“You forget,” I broke in, “that I only allowed you to stay with me on certain conditions and that I have full liberty of action still.”
“I shall go if you bid me.” That was his usual threat. I remained silent and he at once began to roll up my shadow. I turned pale but did not intervene. There was a long silence.
“You cannot bear me, sir,” he broke out at last. “I know you hate me, but why do you hate me so? Is it because you attacked me on the highway and tried with violence to rob me of my bird’s nest? Or is it because of your fraudulent attempt to get hold of my property – the shadow, which you were holding in trust? Personally, I don’t hate you for all that. On the contrary, it seems quite natural to me that you should make the most of your advantage – turning your strength and cunning to good account. That you happen to have very strict principles and are honesty itself, is a hobby of yours with which I have no quarrel. My own principles are not so strict but you’ll admit I’m acting according to your code. Did I ever try to strangle you in order to obtain possession of your valuable soul, to which I have really taken a great fancy? For the sake of my bartered purse, have I ever set my servant on you and tried to run away with it.” I said nothing. “Well, sir,” he continued, “so you cannot endure me. I can understand that and don’t hold it against you. Obviously, we must part and I must admit, you are becoming very boring to me, too. But to get rid of my humiliating presence for ever, I will advise you once more – buy the thing from me.”
I held out the purse. “For this?” I said.
“No.”
“Well, then,” I said, with a deep sigh, “I insist that we part. Do not bar my way any longer in a world which I trust is big enough for us both.”
“I go,” he said smiling, “but first I will show you how to ring for me, when you need the presence of your humble servant. You need only to shake your purse; the tinkle of its contents will draw me instantly to your side. Everybody thinks of his own interest in this world but you see I am thinking of yours as well. For you’re getting a new power from me. Excellent purse, so even if the moths devour your shadow, it will always be a strong bond between us. But enough of this – you possess me while you possess my gold. However distant, I am at your command. You know that I am always at the disposal of my friends and that for the wealthy I have an especial regard – you’ve seen that for yourself. But as for your shadow, sir, let me assure you it will never be yours save on one condition alone.”
Ghosts of the past floated before my eyes.
“Did Mr John give you his signature?” I asked.
“With so good a friend,” he said smiling, “it was hardly necessary.” “Where is he?” I demanded, “In God’s name, I must know!”
Slowly he put his hand in his pocket and drew out by the hair the pale and ghastly form of Thomas John.
“Justo Judicio Dei judicatus sum.”* The terrible words trembled on its blue and livid lips. “Justo Judicio Dei condemnatus sum.”*
I was frozen with horror.
“Leave me!” I cried and flung the purse violently from me into the abyss. “I adjure you in the name of God, monster! Never let me see you again.”
He rose darkly and left me. His figure seemed to vanish immediately behind the masses of savage rocks.
9
I SAT THERE PENNILESS and without my shadow, but a heavy load had dropped from my heart and I was calm. If I had not lost Mina, or if I could have ceased reproaching myself for that loss, I believe I should have been almost happy. But I did not know where to turn. I searched my pockets; a few pieces of gold were left. With a smile I counted them. My horse was at the inn below. I was ashamed to go back to fetch it – at least until the sun set. I stretched myself in the shade of a nearby tree and fell quietly asleep.
The most delightful images danced through my happy dreams. Mina, crowned with flowers, bent over me and cheered me with a loving smile. Bendel, too, was there and came towards me, wreathed with flowers and smiles to greet me warmly. There were others also and in the distant crowd I thought I could even see you, Chamisso. A bright light shone, but there were no shadows; stranger still, all appeared happy. Flowers, music, love and joy under the palmy groves. I could hardly take in – let alone distinguish or point out – the lovely forms that flitted by and as quickly vanished again; but I was happy in my dream and only wanted never to wake. I kept my eyes closed even as I was waking so that the fading dream might stay with me a little longer.
But at last I must open my eyes. The sun was still shining, but it was in the east. I had slept the whole night through. I took this for a sign that I ought not to return to the inn. Without a qualm I abandoned all my possessions, which I had left there the day before, and decided to set out on foot down a lane which led through the forest-girt base of the hill, and leave what became of me in the hands of fate. I did not look back; I never even thought of applying to Bendel, whom I had left wealthy behind me and who could so easily have helped. I began instead to think about the new role I must assume in the world. My appearance was quite unpretentious. I wore an old black coat, dating from my days in Berlin and which, for some reason, I had taken on this journey. A travelling cap was on my head and a pair of worn old boots on my feet. I stood up, cut myself a knotted stick as a kind of memento, and set off on my wanderings.
Before long, I overtook an old peasant in the wood. He greeted me kindly and we fell into conversation. Acting the curious visitor, I asked him about the way, the neighbourhood and its inhabitants, the produce of the region and so forth. He answered my questions freely and with plenty of good sense. In time we came to the bed of a mountain stream which had at one time ravaged this part of the forest. I trembled inwardly at the wide sunny stretch ahead and let the peasant walk before me. However, he stood still in the middle of the clearing and turned back towards me so as to tell me the story of the flood. He soon saw what I was lacking and stopped in the middle of his tale.
“But what’s this?” he said in surprise, “the gentleman has no shadow.”
“Alas,” I answered with a sigh. “I have had a long and terrible illness in which I lost my hair and nails along with my shadow. Look, old man, how my hair has grown again white though I’m young and my nails are sadly short; and my shadow has not yet started to sprout again.
“Fancy.” said the old man, shaking his head dubiously. “That’s odd – no shadow. It must have been a sad illness indeed.” But he did not go on with his story and at the next fork in the road he drifted away from me without a word of farewell. All my serenity was shattered; I could have wept.
Heavy hearted, I went on my way, seeking the company of man no longer. I hid myself in the depths of the forest and was often obliged to wait for hours before I could cross the patches of sunshine, even though there was no human eye to spy on my progress. In the dark of evening I took refuge in the villages. At last I turned my steps in the direction of a mine in the mountains, where I hoped to find employment underground: for not only was it essential that I earn my living but I could see that only the most arduous labour would distract me from my destructive thoughts.
A couple of rainy days speeded my progress but at the cost of my boots, which had been made for Count Peter and not for pacing the by-ways like a tramp. I was soon walking barefoot and forced to buy another pair of boots. I set about this carefully next morning in the village, where a fair was in progress. For a long time I looked and bargained. I had to abandon the idea of a new pair because the price was exorbitant and made do with old ones instead. They seemed firm and strong, however, and the fair-skinned, light-haired shop boy handed them to me in return for my money with a ready smile and wished me a happy journey. I put them on immediately and left the village by its northern gate.
I was lost in thought and hardly noticed where I was going. I was still thinking about the mine, where I hoped to arrive that evening, and wondering how to present myself there. I had not walked two hundred paces when I realized that I had lost my way. I look
ed about me. I was in a deserted forest; no axe, it seemed, had ever been laid to the roots of those ancient firs. I hurried on a few steps and saw that only moss and stones surrounded me; piles of snow and ice lay between the dreary rocks. The wind was bitterly cold and when I looked round I saw that the forest had completely vanished. Another few paces and I seemed locked in the stillness of death. The ice on which I stood stretched endlessly before me. A dark mist hung over everything. The sun on the edge of the horizon looked like a glowing red ball. The cold was unbearable but somehow the cruel frost forced me to quicken my steps. The thunder of distant waters – another step had brought me to the ocean’s ice-bound shore. Droves of seals plunged from the ice-floes into the sea. I followed the shore and saw again naked rocks, wide plains, forests of birch and pine. I advanced for a few minutes – the heat was stifling – round me were richly cultivated rice fields and groves of mulberry trees, in whose shade I sat down. I looked at my watch and found it was less than a quarter of an hour since I had left the village. I thought I must be dreaming and bit my tongue to wake myself up; but I was thoroughly awake already. Closing my eyes, I tried to collect my scattered wits. Strange foreign words, spoken in a nasal voice, fell on my ear. I turned round; two Chinese – I could not possibly mistake their Asiatic faces – were saluting me after the custom of their country and in their own tongue. I stood up and walked back a couple of steps. I could see them no longer – the landscape had changed entirely. Trees and woods had taken the place of rice fields. Looking carefully at the vegetation around me, I came to the conclusion I was in South-eastern Asia. I moved towards a tree and everything was different again. I began to march slowly forwards, like a recruit on the barrack square. A wonderful panorama of countries – fields and meadows, mountains, wastes and sandy deserts – unrolled before my astonished eyes. There could be no doubt about it – I wore the seven-league boots on my feet.
10
I FELL TO MY KNEES in an access of gratitude and devotion. Suddenly my future opened before me in glowing colours. Shut out as I was from human society by my youthful folly, the glories of nature, which I had always loved, were spread before me like a garden of unparalleled richness. These would be the objects of my study, the guide and strength of a life whose sole aim was the pursuit of science. It was not a decision that I made consciously at the time. But the bright picture that then smote my inner eye I have since tried to describe in detail, with earnest and unremitting care, and my happiness has depended on the intensity and accuracy of my recollections.
I stood up quickly, in order to make a rapid survey of the territory that would be the field of my study. I was standing on the mountains of Tibet and the sun, which I had seen rising only a few hours ago, was now sinking in the west. I covered Asia from east to west and passed the boundaries of Africa. I explored the country in great detail, crossing and recrossing it in all directions. As I gazed at the ancient pyramids and temples of Egypt, I noticed in the desert near the city of Thebes with its hundred gates, the caves once occupied by Christian hermits. It struck me forcibly that here I should live one day. I chose one of the most inconspicuous, which was at the same time roomy, convenient and inaccessible to wild beasts, to be my future home.
I moved on into Europe by the Pillars of Hercules and, after I had made a rapid survey of its southern and northern provinces, I hurried to Northern Asia and thence over the Polar Glaciers to Greenland and America. I roamed through both parts of that continent and the winter which had started in the south soon drove me back northwards from Cape Horn.
After a short rest I started on my wanderings again. I followed the mountain ranges, some of the highest in the world, through the two Americas. Slowly and prudently, I stepped from peak to peak, now over flaming volcanoes, now over snowy heights. Often I could hardly breathe at that dizzy altitude but I managed to reach Mount Elias and sprang to Asia across the Bering Straits. I followed the winding coastline, noticing specially which of the islands in the neighbourhood were accessible to me. From the Malacca peninsula my boots took me to Sumatra, Java, Bali and Lamboc. I tried, often in danger and alas, always in vain, to find a north-west passage over the inlets and rocks with which the ocean is studded, to Borneo and the other islands of the Archipelago. At last, giving up all hope, I sat down on the furthest point of Lamboc and, turning my eyes south-eastward, I mourned as if behind the bars of a prison that I could go no further. New Holland, that extraordinary country, so essential to an understanding of the structure of the earth and its vegetable and animal life, and the Antarctic South Sea with its Zoophyte Islands, were barred to me. And so the evidence on which I planned to build my scientific studies was condemned from the very first to be incomplete. Such, O Adelbert, are the limitations of man’s striving.
How often, in the bitter winter of the southern hemisphere, I have started from Cape Horn, to cross the two hundred or so paces which divided me from New Holland and Van Diemen’s Land, careless of how I should return or of whether that terrible land would shut down upon me like the lid of my coffin. I tried to set foot on the polar glaciers to the west and, passing perilously over the floating ice, to brave the frost and the sea. But in vain. I never reached New Holland. Each time I found myself back in Lamboc, looking longingly to the south and east, like a prisoner in his cell.
At last I abandoned this spot and with a sad heart travelled to the interior of Asia. I hurried on, seeing the day break to the west of me and by nightfall had reached my cave in the desert near Thebes, which I had left the previous afternoon.
As soon as I had had a rest and day had dawned upon Europe, I began to equip myself for my studies. First some overshoes, to act as a brake; for I had discovered that, however inconvenient it might be, the only way of shortening my pace in order to explore my surroundings in detail, was to take off my boots. A pair of overshoes produced the desired effect and later on I always carried another spare set, as I often had to abandon one pair quickly at the approach of men or wild animals while I was botanising. My excellent watch was all the timepiece I needed for the short duration of my journeys, but I also had to have a sextant, some surveying instruments and books.
To obtain these I made a few tedious journeys to London and Paris, which were both conveniently overshadowed by fog. As the rest of my magic gold was now exhausted, I took with me for payment some elephants’ tusks, easily obtained in Africa, although I had to choose the smallest among them lest their weight be too much for my strength. I had soon stocked up with everything I needed and embarked on my new life as a solitary man of learning.
I travelled all over the east – measuring the mountains, the temperature of its air and waters; observing its animals and studying its plant life. I hurried from the equator to the pole – from one world to the other, comparing experience with experience. The eggs of the African ostrich or northern seabirds and fruit, especially bananas and dates from the tropical palms, provided my staple diet. Instead of my lost riches I had a good pipe for enjoyment – it took the place of human sympathy – while as an object for my affections, I had a little poodle who loved me and played the watchdog over my cave at Thebes. When I came home, laden with the spoils of my explorations, it sprang eagerly forwards to greet me, stirring my heart by its welcome and making me feel I was not quite alone in the world. But yet another adventure awaited me that was to drive me back among my fellow men once more.
11
ONE DAY I was working in the far north. My galoshes were drawn over my boots and I was collecting my specimens of lichen and other seaweeds. A polar bear had stolen up behind me and now suddenly confronted me on the narrow ledge of rock on which I stood. I wanted to throw off my slippers and move across to a nearby island, which I could easily reach by stepping on a rock which lifted its head above the waves. With one stride I reached the rock. I stepped forwards with the other foot and fell into the sea. In my panic, I had not noticed that the galosh was still drawn over that boot.
Stunned by the intense cold, I had
the greatest difficulty in saving my life. As soon as I regained the shore, I hurried to the wastes of Libya to dry myself in the sun. In no time at all, however, the burning heat on my head made me feel so ill that I reeled back to the north again. I sought relief in rapid movement, hurrying with uncertain steps from west to east and from east to west; from the extremes of day and night, from the heat of summer to winter’s hardest cold.
I do not know how long I staggered thus about the world. A burning fever shook me. I raged in delirium and in dreadful anguish realized that my senses were leaving me. I had the misfortune in my frenzy to tread on a traveller’s foot. I must have hurt him, for he struck me violently. I staggered and fell.
When I came to my senses, I was lying comfortably in an excellent bed, which stood among many others in a large and good-looking room. Somebody sat by my bedside. People came and went through the room, going from bed to bed. Some of them stood before mine and I could hear that they were talking about me. They called me Number Twelve; but on the wall at the foot of my bed I could see quite distinctly a black marble slab, on which was inscribed in large golden letters, my name:
PETER SCHLEMIHL
quite correctly written; and under it, two lines of letters, of which I was too weak to make any sense. I closed my eyes again.
I heard someone reading aloud clearly and distinctly, a passage in which the name Peter Schlemihl was mentioned; but I could not make out the meaning of what was being said. I saw a kindly man and a beautiful woman dressed in black standing beside my bed. They seemed familiar to me though I did not recognize them.
Time passed and I gradually regained my strength. I was called Number Twelve, and Number Twelve because of his long beard, passed for a Jew but was none the less well cared for on that account. Nobody seemed to notice that he had no shadow. My boots, they assured me, were in safe keeping together with everything else that had been found with me and would be given back to me on my recovery. The place where I lay ill was called the Schlemihlium; and every day the patients were exhorted to pray for Peter Schlemihl, as the founder and benefactor of the hospital. The kindly man whom I had seen at my bedside was Bendel; the beautiful woman in black, Mina.
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