Das landhaus am Rhein. English

by Berthold Auerbach

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE BIRD OF NIGHT IS SHOT.

  Eric walked in silence with the ladies. The Mother spoke first,saying,--

  "I am glad that here, again, I have words of your father's to supportme. Nothing is more weakening and more to be avoided than repentance,"he often said; "the acknowledgment that we have made a mistake mustcome, quick and sharp, but then we must reconcile ourselves tocircumstances. I have deeply repented no matter how much good I may do,that I have bound myself to this family so firmly that any drawing backor loosening of the ties is extremely difficult. But now that it isdone, we must endeavor to make everything turn out for the best."

  The Aunt, who spoke but little, added how painful it was that peopleover whose lives hung some dark crime were banished, as it were, fromthe kingdom of the spirit; and must meet everywhere with terriblereminders.

  They went on again for a while in silence. High above, from themountain crest, they heard the screech-owl, the harbinger of extremecold, uttering his dreadful cry; which rose and died away with amingled tone of lamentation and of triumph. The party stood still.

  "Ah," said Eric, "what trouble Herr Sonnenkamp has taken to destroy allthe owls in the neighborhood; but he cannot do it."

  They walked on once more without speaking. Everything seems a sign anda portent to an excited mood. Hardly breathing the words aloud, themother said that Frau Ceres' emotion was incomprehensible. She hadthrown herself on her neck, sobbing and weeping.

  "I do not know how to explain it," she continued; "there is some deepmystery here, and it troubles me."

  Eric told them of what had passed among the men, and how Roland, to hisalarm, had spoken of Parker. It was plain that Sonnenkamp wished toerect into a moral system the existing relations of slavery.

  "Nothing more natural," answered the Mother. "Whoever stands in suchrelations all his life long, must make something for himself which hecalls moral principle. I cannot help thinking of your father again; hehas shown me a thousand times how people cannot bear to confess tothemselves that their life and actions are bad; they feel obliged toprop them up with good principles. Yet, as I said, we must be quiet, wehave one good young spirit to be led to noble ends; that is our part.Whence it sprang, or through what past life it may have come to us, isnot for us to determine. The past is our fate, the present, our duty.There's another saying of your father's; and now good-night."

  With a more composed mind, Eric returned to the villa. The owl hadflown from the mountain, and was now perched on the top of a tree inthe park, boldly sending forth its cry into the air. Eric heard it, andSonnenkamp heard it in the ante-room of his wife's chamber. There musthe, the father and husband, wait till his son came out, admittancehaving been refused him while his wife spoke to Roland. At last the boycame out, and his father asked him what his mother had said: he hadnever done so before, but now he felt obliged to do it.

  Roland answered that she had really said almost nothing; she had onlykissed him, and cried, and then asked him to hold her hand till shewent to sleep, and now she was sleeping quietly.

  "Give me Parker's book," said Sonnenkamp.

  "I haven't got it now; the Professorin took it away from me, and blamedme very much for having read it secretly, and before I was old enough."

  "Give my regards to Herr Eric; you have a better teacher than Ithought," said the father.

  Roland went to Eric's room, but he had not yet returned.

  The owl's cry was heard again from the tree-top in the park. Roland putout the light, opened the window, took his rifle from the wall, fired,and the owl fell from the tree. Roland ran down stairs, met Eric, andtold him that he had hit the bird; he then hurried into the park andbrought the creature in.

  The whole house was in alarm. Frau Ceres was awakened, and her firstcry was:

  "Has he killed himself?"

  Sonnenkamp and Roland had to go to her room again, to show that theywere alive. Roland took the dead owl with him, but his mother would notlook at it, and only complained of having been deprived of her sleep.

  The father and the son withdrew, and Sonnenkamp praised Roland forhaving brought down the bird so promptly and boldly.

  Eric went back to his mother, who must also have been awakened by theshot, and he found her still awake; she too had feared that it had beensome suicidal shot.

  The whole house was in a commotion, and it was some time before itcould be restored to quiet.

  In his pride at having shot the owl, Roland forgot everything else, andwent contentedly to bed and to sleep.

  But above in the castle, and below in Sonnenkamp's work-room, lightsburned late. Eric sat gazing at the flame, and strange forms movedconfusedly through his mind. There was Shakespeare's play, there wereall the people who had listened to it; but more than all he tried toenter into Roland's mind; and it seemed a fortunate thing to him, thatthe boy's love of sport had driven away all wondering speculation fromhis mind. Action, action alone makes free. Where is it, the greatall-liberating power? It does not show itself. Independent of our will,and of reflection, there is a great power in the Past and in the viewof God working in it, which alone can bring forth the deed. The deed isnot ours, but to be armed and ready is in our power.

  At last Eric found rest.

  Sonnenkamp paced up and down his great room like a prisoner. The lion'sskin with the stuffed head lay upon the floor, and the eyes stared athim, till he covered the head with a part of the skin. He asked himselfagain and again what he ought to do. This Herr Eric was teaching hisson to oppose him, and the Mother, who was always regaling them withsayings of her husband, preserved in spirit, forever calling up, asPranken says, her husband's wandering ghost, the departed ProfessorHamlet--no, she was a noble woman.

  But why had he taken upon his shoulders this beggarly family, so puffedup with their own ideas? He could not shake them off, withoutattracting attention. No, he would make use of them, and then throwthem away.

  At last, a happy resolution quieted him. We must have new surroundings,new diversions; and then, straight to the goal! The day after to-morrowwill be New Year's day. On New Year's day we will go to the capital.With this thought Sonnenkamp also found rest at last.