Short Stories From Austria- Ferdinand Von Saar

by Ferdinand Ludwig Adam

  He fell silent again, breathing restlessly.

  It was too much! This beam of knowledge, which suddenly flashed in him at this anxious hour, had a shattering effect. I had to hold onto myself so as not to burst into tears.

  “No! No! “He cried now, taking all his strength,” it can not be! These violets - you have to admit that yourself - because you know it - these violets are from her !”

  Who would have been so cruel to deny it?

  “Yes, yes,” said I, “I know, they are from her.”

  He brought the bouquet to his face with the last effort and kissed him. “He should be a talisman to me - but he did not protect me.”

  His hands sank, he was unconscious again. Immediately afterwards, the guard entered; I sent him around the serving doctor. This, a very young man with an intelligent, but somewhat harsh face, appeared immediately.

  “Well?” He asked, glancing at Burda.

  “He had come to,” I said.

  “Did he talk to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Reasonable?”

  “Quite reasonable,” I replied, not without embarrassment.

  “And now he is unconscious again?” He went to the bed, reached for the arm Burdas and felt the pulse. “Violent fever. This is the beginning of the end. By the way, who knows - maybe -”

  This “maybe” was not confirmed. That same night, the fever intensified, delirium entered; the next day, paroxysms followed - and when I entered the sickroom, Burda was a corpse. During the last sad preparations that were made in my presence, I searched everywhere for the bouquet of violets - but in vain: no one wanted to have seen him. He had apparently been thrown into the rubbish.

  In the end, chance, which played such an important part in Burda's life, once again asserted itself. Almost the same day, when three salutes thundered over the grave of the deceased, there was a message in the newspapers that Princess Fanny L... had become engaged to Prince A....

  But general discontent now turned against Schorff, and one even endeavored to enforce an honorary court case against the case. However, as the young Count Z... appeared involved in the matter, everything else was crushed and Schorff was merely transferred to Hungary to his regiment. Several years later he had disappeared from the lists of the army. I did not find out what happened to him.

  SELIGMANN HIRSCH

  FOREWORD BY THE PUBLISHER

  With the first print of the beginning of the previous novella, on 10 September 1887 the poet sent from Oslavan Castle near Eibenschiitz also the brouillon of ours to Princess Marie zu Hohenlohe, whom he had previously read to Blansko in the most intimate circle of Princess Salm and for the he asks for the strictest secret. If he writes of the manuscript that it is full of obscurities and inaccuracies concerning language and expression, then this may well be reconciled with the manuscript in the papers. Later, as so often, the poet made contradictory statements about the time of our novella. According to his report to Stefan Milow, she is said to have originated in Blansko in 1887/88, having already appeared after the report to Bettelheim in 1886. I have not heard of any previous pressure as the one of the autumn of 1888 in the “Destinies” (1889, pages 127-193), for which the original formed the still existing manuscript, which is already recognizable by the pagination as a center piece and whose text has undergone many changes during the printing, In the two-volume edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1897 (second volume, pages 83-127), the cipher G... was dissolved in Graz, but otherwise only slightly changed; the second edition of “Destiny” (no year, 1897) is based on the same sentence as this edition. In the second edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1904 (op. Cit.), Only orthography and punctuation have ever been modernized. which can already be recognized by the pagination as a centerpiece and whose text has undergone many changes during the printing process. In the two-volume edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1897 (second volume, pages 83-127), the cipher G... was dissolved in Graz, but otherwise only slightly changed; the second edition of “Destiny” (no year, 1897) is based on the same sentence as this edition. In the second edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1904 (op. Cit.), Only orthography and punctuation have ever been modernized. which can already be recognized by the pagination as a centerpiece and whose text has undergone many changes during the printing process. In the two-volume edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1897 (second volume, pages 83-127), the cipher G... was dissolved in Graz, but otherwise only slightly changed; the second edition of “Destiny” (no year, 1897) is based on the same sentence as this edition. In the second edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1904 (op. Cit.), Only orthography and punctuation have ever been modernized., 1897) is based on the same sentence as this edition. In the second edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1904 (op. Cit.), Only orthography and punctuation have ever been modernized., 1897) is based on the same sentence as this edition. In the second edition of the “Novellen aus Österreich” 1904 (op. Cit.), Only orthography and punctuation have ever been modernized.

  I.

  The season in the small health resort, where I had used the “cold water” on the advice of the doctor, came to an end. The defective copies of humanity, which are united here in hope and trust: older men with inherited evils, younger men of life with rotten juices, blood-stained, suffering nerves - and finally those who enjoy the summertime freshness and all sorts of sociable distractions in the graceful valley wanted, were gradually withdrawn. Even the last spa guests, who, except for me, who had arrived rather late, had been the most endured for a long time: a grumpy financial councilor, plagued by heavy congressions, constantly walking about without a headgear, sometimes without footwear; a somewhat dubious lady from Vienna, who displayed the remains of one-time beauty with a striking toilet; an old dude and bath habitué, who courted her - andLast but not least, there was an interesting esthete suffering from the spinal cord, who had been the subject of general female sympathy in his wheeled cart, but who had despaired me through uninterrupted literary discussions: these four steadfast men were now seized by the sudden, harsh autumn weather, the even a heavy snowfall joined them, unanimously escaping - and I stayed behind alone. Although now I was the spa locked in the nose, because the medical director of the institution had long since made all preparations to resume his winter practice in the state capital. But I cared little. I had enjoyed enough “rubbings” and “wraps,” as a result of which, to confess the truth, I also felt very well, and since I liked the area, I decided to spend some more time, a project that from the owner of the inn to the “Three Monarchs", where I was lodged, was greeted with great appreciation; At least one person remained to him, to whom he could put the bill after the usual bathing tariff.

  In addition, as I predicted, the premature harbingers of winter had followed the most glorious weather, a true late summer. Clear and blue the sky stretched out, the mountain heads shimmered in the mild sunshine, and linden warmth spread over the corridor and forest, which the latter recalled in his colorful adornments the words of the poet:

  “How softly caress the forest,

  His withered leaves to flatter him!”

  What a pleasure it was now to walk in solitude between the high beech and spruce trees! How rewarding to climb a hill, to look down into the picturesque village and into the wide mountain range, without being disturbed by outbreaks of popular delight! How pleasant to have breakfast on the terrace of the inn and instead of neighborly cup and spoon clapping along with obligatory bathing gossip only to hear the sound of the river, which meandered silvery-bright through green drifts below! It was as if only now the whole landscape emerged in full, unadulterated beauty. Even my room, which used to seem like the department of a dovecote, made me feel at home, since the house had become empty. To make it quite comfortable I also rented an adjoining smaller one - and so I finally found myself again in the comfortable state of being alone, which has always been the most desirable in my life.

  One late aft
ernoon-I used to eat at this time-I sat in the dining-room of the inn, drinking coffee and cigars, and immersed myself in the newspapers which had just arrived by post. The hanging lamp above the billiard, which stood in the middle of the room, had already been lit, and there was a cozy silence that was interrupted only occasionally when outside in the taproom, where a few innocent petty bourgeois sat together in rather taciturn sociability fresh glass was sought after and filled. Suddenly footsteps of an entrant were heard from there - and then a loud, rasping voice.

  “Ha! Ha! Still the old company together! Hello, master carpenter! And you too, Mr. Lederermeister! Welcome, Mr. Gamilschegg! (That was the shopkeeper of the place.) Glad to see you all again!”

  The speaker seemed not to stress that this greeting was apparently answered very meekly, and continued:

  “Even the pretty Cilli still here! (That was the gift girl, who incidentally performed the services of a waitress.) So still not married? And there will be a shortage of curative products, too, since the spa guests have left. (He laughed at the pun, very loud and complacent.) In the end, I'll have to help out, old boy! Or should your wife have cause for jealousy, Mr. Matzenoër? (But the newcomer seemed the diphthong order for the host hotel was meant, whose real name was Matzenauer au sometimes like o I hope not pronounce.)! - And what does it look like inside? Certainly everything in the same place!”

  Heavy, shuffling steps approached the open door that led into the dining room, and the robust, broad-shouldered figure of a man who stood on the threshold and spit out to himself.

  He might count about sixty years. His fleshy, reddened face, with bushy brows, strong cheekbones, and a plump, curved nose, was of a partially gray beard, a so-called collier grecframed. On his head, crooked and crumpled, sat a fantastic travel cap; a long fur-collared coat stood open at the front, revealing worn, unclothed slips, as well as a large bust pin of diamonds and a massive gold watch chain. In the short-fingered hand, which was overloaded with rings, he held an immense cigar top made of amber, on which he sucked, his feet in wide boots with cloth trimmings. The whole appearance had something grotesque and strange at the same time; the man looked like an Armenian or a Bulgarian.

  He cleared his throat and spat again, then stepped inside. When he caught sight of me-I was sitting quite aloof-he hesitated, but did not greet, though he kept an eye on me as he slowly turned the billiard. Then he sat down on a chair some distance from me and stared at me. This pattern became unpleasant to me; I turned aside.

  Now he got up again, reached down an illustrated journal hanging on the wall in the holder, and, after putting on a nasal clamp, leaned his back against the billiard to look at the pictures. Gradually, he also delved into the text. He moved his lips in the manner of many old people, as it were every word in silence. Gradually, however, he made a sound. At first it was a muffled murmur, then a vocal spell - at last it began to flow, as it were Coming to read in a loud voice. Only now did I realize the peculiar singing and drawn pronunciation of the Jews. His speech to others, which had something global on the whole, could not be deduced from this; but now that he was left to himself, the specific features emerged. Yet his voice, though not without a certain sonorous sound, had something so unpleasantly loud and penetrating that it went through my stomach and legs, causing all my nerves. I could not hold myself any longer and exclaimed, “Sir, I warn you that you are not alone!”

  He started and looked at me open-mouthed. Then, with a humble gesture, he unbuttoned his cap and stammered, “Excuse me.” But then he took on a noble stance and said condescendingly: “Would you like the newspaper?”

  “Thank you. I've already read the sheet. “I turned my back on him.

  I heard him put the journal aside, go back and forth a couple of times, as if with indecision, at the billiard-then sighed and crept cautiously out of the room, so much so that it was annoying for me to have started it that way.

  But outside in the taproom, he immediately resumed his loudest, most jovial tone. “Well, Mr. Matzenoër, how about dinner? Are there trouts?”

  “Unfortunately not, Herr von Hirsch. How should I now -”

  “Understand! Understand! No demand during this time! No guests! But a chicken will be able to capture my wife? What?”

  “Certainly, Herr von Hirsch.”

  “So a chicken! With salad! It will probably take a while - but I'm going up. Adieu, gentlemen! Goodbye!”

  These last words were in any case the table society, which, however, kept silent.

  When he had gone, I knocked on a glass, whereupon Herr Matzenauer appeared, who, as a true rural hotelier, served his guests himself as far as possible.

  “Tell me, who was that?” I shouted to him.

  “A Herr Hirsch from Vienna,” he replied with his usual mischievously frank smile. “Do not you know him?”

  “The devil too. Who should know all the deers! But what is he doing here?”

  “He is expecting his son, who is currently in Italy with family. They want to meet here, and then travel together to Vienna.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Yes, I do not know that. In about eight days.”

  “Where did you house him?”

  “At number 5”

  “What? So close to me?”

  “It was my intention anyway to give him number 12; but he wanted to have his former room.”

  “His former room?”

  “He's an old acquaintance. Two months ago he used the cure here; just when you arrived, he left. Where he is now, I do not know. Probably in Graz. At least he came from there now. But excuse me, I have to go to the kitchen.”

  Herr Matzenauer left smiling and left me in a very bad mood. Because this unexpected guest put me underIn all circumstances there was a certain neighborly intercourse, which threatened to bring me all the more out of my happy calm and mood, when the newcomer was not a particularly pleasant man. Finally raised me and went to my room. There I lit the lamp and picked up a book. But reading did not work; My thoughts kept drifting over to this Herr Hirsch, whom I also distinctly heard rumbling in his room; He probably unpacked his suitcases. And now I realized how thin the walls were and reminded me what I had suffered before under the different sounds that had come over to me from all sides. In mild despair, I went to the window and looked out to see if at least for today an evening walk was possible. Pathless darkness was over the area; So I was a prisoner. Then I remembered that I had some necessary letters to write, a business that I had postponed for too long. You can force yourself to do that - and I force myself. When I sat down at the desk, my neighbor left the room and stomped down the stairs. Now I had air - and soon I was so engrossed in my subject matter that I had only to reconsider the circumstances when, after about two hours, Mr. Hirsch, led by our landlord, returned.

  “Good night, Mr. Matzenoër!” He exclaimed. “Actually, the Cilli's duty was to light me up - but you're a cautious man!” He made a boisterous salmon salute.

  Mr. Matzenauer recommended. But Herr Hirsch walked up and down the room, shuffling some objects. Then he began to whistle an aria from Norma and sing in all keys. At last some rest came, and I thought I recognized that he was beginning to undress; really, after a while his heavy boots fell to the floor with a dull sound. Soon afterwards a loud, prolonged “Ah!” Of comfort followed, a sign that he had stretched out in bed. Quickly determined, I also prepared myself to sleep, slipped under the covers and blew out the light. I was already half asleep when suddenly startled by a horrible rattle; it was as if somebody was strangling next door. Should something have happened to the old man? - and already I wanted to jump out of bed. But my fear was groundless. For I soon realized that that rattling was only the prelude to such a powerful snoring as I have never heard in life. In all the modulations it sounded: soon as the jerky, steady gait of a sawmill, now in trembling, squashed gurgles and nostrils-now with such terrible, long-drawn rattle, as if it wanted to shake the silent, night-sleeping house to its foundation
s.

  II.

  In the morning it was clear to me: with this man I could not stay under a roof. The only question was, what to do? But had not I long ago decided to go to Graz? I had to supply myself with many necessities, especially with certain books, which I hoped to raise in that city. It occurred to me now that one of my relatives living there, who was to come from such proximity, was actually my duty. I could spend several days, could stay a week away - and by then Herr Hirsch would probably have left or at least not be here much longer. So to Graz! I hurried to put this saving thought to action with the use of the next train, dressed as my neighbor made audible slumbers,

  “What?” Cried this enter. “You want to leave? But not because of Mr. Hirsch?”

  “Indeed.”

  “You should not. Get to know him first. He does have his idiosyncrasies - but he is a very comfortable old man.”

  “He snores like a bear.”

  “You would get used to that soon. You could also take another room.”

  “That's too complicated for me,” I said shortly dismissively.

  “Well, I meant only. You understand how sorry I am to lose you; I was hoping that you would stay over New Year. By the way, if you really come back - -”

  “Certainly I will come back. I leave my things behind and take only the essentials. In any case, I would have gone to Graz for a short time, because I'm busy there. Therefore, do not mention anything to Mr. Hirsch; I do not want to hurt anyone.”

  After half an hour I left with plaid and suitcase.

  * *

  *

  When I returned, my first question was:

  “Well, is he gone?”

  “Still not,” replied Herr Matzenauer, embarrassed and visibly annoyed. “He has received a letter from his son in which he states that he intends to spend a few more days in Venice.”

  “That was predictable!” I exclaimed angrily. “But what do you have? You make a very sour face.”