“So you refuse?”
“No, I’m not refusing. I shall do everything that lies in my power but it can only be very little. If only for physical reasons. I have work to do and the distance to Holkenäs is not so very short, so that the opportunities that you spoke of will not occur very often. But the chief difficulty is the countess herself. I have rarely met any woman whom I admire more. She combines all the advantages of being a lady, a noble lady, with all the virtues of being a Christian and a woman. At all times, she endeavours to do what she thinks best, to do her duty, and it is extraordinarily difficult to lead her conception of duty into another direction. As you know and as I was suggesting only too plainly, our Church doesn’t permit anything more than counsel, exhortation, and request. Everything depends, more or less, on textual interpretation and this naturally opens the door to controversy. What is more, the countess not only knows her Bible very well, she also possesses the great strength of all those who look neither left nor right, make no concessions, and through their inflexibility, which is almost remorselessness, are far better armed than those who rely merely on gentle and loving faith. She will not be affected by contradiction and even less by my assuming an air of superiority.”
“Certainly. I can only repeat that it must all be made to appear accidental.”
“The only thing I can do is to act prophylactically, if I may be allowed a rather pedantic expression, since I’m half a schoolmaster at the moment. Precautions, prevention; I shall look around for stories from my past experience as a pastor—and what complications and aberrations does one not meet with and learn to understand!—and I shall try to make these stories do their work in secret. Your sister is both imaginative and thoughtful and her imagination should lend vividness to what she hears while her thoughtful nature will force her to face the matter squarely and perhaps lead to a change of mind and then to a change of heart. That is all I can promise. It will be a slow process and the effort may well be quite disproportionate to the result. But at least I intend not to evade the issue because I realize that something must be done, even if it must be kept within very carefully defined limits.”
“All right, Schwarzkoppen. I have your word and that is sufficient. What is more, it’s a favourable moment to put our project into execution. Holk is expecting to be summoned to Copenhagen by the Princess in about four weeks’ time and he will be away until Christmas. In the intervening period, I shall frequently come over to see to the administration and accounts of the estate, as I always do whenever Holk is away in Copenhagen. I shall let you know each time I am driving over, to discover if you can come with me. I should also mention that, every time he is away, she is in a much more gentle, almost tender mood and she always recovers her earlier fondness for him, which at the moment is more a hope than a reality. In a word, while he’s away, her mind is like a field all ready to receive the good seed. It is merely a matter of trying to show her everything from another, as it were equally legitimate, viewpoint. If we succeed in doing that, then we shall have achieved our purpose. With the seriousness and conscientiousness with which she approaches everything, she will certainly be able to reach the right conclusion herself, once she has seen reason.”
They had now reached the dyke which stretched out along the other side of the bay and on which the roadway continued to run for a short distance. The town lay below them and in the distance towered St. Catherine’s church in which the seminary was incorporated, while dominating the further end of the town stood the ancient castle that was Arne’s home. As the carriage drove down the slope into the town, Schwarzkoppen said: “What a strange sort of melodrama! Here we are, like a couple of conspirators, hatching plots by night and I suppose that I shall be playing the part that should have been taken by Petersen. And it is all the more strange because the countess really has a passionate admiration for him and the only thing she can find to blame in him is his rationalism. His rationalism! Nothing but a word and if you look at it closely, it is not really as bad as she seems to think, at any rate now. He has reached the limit of our allotted span and his eyes see more clearly than ours, perhaps in all things, and certainly in those pertaining to this world.”
6
The lovely autumn days seemed reluctant to depart. Next morning, too, dawned bright and sunny and the count and countess took their breakfast in the open on the front veranda with Julie. Asta was practising the piano in the adjacent room while Axel and his tutor had gone shooting on the dunes, taking advantage of the Michaelmas holidays which the countess, as with holidays in general, was rather loath to recognize as a rule. In town and at school, holidays might be justified, but in the country amongst all the freedom of God’s creation, they were, she felt, to say the least, superfluous. The countess had long held this view on principle and smiled in a condescending manner when the count attempted to defend the opposite opinion; but although not having changed her views, she had, as an exception, not objected to this year’s Michaelmas holidays because she had still not abandoned her plan of sending the two children to boarding-school at the beginning of the winter term. So a few days were not important. The count for his part continued to show the same lukewarmness which the countess was continually criticizing: he was not really against it but he was also never really for it. In any case, he denied that there was any need for haste, to which the countess made the vexed reply that that, at least, she refused to accept; it was not only time, it was high time. Asta was sixteen, Axel rising fifteen, and they were both at an age when character was being formed. They were, in fact, at the parting of the ways: were they to go left or right? “And are they going to be black sheep or white,” interrupted Holk maliciously and picked up the paper.
This mocking tone should have warned the countess that she was once again taking things too seriously; instead, it merely made her more serious. Paying no attention to the presence of Julie, who in any case knew all about the matter, the countess said: “I do beg of you, Helmut, to stop taking this serious matter as a joke. I enjoy being amused …”
“Sorry, Christine, but that seems to have become a favourite expression of yours since yesterday.”
“I enjoy being amused,” she repeated, “but there is a time for everything. I am not asking you to agree, I only want a firm answer and you need not even give your reasons. If you tell me that Strehlke is adequate and that you prefer Elizabeth Petersen to a whole boarding-school of young ladies, I shall not agree with you but I shall accept your decision and say nothing. It is true that I hardly call that education …”
“Ah, my dear Christine, here comes your hobby-horse again or one of your long list of them. If you had not been born Baroness Arne, you would certainly have been called Basedow or Pestalozzi and replaced Schwarzkoppen as principal of the seminary. Or perhaps even have become its inspector. Education, education, nothing but education all the time. To be quite honest, I find it impossible to believe all these stories about education. Even in education, the most important factor is predestination and grace. In this respect I am prepared to follow Calvin, however good a Lutheran I may be in other ways. And in case the mention of Calvin annoys you at the moment, since you happen to be in one of your high-minded moods, then let me simply remind you of the old proverb: What’s bred in the bone comes out in the flesh. Education has not really much to do with it; and if we are going to talk about education, then let me remind you that it comes from the home.”
The countess gave a slight shrug of her shoulders which Holk ignored as he continued: “The home sets the example and example is the only thing which I think has the power to educate. Example and natural love. I love the children, in which I hope I have your full approval at least; and I feel the need to see them every day.”
“It is not a question of us, Helmut, or of what you need but of what the children need. You see the children only at breakfast when you read Dagbladet and at tea when you read the Hamburger Nachrichten and you lose your temper if they ask you a question or even if they talk. It ma
y be that it gives you a certain feeling of satisfaction to have the children around but it is not really very different from the sugar-basin that must be at your right-hand side for you to be happy. You say that you need the children. Do you think that I don’t need them too, surrounded by all this quietness and loneliness with nobody but Julie? But the happiness of my children means more to me than my personal comfort and duty has nothing to do with one’s own well-being.”
Holk stroked the table-cloth with his left hand while with his right he snapped the lid of the sugar-basin open and shut three or four times until the countess, who was always irritated by this sound, pushed the basin to one side. Holk made no effort to prevent her, for he fully appreciated that such a bad habit must be difficult to bear. What is more, this petty incident completely restored his good humour. “All right then, as far as I am concerned. Talk it over with Schwarzkoppen and your brother and of course with our dear Julie. And then do what you think best. It is absolutely pointless to turn all this into a feud and I am most annoyed with myself for having said so much on the subject. After all,” and he took her hand and kissed it, “after all, it is only a piece of play-acting on your part, a sweet, charming piece of play-acting. Why it is I cannot conceive, but you seem to want to continue making me believe that what takes place in Holkenäs depends on me. Now, Christine, not only are you a much stronger character than I, you are also much cleverer. However, I am clever enough to know who is master here and who gives the orders. So if one morning you say to me: ‘Last night I made up two parcels and sent one to Gnadenfrei and the other to Schnepfental and in one of the parcels I put Asta and in the other I put Axel,’ then you know as well as I do that I might be taken aback for a second but that I certainly would not attempt to contradict you or even go so far as to blame you.”
The countess smiled, half placated yet half sad.
“There now,” said Holk, “I see that you agree with me and if you hesitate one second longer I shall call on our friend Julie to decide. Isn’t it right, my dear Julie, that it is foolish and even unkind to talk of a husband’s contradictions or indecisiveness when his indecision is never an obstacle because the decisiveness of his better half immediately makes his own indecision a matter of no moment whatsoever. And there is the Dronning Maria coming round the point. Another five minutes and she’ll be in. I suggest that we go down to the landing-stage and collect the Copenhagen mail.”
“No, I will,” cried Asta who had heard the news of the arrival of the Dronning Maria from the next room and immediately closed the piano at which she was practising. “No, I will, I’m quicker.”
Without giving time to answer yes or no, she flew down the terrace towards the pier, reaching the end just as the boat arrived. The captain, who knew her very well, saluted her and personally handed her a bundle of papers from the bridge. A moment later the ship set off again for Glücksburg while Asta hurried back to the terrace. When still only half-way there, she held up a long envelope which the count and countess had no difficulty in recognizing as an official communication by its large size and seal. A second later, Asta placed the papers on the table and handed the letter to her father. He hastily scanned the address and read: “The Honourable Count Helmut Holk of Holkenäs, Acting Provost of the Noble Company of St. John in Schleswig, Gentleman-in-Waiting to Her Royal Highness Princess Maria Eleanor.”
“There’s only one man who is so punctilious and thorough,” said the countess. “The letter must be from Pentz. I always have to laugh when I think of him, half Polonius and half Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Asta, you ought to go back to your practising. I think the Dronning Maria arrived rather too conveniently.”
Asta went back to her piano.
Meanwhile Holk had opened the letter and began reading it aloud, knowing that he would not be betraying any state secrets.
Copenhagen, The Princesses’ Palace
September 28th, 1859
My dear Holk,
First of all, our baronial greetings! And hot on the heels of my greetings, my most humble request for indulgence, since I am about to disturb the family life of Holkenäs castle. Our friend Thureson Bille who was to have started his term of duty with the Princess, alternating with Erichsen, was laid low three weeks ago by the measles, a childish complaint that, in the words of H.R.H., whom I quote, has addressed itself to the right victim. Now it is true that we still have Baron Steen but he happens to be in Sicily where he has been waiting for Etna to erupt for the last five weeks. Since Steen has found himself unable to continue his eruptive life in person, he has turned to the eruptions of fire-belching mountains. I wonder what his own past seems like in comparison! I have only known him for thirty years myself. In spite of all his efforts to be a Don Juan, he was fundamentally a Sir Andrew Aguecheek, which, judged by his own standards—and pretensions—makes him about as ridiculous as can be. But let us leave all these eruptions and revenons à nos moutons: Steen and Bille are not available and so you must step into the breach. The Princess herself wishes me to express all her regrets to you and to the charming countess and commands me to add that she will spare no effort to make your sojourn as easy and pleasant as possible and I have no doubt that she will succeed. The King intends to spend the late autumn in Glücksburg—with the Danner woman, of course—so that you will find our serenissima in the best of humours since, as you know, she is not over-fond of breathing the same air as that lady. The position of Hall, who is, as always, the Princess’s favourite in politicis, has been badly shaken but even that has helped to improve her good humour since everything suggests that the ‘Peasants’ Ministry’ which is impending has an expectation of life of not more than a month and if Hall returns to power—and he will be begged to do so—he will be more firmly in the saddle than ever. Moreover, my dear Holk—and I am more than delighted to be able to tell you this—it is not at all necessary for you in any way to rush and jump on the first steamer; the Princess asks that you be so instructed, an especial mark of favour, since punctuality is rather essential in your office and something on which the Princess is normally most insistent—indeed, in some circumstances, she can be quite touchy about it. Here I must stop and not make any premature revelations from my store of secrets which I am saving for your arrival. Moreover, the Princess is vexed if anyone reveals beforehand any gossip that she would have liked to tell herself. Just one really dainty morsel: Adda Nielsen is leaving the stage to become Countess Brede, after hesitating for a fortnight as to whether she would not rather continue in her freer and financially more advantageous position with the wholesaler Hoptrup. But legitimacy has its charms, too, and after all, this will make her a legitimate countess while Hoptrup, even if he were to become a widower, of which there seems at the moment no likelihood whatsoever, will never be anything more than a State Councillor, in spite of all his millions. And that is not enough for the pretensions of our leading tragic actress. De Meze has become aide-de-camp. Thomsen and Worsaae are quarrelling again, naturally enough over a hollowed-out petrified tree-trunk which Worsaae wants to date only from Ragnor Lodbrook while Thomsen, not satisfied with this, wants to go back as far as Noah. I personally am all for Noah; it holds pleasanter associations for me: the ark, doves, rainbows but, above all, the grape-vine. Let me have a note or better still a telegram to let me know when we may expect you.
Tout à vous, Your
Ebenezer Pentz
Holk read this letter with great amusement; but the countess was not amused.
“Well now, Christine, what do you think? Pentz all over, wasn’t it? Full of good humour, malice, and, fortunately, poking fun at himself as well. Court life does produce some extraordinary characters.”
“It does indeed. And particularly over there in our dear Copenhagen. Even at court, its fundamental nature cannot be hidden.”
“And what is its fundamental nature?”
“Dance-halls, music, and fireworks. It’s a town made for ships’ captains who have been drifting around for six months and now
are only thinking of making up for lost time and throwing away all the money they have saved. Copenhagen is a town of drinking and pleasure.”
Holk laughed. “Presumably including in your description the Thorwaldsen Museum, the Norse antiquities, St. Olaf’s Cross, and the Church of our Lady, with Christ and the twelve Apostles as well?”
“Oh Holk, what a question! You could easily make a longer list and of course I am not blind to all the lovely things to be found there. They are certainly a highly civilized people, very intelligent and talented, endowed in many, many ways. But if they have all the virtues of social intercourse, they have all its vices as well. They are all completely worldly; they have never had to worry or exert themselves and wealth and good fortune have just fallen into their laps. They have never known what it is to have a thrashing and that is what sets their whole tone and gives them their taste for pleasure. What is more, not content with merely drifting along with them, the court even sets the pace, instead of having the sense to realize that whoever wants to govern must first learn to control himself. But they don’t understand that, in Copenhagen, and even your Princess does not know it and least of all our good Baron Pentz who seems to imagine that the Tivoli pleasure gardens are one of the pillars of society. And he writes in that way, too. I cannot bear that tone and I feel bound to say that, in my view and with my upbringing, I think that it is heading straight for disaster.”
Holk dissented. “Believe me, Christine, however much royal and less than royal junketing takes place, it is really not like Balthazar’s feast and the writing will not be on the wall for my dear friends from Copenhagen for a long time yet. But what shall I do about this summons from the Princess?”
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