to ride out with somecompanions; he requested them to be back at the hotel at twelve o'clockprecisely.
For the last time the commoner Sonnenkamp descended those steps, toascend them next as a Baron. The Cabinetsrath walked by his side.
When he entered the carriage below, the hack-drivers, as they had beenrecommended, wanted to raise a cheer, but they could not bring it out:it was of no use to try without the dwarf who knew how to lead off;they stood all together in a knot staring at Sonnenkamp, and took offtheir hats.
Sonnenkamp acknowledged the salutation most graciously.
The Cabinetsrath regretted that he could not go with him; he simplyordered the coachman to stop before the great gate of the palace.
Pranken left Roland alone, as the Ensign had promised to call for thelatter when he got back from the drill ground. With an unusually quiettone and modest manner, Pranken bade good bye until they met again attable, for Sonnenkamp had ordered an elegant little lunch for four,himself, his son and son-in-law, and the Cabinetsrath.
Sonnenkamp dashed along through the streets of the city; the people onfoot stood still. Many who knew him saluted him, and many too, who didnot know him; for a foreign prince might sit in such a carriage, anddeference must be paid to a foreign prince.
The horses trotted on gaily, as if they knew to what honor they werecarrying their master. Sonnenkamp lay back in the carriage, and playedawhile with the order upon his breast. This token gave him anencouragement; for why was he apprehensive in taking the second step,when he had felt no apprehension in taking the first, and no danger hadyet made its appearance?
The carriage drove past a building with many windows. Sonnenkamp knewit. It was the editing and printing establishment of Professor Crutius.Knots of men were standing in front of it, some of them reading a copyof the paper; they looked up and nodded, as the handsome carriagepassed by. Sonnenkamp would have liked to stop to get a paper; he hadalready grasped the check-string, intending to gives Bertram the signalto stop, but he dropped it again.
Why is this? Why is he so anxious to get the newspaper to-day? Ah, menare better off in the desolate wilderness, where not one human being isto be seen, where there are no newspapers nor anything of the kind. SoSonnenkamp thought to himself, as he drove through the lively capitalto the palace of the Prince.
A jolt suddenly startled him; the carriage was stopped. Around thecorner, a battalion of soldiers was approaching with loud music. Thecarriage had to stop until the soldiers had all passed by, and itrequired some effort to keep the horses in check, on account of thenoise.
Now they were all past; Sonnenkamp looked at his watch. It would be aterrible thing if, at the very outset, he should have missed theappointed minute, and have been obliged to excuse himself to thePrince. Are you then so far a prisoner? Are you then so bound to thevery minute?
He was almost ready to call out to the coachman to turn back; he wouldhave nothing to do with the whole affair.
Again he was angry with himself at being so powerfully excited withoutcause. He let down the carriage window, took off his hat, and wasdelighted to feel the refreshment of the cool breeze.
Bertram proudly drew up the carriage before the grand portal. Both thesentinels stood still; they were waiting to see whether they shouldshoulder or present arms. The carriage door was opened, the sentinelsremained motionless, for only a man in black clothes, with a singleorder, stepped out.
Joseph accompanied Sonnenkamp to the large high-studded porch, whichwas white and richly ornamented with stucco work. At the foot of thestep were two handsomely chiselled marble wolves; they looked atSonnenkamp in almost a friendly way; and really, everything looked assplendid as could be imagined. Sonnenkamp made a sign to Joseph that hemight give something, suitable to the occasion to the lackeys inattendance here; he had provided him with an uncounted handful of goldfor the purpose; he could trust Joseph.
The porter in grand livery, with broad hat and gold-tipped staff, askedwhom he should announce.
Sonnenkamp and Joseph looked at each other in embarrassment. Joseph wasdiscreet enough to leave the answer to his master, and Sonnenkamp didnot know whether he ought to say Baron von Lichtenburg or HerrSonnenkamp.
Pooh, what did it signify giving the old name to this lackey? This nameappeared to him so repugnant, thrown off for good like a worn-out shoe;it was so hard to understand how he had borne it so long, without beingashamed of it before the whole world. Finally Sonnenkamp answered withevident condescension:--
"I have been ordered to wait upon His Highness."
He felt badly to be obliged to use the word "ordered" beforeJoseph--he, Sonnenkamp, had been "ordered"--but he wished to show thefootman at any rate that he was acquainted with court phraseology.
The footman pressed a telegraphic bell; a valet dressed in blackappeared at the head of the staircase, and said that the Herr Baron hadbeen expected for two minutes, and must make all the haste possible. Itseemed almost as if an avenging angel from heaven were announcing herebelow some shortcoming or transgression.
With trembling knees Sonnenkamp stumbled up the carpeted staircase; hehad to draw on his gloves on the way up, saying silently to himselfmeanwhile:--
"Keep yourself easy now."
At the top of the staircase a second valet appeared, white-haired, inshort black knee-breeches and high black gaiters, and said:--
"Do not hurry, Herr Sonnenkamp, His Highness has not returned yet fromthe drill ground."
Sonnenkamp felt like knocking the first valet down for having put himinto such a state of anxiety. He regretted that he had commissionedJoseph to give every one of the servants a piece of gold; he hoped thatJoseph, after all, was a rogue, and would keep the gold for himself,and
The white-haired valet conversed freely with Sonnenkamp, and informedhim, that he had been with Prince Leonhard in America; it was a hatefulcountry, without order and without manners; he thanked God, when he gothome again.
Sonnenkamp did not know how he ought to take this freedom; but the bestway was to put up with it silently. He listened with assenting nods,and thought to himself, What a way they have of doing things here inthe palace! It is just as if the people in it didn't walk on theirfeet; everything is so mysterious; as if something was going on everymoment that had nothing at all in common with the life of other men.
The white-haired valet requested Sonnenkamp to sit down while hewaited.
Sonnenkamp did sit down, and drew off his right-hand glove; he wantedto be able to do it without difficulty when the time came to unglovethat hand for the oath; and then he presented some gold pieces to thewhite-haired valet.
The experienced valet withdrew, bowing, to the end of the room; he knewthe dread that was felt by those who are not accustomed to the court,and would leave the man to compose himself.
Sonnenkamp sat still; again those wild pulsations began to hammer awayin his thumb; he called for a glass of water.
The white-haired valet called to another, this one to a third, and thecall for a glass of water went far into the distance.
A very old clock that was standing on the mantle-piece struck thequarter hour. Sonnenkamp compared his watch with it, and found that itwas very slow; he determined in future to set his watch, by the clockin the palace.
Sonnenkamp was alone: and yet he little thought that through the clearedges of the ground glass in a door behind him, two eyes were fastenedupon him, and that those eyes were rolling savagely in their sockets.
Just as the glass of water made its appearance, it was announced thatHerr Sonnenkamp might enter. He could not even once moisten his lips.
He entered the large hall, where it was bright daylight; but hestaggered back, for directly opposite to him hung an engraving, a workof Alfred Rethel's. A strong-limbed man with the murderer's knife stillin his hand, bending and stooping, was making his escape over a heath;the bushes on the road were blown aside by the wind, and above thefugitive hovers a supernatural shape, holding a sword, with the pointdownward, directly over the head of the fleeing criminal.
Sonnenkamp rubbed his eyes.
What is the picture here for? Or is it only a creation of his ownfancy?
He did not have time to decide this matter for himself, for just thenthe Prince entered noiselessly from behind the curtain of the door,over the thick heavy carpet. He was dressed in full uniform, with abroad band thrown over the right shoulder and across his breast. Hecarried himself very erect, and merely nodded slightly. He badeSonnenkamp welcome, and excused himself for having kept him waiting.
Sonnenkamp bowed low, without uttering a word.