by Ludwig Tieck
CHAPTER VI.
The father went up to his daughter, who now awaked from her refreshingsleep. The little girl, in a flood of tears threw herself into the armsof the new comer, and was never weary of kissing his hands and cheeks:it seemed as if it were a necessity for her to indulge this once, in anunrestrained declaration, and expression of her love. "Man, indeed,"thought the Lord of Beauvais within himself, "has nothing else butthese poor tokens, or the action of alleviating sorrow, andadministering food, clothing the naked, or affording warmth to thefreezing: perhaps it may be that in a future state spirits interminglein love." When both were more composed, the father said, "Eveline, youhave ever been a sensible child, but now you have an opportunity ofshewing it in deed for my safety; and for your own also. Never must aword escape your lips here of our former residence of my friends, or ofyour brother. When we are both quite alone, you may then talk of thesethings, but below, or when anybody is present, you must ever be thelittle cousin of our good hosts. Be therefore in company ratherperfectly quiet, or try to accommodate your behaviour for a short timeto these people; for your father's life depends on our not beingdiscovered and spied out in this place of concealment." "My dear, mypoor father," said Eveline, "all this will not be difficult to me, nowthat you are with me again. You know well how our great Hector alwayslooked up to my brother, or to Frantz, and from a sign understood, whenhe was to go, to stay, to lie down, or to eat; the animal has neveronce made a mistake: Now, dear papa, thus will your little pet dogattend to the slightest sign from your dear eyes and understand, andconceive everything. I was not allowed to speak of many things in thepresence of my brother, many things that Martha related I was unable totell you, because you were angry with my nurse formerly; one must,indeed, learn from childhood to suit one's self to the world. But shallwe see Frantz and Hector again? my brother too? ah, it has ever floatedin my mind, that he would one day become downright godless; for no goodcan come of it, when men approach God as it were too rudely."
The father descended again, and was very much surprised to find a newlyarrived guest in his host's room. Old Godfred was at that momentemployed in dressing two deep and dangerous wounds in the head of ayoung lad, who seemed scarcely fourteen years of age. "See now,cousin," cried the talkative Barbara, turning towards him, "as I toldyou, our Sam-Rocious, as the old gentleman called him, a short timeago, is again seized with a vertigo, a real vagabond, as they call suchdeserters; who asks here in the village after such and such an one,after a coach and strange travellers, and immediately our dealer inherbs there brings him to our house, because he has something to cure,which is once for all his greatest passibility." The Counsellor ofParliament listened not to the chattering, but examined with thegreatest attention the handsome countenance and noble expression of thestranger, who seemed to be yet almost a boy. This sight attracted himthe more, as the supposition occurred to him, that this wounded youthmight probably be that Martin of whose astonishing fearlessness thedoctor had spoken. Emotion and gratitude mingled therefore in thosefeelings of sympathy which drew him towards the sufferer, and he onlywaited for the others to retire to interrogate him. The surgeon Godfredseemed dissatisfied at the appearance of the wounds, he comforted theyouth, and cut his short brown hair still shorter, and stroked hishandsome head with tender sympathy. "The Lord has blessed us withmoney," exclaimed he aloud, "it shall benefit you, not only thee, I wasgoing to say, dear old cousin, but this young patient here as well. Iwill run directly to the town and fetch better food, for wounds mustnot be neglected by any means."
A gaunt, haggered-looking man, in a tattered uniform entered, thesurgeon sprang joyfully to meet him, and shook his meagre hand soheartily, that his long arm quivered with emotion, and a grim smile ofaffability passed over his pale face, under a large hat, which he stillkept on. The new comer who now perceived the Counsellor, took off hishat, and said: "I did not know, gossip, that you had strangers."
"Not exactly strangers," immediately replied dame Barbara, preventingher husband's reply, "but a dear cousin of ours, Mr. Peter Florval, whopossessed a pretty house and garden below there in the fruitfulCamargue. The antichrists, the rebellious Camisards have plundered andburnt every thing, and it was with difficulty that he saved himselfwith our little cousin; he will now remain here contenting himself withour poor house until better times." The stranger drew near, and saidsolemnly, while he extended his hand to the Counsellor with a certainmajestic air; "Venerable Mr. Peter Florval, be but at peace and let notyour spirits flag, these times will pass quickly and in less than ayear you will be happy again. I have had dreams, which have predictedthis and still more to me, and my dreams never deceive, as I know howto give them the right interpretation. The abominable Cavalier hasappeared to me, I could have painted him; behold: a head taller thanmyself, broad, muscular as a hercules, moustaches that he might havetwisted twice round his whole head, which he did too, several times, tomake himself look still more terrible. He came up to me, he had aguard's uniform in his hand: sergeant, I shall be once more under thebanners of the royal guards, and that shall be the sign, that this daytwelve months I shall wear this uniform, and then peace will be in theland, for without my supernatural giant-strength the rebels would beunable to do anything, and would be obliged to surrender. RememberGerard Dubois, my good Peter, when the thing comes to pass."
Without paying particular attention to the speaker, the surgeon hadagain devoted himself to the invalids for whom he had also made up abed in the hay loft. He looked after the dog too once more, then gavehis hand to the Counsellor and fetched his hat and stick. "I will gowith you," said Gerard, "if you do not botanise, for I cannot endurethat cursed stooping and mountain-climbing." On learning that the walkwas only to the neighbouring market-town, he took leave, rejoiced tohave an opportunity of accompanying his gossip.
"Look you, dear cousin," commenced the old dame, immediately again,"that great herculus is also the cause, that my old man will not beanything as long as he lives. He seduces him fearfully to idleness,because he himself has nothing to do. He has been formerly a dreampeterin the royal guards, but as he was weak at the chest, he obtained hisdischarge and a pension, and with a small fortune, he plays thenobleman here, and gives himself such intolerable airs, that headdresses almost every body with familiarity. He was so enamoured withblowing, that they were obliged to pull the dreampet forcibly out ofhis mouth, for he is phthisical, properly hictical, as my old man callsit, for he looks wicked enough for it. Now the great beast stalks abouthere, and no one can bear him, because he is so very haughty andmoreover wearisome and quite ennuiyant when he speaks of hisforefathers. My good calf, however, will suit him, he might easilyspeak and listen to him in his leisure hours, and often may be thinkingof other things at the same time; but this is not the case, he hasnothing to think of, and is delighted when the bully goes on with hisgasconading to him. Only think, cousin, because he is not permitted toblow any more, he whistles, or lisps a little with his tongue all hisold dreampeter airs for hours together into my husband's ears; when hetells of campaigns, at times, with his mouth screwed up, he imitatesthe sounds of appelle, and retreat, the attack, every thing; or hebeats it with his long stork-fingers on the table, which then is torepresent the dulcimer or the harpichord, and thus does he play theharpichord as it is called before my old husband the live-long day andhe talks of x sharp and z soft, and crosses and stories of fughes andpassages, such gibberdish, that one might loose one's senses, lookingat these two fools wasting their time. The lanky fellow frequentlyassists in searching, for herbs, and makes out of old rags a lineamentfor wounds, or cooks a mixture, and syrup quackery, and as they arealmost always together, he seduces my old husband away from me. Theywill no longer suffer the long Urian in the public-house, because hedrives away all the guests with his blowing and harpchord playing, eventhe common people are wise enough for that, my Godfred alone suffershimself to betaken in. But this quick dreampeter-blower is an arrantrogue. He tices my old husband out of his
chimistical experiments andbegins to doctor patients, but he principally makes use of symphonies,which besides is much easier when one is once in the way of it, and thesilly peasants therefore begin to have faith in the spoil-trade. Whatdoes a physician know of symphony; books and study appertain to that,and no little dreampeters. Moreover, he is for ever telling his stupiddreams. The times are so very bad, because now children, and oldpeople, women and maid-servants, almost every one in the country, whenthey at once gave up the faith, began with prophecying and predictionto prepare misfortune; formerly my husband was asked this thing andthat, he also looked at the hands to see whether they would get richhusbands and so forth; he drew their line of life longer, once even hecast the Hurenskorp of a right noble lady, yonder in Florac, for he wasmuch renowned at that time; but since this new-fashioned superstitionhas arisen, hardly any one inquires after him, all tell their ownfortunes, or run to the unbelieving children, and what can theseurchins know of philosophy or chiromantic and particularly of thestars; as if one only needed to take a horn in the mouth in order toobtain any knowledge of astrology and of all the abstract or dried-upsciences; for which purpose a great deal more is required." The olddame would have still run on, if she had not thought that she heard apot boiling over in the kitchen; she ran therefore hastily out, leavingthe Counsellor of Parliament alone with the young man. "My son," beganthe Lord of Beauvais, "could you be the same of whom a friend of minehas spoken to me? perhaps your name may be Martin?"
"It is so," said the youth; approaching nearer and seizing theCounsellor's hand, over which he bent with deep emotion.
"And this blood."----
"It is mine, mingled with that of your son." "Thanks then," exclaimedthe father and embraced the youth much affected. "You know then who Iam?"
"Yes," replied Martin, "in the fight your son pointed you out to me;Vila spoke of you, and now, my honoured sir, as I have discovered you,as I enjoy such kind care here, and as I shall soon be cured, grantthat I may remain by you, and be your servant. Your domestic householdis far from you, flown, dead, your tender child requires moreaffectionate, more gentle attendance, than these people here, with alltheir good will, are able to bestow. I shall be wretched, if you rejectmy petition."
The Counsellor gazed long on the youth's dark, sparkling eyes. "Mydear, beloved son," said he then, "I am indeed bound to you by thedearest ties; oh, ought I not call it friendship cemented with blood?How shall I command you, as you are here the guest of our benevolenthost? I dare not now have any attendants, I must conceal myself, I mustappear as a poor man of inferior condition. Would you wish to belong tome, so that I might put full confidence in you, you must give mefurther knowledge of yourself. Who are you? from whence come you? yourappearance is too refined and delicate for service to be your vocation;this small, nobly-formed hand has not yet been hardened by any labour,your pale face has never yet been exposed to the inclemencyof the seasons; tell me then what is your parentage, your name, how youbecame a member of this unfortunate rebellion?"
"Dear, beloved, paternal friend," said the pale Martin with a gush oftears, "did you but know the excruciating pain you give my heart bythese questions, you would spare me. Will it not suffice, that Ivenerate your family, that it has long been my desire to be at yourbeloved side? you can guide, you can reform me; let my whole life beconsecrated to you. I can, I dare not return, they would seize andsentence me to an ignominious death; my brethren too, the Camisards,distrust me and hold me for a traitor. Why put my poor parents to theblush, by naming them at this moment? They brought me up withtenderness and affection, and the more bitter must their sorrow be, tobehold me degenerate, and liable to be executed. They are wealthy, butnot of such high rank as to have their name disgraced by my humbleservices in my attendance on the noblest of men."
"I will believe you, young man!" cried the Lord of Beauvais; "couldsuch an eye as that deceive? Be to me in lieu of child, of son, perhapssoon----." He could not proceed from emotion, and Martin also appeareddeeply moved.
The repast was served up and Godfred also returned from his wanderingloaded with poultry, and delicate vegetables, Eveline descended, who inher peasant's attire appeared very attractive; the Counsellor placed achair for Martin, by the side of Eveline, saying at the same time, "Mydear cousins, this young man belongs to me, he is related to me, andwhatever expenses you may incur for him, I shall return to you again:only do me the favour to call him also cousin Martin and be kind tohim."
"Aye! aye!" Smiled Barbara, "last week, I could not have supposed, thatall on a sudden my family would thus increase, sit down then, cousinMartin, and you Godfred, take care only not to make blunders beforestrangers." Grace was said, and the little Eveline made the sign of thecross, just as gravely as she saw the old people do; Godfred hadprepared a separate soup for the invalid Martin, and would not allowhim to eat of such meats as he deemed injurious to him. Godfred spokelittle, he seemed as if he had almost entirely renounced the habit ofspeech in the society of his too loquacious spouse, but on that accounthe had imbibed the peculiarity of frequently expressing aloud, when apause occurred, whatever was at that moment passing in the train of histhoughts, for he listened but seldom to Barbara's wonderfulphraseology.
"The fever will now be kept under," said he; just then Martin perceivedthat he was the subject of discourse, and the Lord of Beauvais wouldwillingly have inquired more closely into the state of the invalid, ifthe dame had not again launched out into narrations and far-fetchedideas.
"A little deeper and all would have been over," continued Godfred.
After the repast, Martin, for whom a room had been prepared near theCounsellor of Parliament, lay down. The rustic doctor, who had alreadyfed the dog, now examined his wounds; Eveline and her father retired tothe room up stairs.
"Have I done all well?" asked the little girl. "Quite well, my child,"answered the father, "I am satisfied with you."
"That is a beautiful rule," recommenced Eveline, "to pray before andafter the repast. Why did we not do the same at home?"
"You are not wrong, my child," replied the Counsellor; "for fear ofbeing like tradespeople, or appearing very hypocritical, much that isgood is neglected!"
"Ah! what a beautiful prayer the old woman said before dinner,"continued Eveline: "All eyes wait upon thee!"--"Do you know too, papa,how at home, when our Hector, or the other dogs, were fed in the hall,all gazed up so fixedly into the eyes of old Frantz? and as he turnedhis head, so went all the eyes like so many torches, right and left,still peeping at the old man, without ever blinking, until they atlength obtained their portions. No other animal, no ox, tat, nor horsecan so affectionately gaze into the eyes as the faithful dog. Even thesmallest child is ashamed, when it begs so fervently. That sick doglooks thus hungrily at old Godfred, and immediately shuts its eyes,when dame Barbara glances that way. That is indeed a glorious thought,that here, in all towns, in all France, in all countries, and in thewhole world, all hungry eyes, young and old, rise up to our HeavenlyFather so devoutly, so confidingly, and it must also be pleasing tohim, mighty and great as he is, when he beholds prayers and confidenceshining from all parts wherever he turns. But indeed all men are not,or perhaps at all times grateful. Ah! dearest papa, how often have I,in my short little life, already been ungrateful to you! Forgive me,pray, good papa, how often have I sulked, when you would not give me atoy, or when you have kept me steadily to work, for then I forgot sointentionly in my ill-humour and wickedness, how much I ought to thankyou, how you love me, and care for me. That God exists and gives meevery thing, I have often forgotten the whole day long. But I willbecome better and more reasonable."
The father took his child in his arms, and his heart was gladdened bythe prattle of simplicity.