‘Just my luck,’ said Effi, pushing the book aside, ‘I want to settle my nerves and the first thing I read is the story of the White Lady, whom I’ve been afraid of for as long as I can remember. But since I’ve opened up a horror story, I may as well read it to the end.’
And she opened the book again and read on. ‘…This particular portrait (whose subject has such a part to play in Hohenzollern family history) plays its part as a picture in the history of Hermitage castle itself, and this is probably connected with the fact that it hangs on a secret door, concealed from outsiders’ eyes, behind which is a staircase leading up from the cellars. It is said that when Napoleon spent the night here, the “White Lady” stepped out of the frame and approached his bed. The Emperor is said to have sat up in terror and called for his adjutant, and to the end of his days he referred in great indignation to this maudit château.’
‘I must stop trying to calm myself by reading,’ said Effi. ‘If I read any more I’m sure to come to a vaulted cellar where the devil has ridden off on a wine-cask. I believe there’s a lot of that kind of thing in Germany, and of course a guide-book is bound to have assembled it all. So I’ll just shut my eyes and try as best I can to recreate my Wedding Eve: when the twins couldn’t go on for tears, when Cousin Briest, while everyone was looking uneasily at each other, managed to insist with astonishing dignity that such tears were the key to paradise. He really was charming and always so full of high spirits… And now what about me! Here of all places. Oh, I’m not cut out to be a grand lady. Mamma, she’d have fitted in here, she’d have set the tone as a Landrat’s wife should, and Sidonie Grasenabb would have been all adulation and wouldn’t have given a fig whether she was a believer or not. But me… I’m a child and I’ll always remain one. I once heard that was a good thing. But I don’t know if it’s true. One should always fit in wherever one finds oneself.’ At this moment Friedrich came in to clear the table.
‘What time is it Friedrich?’
‘It’s getting on for nine, my lady.’
‘Oh well, that’s good. Send Johanna to me.’
‘Your ladyship requires me?’
‘Yes Johanna. I want to go to bed. It’s still early really. But I’m so lonely. Please put this letter in the post and when you get back it will be time. And even if it isn’t.’
Effi took the lamp and went across to her bedroom. Of course, there on the rush-mat was Rollo. When he saw Effi coming he rose to make way and brushed his ears against her hand. Then he lay down again.
Johanna had meanwhile gone over to the Landrat’s office to post the letter. She hadn’t been in any hurry on the way, indeed she had gone as far as to have a chat with Frau Paaschen, the clerk’s wife. About the young lady of the house, naturally.
‘What’s she like, then?’ Frau Paaschen asked.
‘Very young, that’s what she’s like.’
‘Well, that’s no bad thing, in fact just the opposite. The young ones, and this is what’s good about them, are always standing in front of the mirror preening themselves and trying things on, so they don’t notice anything or hear anything and they haven’t yet got to be so that they go about counting the candle-ends and seeing you don’t get a kiss because no one kisses them any more.’
‘Yes,’ said Johanna, ‘that’s how my last mistress was and quite without cause. But there’s nothing like that about our young lady.’
‘Is he very affectionate to her?’
‘Oh very. As you can imagine.’
‘But he leaves her all on her own…’
‘Yes, my dear Paaschen, but you mustn’t forget… there’s Prince Bismarck. And he’s a Landrat after all. And perhaps he intends to go further.’
‘I’m sure he does. And so he will. There’s something about him. That’s what Paaschen always says, and he’s a good judge of folk.’
By the time this errand across the street to the office was over, a quarter of an hour had probably passed, and when Johanna returned, Effi was already sitting in front of the pier-glass waiting.
‘You took a long time, Johanna.’
‘Yes my lady… I am sorry my lady… I ran into Frau Paaschen over there, and I stayed and passed the time a little. It’s so quiet here. You’re always glad when you see anyone you can exchange a few words with. Christel is a good soul but she never talks, and Friedrich is so dim and so cautious too that he’ll never come out with anything. Of course you have to know when to keep quiet, and Frau Paaschen is so nosy and so very common, actually not at all my type; but one is happy to see or hear anything.’
Effi sighed, ‘Yes, Johanna, that’s truly the best thing…’
‘Your ladyship has such beautiful hair, so long and silky.’
‘Yes it’s very soft. But that’s not good, Johanna. Hair and character go together.’
‘They do indeed, my lady. And a soft character is better than a hard one. I have soft hair too.’
‘Yes Johanna, And yours is blond too. That’s what men like best.’
‘Oh that depends a lot, my lady. Many have a weakness for black too.’
‘That’s true,’ laughed Effi, ‘I’ve found that too. It has probably all got to do with something entirely different. But blondes always have a fair complexion, as you do, Johanna, and I’ll bet you have plenty of suitors. I’m very young but even I know that. And then I have a friend who was blond, flaxen-haired really, blonder than you, she was a clergyman’s daughter…’
‘Oh yes…’
‘Johanna, what do you mean “Oh yes”. It sounded rather suggestive and strange, you surely don’t have anything against clergyman’s daughters… She was a very pretty girl, that was what our officers all thought – we had officers, you see, red Hussars from Rathenow in fact – and she knew how to dress, black velvet bodice and a flower, a rose or a heliotrope, and if she hadn’t had such big, protuberant eyes… oh, you should have seen them, Johanna, at least as big as this’ (and Effi laughed as she pulled her right eyelid) ‘– but for that she would have been a real beauty. She was called Hulda, Hulda Niemeyer, and we weren’t as close as all that, but if I had her here now and she was sitting there on the little corner sofa, I would chat with her till midnight or later. I so long for…’ and at this she drew Johanna’s head closer to her… ‘I’m so afraid.’
‘Oh, it’ll pass, my lady, we’ve all felt it.’
‘You’ve all felt it? What does that mean Johanna?’
‘…And if your ladyship is really so afraid, I can sleep here. I’ll take the straw mat and turn a chair over for a headrest, and I’ll sleep here until morning, or until the Master gets back.’
‘He isn’t going to disturb me. He especially promised that.’
‘Or I’ll just sit on the corner sofa.’
‘Yes, that might be all right. No, it won’t do. The Master mustn’t know I’m afraid, he doesn’t like it. He always wants me to be brave and decisive, just like him. But I can’t; I was always susceptible… Of course I can see I’ll have to make an effort and do his bidding in this instance and indeed in everything… And I do have Rollo. He’s lying outside the door.’
Johanna nodded at each word and then lit the candle that was standing on Effi’s bedside table. Then she took the lamp. ‘Does your ladyship require anything further?’
‘No Johanna. The shutters are properly closed, aren’t they?’
‘Just drawn to, my lady. Otherwise it’s so dark and stuffy.’
‘Very well.’
And at that Johanna withdrew; Effi got into bed and pulled the bedclothes tightly round her.
She left the candle burning, because she did not propose to go to sleep just yet, but intended, just as she had done earlier with her Wedding Eve, to review her honeymoon trip and go over everything again in her mind’s eye. But things did not turn out as she had imagined, and she had only just got to Verona and was looking for the house of Juliet Capulet when she dropped off. The stump of candle in the little silver candlestick gradually burned down, then fla
red one last time and went out.
Effi slept very soundly for a while. But suddenly she sat up with a loud cry, in fact she heard the cry herself, just as she heard Rollo barking outside; from down the hallway his ‘woof, woof’ sounded, muffled and almost fearful. She felt as if her heart were standing still; she could not call out and just at this moment something flitted past her and the door leading to the hallway flew open. But the moment of her greatest terror was also the moment of liberation, because instead of something dreadful, it was Rollo that came up to her, seeking her hand with his muzzle and, once he had found it, lying down on the rug spread out at her bedside. Effi herself had pressed the bell-push three times with her other hand and in less than half a minute Johanna was there, barefoot, her skirt over her arm and a large check shawl thrown over head and shoulders.
‘Thank goodness you’re here, Johanna.’
‘What was it my lady? Your ladyship has had a dream.’
‘Yes, a dream. I must have had a dream… but there was something else too.’
‘And what was that, my lady?’
‘I was sleeping soundly, and suddenly I sat up and called out… perhaps it was a nightmare… nightmares run in the family, Papa has them too and frightens us with them, though Mamma just says he should get a grip on himself, which is easier said than done… so, I sat up, roused from my sleep and cried out, and when I looked round as best I could in the dark something rushed past my bed, just there, just where you’re standing Johanna, and then it was gone. And if I really ask myself what it was…’
‘Well, what was it then my lady?’
‘And if I really ask myself… I don’t like to say this Johanna… but I think it was the Chinaman.’
‘The one from upstairs?’ Johanna tried to laugh, ‘our little Chinaman, the one Christel and me stuck on the back of the chair? Oh, your ladyship was dreaming, and even if you were awake it all came out of the dream.’
‘I would like to think so. But at exactly the same moment Rollo barked outside, so he must have seen it too, and then the door flew open and the dear, faithful animal bounded towards me as if he had come to save me. Oh it was awful, my dear Johanna. And I’m so alone, and so young. Oh if only I had somebody here with a shoulder to cry on. But so far away from home… Oh, away from home.’
‘The Master may be here any time.’
‘No, he mustn’t come; he mustn’t see me like this. He might laugh at me and I could never forgive him for that. It was so terrifying, Johanna… you must stay here now… But don’t wake Christel or Friedrich. Nobody must know.’
‘Or maybe I could fetch Frau Kruse, she never sleeps, she sits there all night.’
‘No, no, she’s one of them too. All that business with the black hen, it’s the same kind of thing; no, she mustn’t come. No Johanna, stay here, just you. And it’s a good thing the shutters are just drawn to. Throw them open, and make it good and loud, I want to hear a noise, a human noise… I know it sounds funny but I have to call it that… and then open the window a little so that I have some air and light.’
Johanna did as she was bidden, and Effi sank back into her pillows and soon afterwards into a lethargic sleep.
10
Innstetten had not got back from Varzin until six in the morning and, fending off Rollo’s demonstrations of affection, had retired as quietly as possible to his room. Here he made himself comfortable and all he would allow was for Friedrich to cover him with a travelling rug. ‘Wake me at nine.’ And at that hour he had duly been wakened. He got up quickly and said, ‘Bring me breakfast.’
‘Her ladyship is still asleep.’
‘But it’s late. Has something happened?’
‘I don’t know. All I know is that Johanna had to sleep in her ladyship’s room last night.’
‘In that case send Johanna in.’
So in came Johanna. She had the same rosy complexion she always had, and seemed not to have been especially affected by the night’s events.
‘What’s happened with your mistress? Friedrich tells me something happened and you slept over there.’
‘Yes sir. Her ladyship rang three times, quite quickly, all at once, so I thought there must be something amiss. And so there was. She must have had a dream, or maybe it was the other thing.’
‘What other thing?’
‘Oh, you know sir.’
‘No, I don’t know. At any rate it’s time to make an end of all that. And how did you find my wife?’
‘She seemed beside herself, clutching Rollo’s collar with her arms round him as he stood by her ladyship’s bedside. And the dog was frightened too.’
‘And what had she been dreaming, or come to that, what had she heard or seen? What did she say?’
‘It had sort of flitted by her, quite close.’
‘What? Who?’
‘Him from upstairs. Him from the gallery, or that little room.’
‘Nonsense I say. Always the same stuff and nonsense; I don’t want to hear any more of it. And after that you stayed with my wife?’
‘Yes sir. I made a bed on the floor right beside her. And I had to hold her hand, and then she got to sleep.’
‘And she’s still sleeping?’
‘Quite soundly.’
‘That I find worrying, Johanna. Sleep can help you recover, but it can also make you ill. We must wake her, carefully of course, so she isn’t frightened again. And tell Friedrich not to bring breakfast, I shall wait until the Mistress is here. And use some discretion.’
Half an hour later Effi appeared. She looked charming, very pale, and she was leaning on Johanna. But when she saw Innstetten she rushed to him and hugged and kissed him. And as she did so tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Oh Geert, thank goodness you’re here. Now everything is all right again. You mustn’t go away again, you mustn’t leave me alone again.’
‘Effi my dear – put it down Friedrich, I’ll see to everything – Effi my dear, it’s not just a whim or thoughtlesssness when I leave you alone, it’s because that’s how it has to be; I have no choice, I’m a civil servant, I can’t just say to Prince Bismarck or the Princess, Your Highness, I can’t come, my wife gets so lonely, or my wife is afraid. If I said that it would show us in a ridiculous light, certainly me, and you too. But have a cup of coffee first.’
Effi drank some and that visibly revived her. Then she grasped her husband’s hand again and said, ‘You’re right; I can see it’s not done. In addition to which we’re aiming higher. I say we, because really I’m more set on it than you…’
‘All wives are,’ laughed Innstetten.
‘Well, that’s agreed; you’ll accept invitations just as you have been doing, and I’ll stay here and wait for my “lord and master”, which reminds me of Hulda under her elder tree. I wonder how she is?’
‘Ladies like Hulda are always all right. But what else were you going to say?’
‘I was going to say that I’ll stay here, and even alone if need be. But not in this house. Let’s move. There are such nice houses on the Bulwark, there’s one between Consul Martens’ and Consul Grützmacher’s, and there’s one on the marketplace, directly opposite Gieshübler; why can’t we live there? Why here? When we had friends or relatives visiting, I often heard them say that in Berlin people move because of piano-playing next door, or cockroaches, or because the caretaker’s wife was unfriendly; and if people move for a little thing like that…’
‘A little thing? A caretaker’s wife? Don’t say that…’
‘If it can be done for things like that, then it can be done here too, where you’re the Landrat and everybody does what you want and many people are indebted to you. Gieshübler would certainly help us, even if it were only for my sake, for he would be sorry for me. So say it Geert, tell me we’re giving up this haunted house, this house with its…’
‘Chinaman, you mean. You see, Effi, the dreadful word can be uttered without making him appear. What you saw, or what flitted past your bed, as you would have it, was the
little Chinaman the maids stuck on the chair-back upstairs; I bet he was wearing a blue jacket and a flat hat with a shiny button on top.’
She nodded.
‘There you are, a dream, a hallucination. And I suppose Johanna told you yesterday about the wedding up there…’
‘No.’
‘So much the better.’
‘She didn’t tell me a thing. But I can see from all this that there is something odd about this place. And then there’s the crocodile; it’s all so uncanny here.’
‘That first evening when you saw the crocodile you thought it was like something out of a fairy tale…’
‘Yes, I did then…’
‘…Besides Effi, I can’t leave here, even if it were possible to sell the house or arrange an exchange. It would be just like refusing invitations to Varzin. I can’t have people in the town here saying Landrat Innstetten is selling his house because a little Chinaman stuck on a chair appeared as a ghost at his wife’s bedside. I’d be finished, Effi. There’s no recovering from ridicule like that.’
‘Yes Geert, but are you so sure there’s no such thing?’
‘I wouldn’t say that. It’s one of those things you either believe in or, preferably, don’t. But assuming there is such a thing, what harm does it do? The fact that there are germs floating around in the air, as you’ll have heard, is much worse and much more dangerous than all this spectral activity. That is if spectres are active and such things really exist. And I’m surprised to find such an aversion and fear in you of all people, a Briest. You’re behaving as if you came of some petty bourgeois family. Ghosts are a mark of distinction, like a family tree and so forth, and I know families who would just as soon part with their coat of arms as their “White Lady”, who may just as easily be black.’
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