THE H      OHENSTEINS
A Novel
BR
FRIEDRICH SPIELHAGEN
A ulhor's Ediion.
NEW YORK
LEYPOLDT & HOLT
I870








THE HOHENSTEINS
A NOVEL
BY
FRIEDRICH SPIELHAGEN
FROM THE GERMAN
BY
PROF. SCHELE DE VERE
Author's Edition.
NEW YORK
LEYPOLDT & HOLT
1870




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by
LEYPOLDT & HOLT,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern
District of New York.
THE NEW YORK PRINTING COMPANY,
81, 83, and 85 Centre St.,
NEW YORK.




BY COPYRIGHT ARRANGEMENT WITH THE AUTHOR.
THE NOVELS OF
FRIEDRICH SPIELHAGEN.
I21,Y, cloth, uniform       in  size and style, per vol., $2.00.
JUST PUBLISHED.
I-PR OBLEMA TIC CHARA CTERS.
II — THR 0 UGH NIGHT TO LIGHT.
II- THE HOHENS TEINS.
The above translated by Prof. SCHELE DE VERE.
IV-HAMMER AND ANVIL. (INMA.)
Translated by WM. HAND BROWNE
IN      PRESS.
V. -IN RANK AND FILE.
VI.-ROSE, AND THE VILLAGE COQUETTE.
CRITICAL            NOTICES.
"Such a novel as no English author with whom   "The reader lives among them (the characters) as
we are acquainted could have written, and no   he does among his acquaintances, an(dl may plead
American anthor except Hawthorne. What separ- cltch one's case as plausibly to his own Ijdgment as
ates it from the multitude of American and English  lie can tllose of the men whose mixed  otives and
novels is the perfection of its plot, and'Its author's 1actions he sees around him. Iln other words, these
insight into the souls of his characters......  characters live, they are men and women, aid tlhe
If Germany is poorer than England, as regards the  whole mystery of humanity is upon each of them.
number of its novelists, it is richer whlien we consi- Has no superior in German romance for Its ender thle intellectual value of their works. If it has thusiastic and  lively descriptions, and foi the
not produced a Thackeray, or a Dickens, it has pro- dignity and the tenderness with which its leading
duced, we ventlure to think, two writers who are  characters are invested."-Neiw York E)einnisy lost.
equal to them iln genius, and superior to them inll  Ile strikes with a blow like a blacksmlith, imakthe depth miand spirituality of their art-Auerbach  ing the sparks fly and the anvil ring.  Terse,
and Spielhagen."-'iitniam's Mafgazite.         pointed, brilliant, rapid, and no dreamer, lie has the
"The name is suggested by a passage in Goethe, best traits of the French manner, while in earnestwhich serves as a motto to the book. Spielhagen  ness and fulness of matter he is thoroughly German.
means to illustrate what Goethe speaks of-natures  One sees, moreover, in his pages, how powerful is
not ill full possession of themselves,' who are not the impression which America has of late been
equal to any situation in life, and whom no situation  making upon the mind of Europe."-Bostotn Conmsatisfies'-the Hamrlet of our latest civilization. With  monurealth.
these he deals in a poetic, ideal fashion, yet also  "The work is one of immense vigor; the characters
with huimor, and, what is less to be expected in a are extraordinary, yet not unnatural; the plot is
German, with sparkling, flashing wit, and a cynical the sequence of an admlirably-sustained web of invein that reminds one of Heine. He has none of the cident and action. The portraitures of charactertiresome (detail otf Auerbach, while he lacks some- istic foibles and peculiarities remind one much of
what that excellent man's profound devotion to the  the masterhand of the great Thackeray.  The
moral sentiment. There is more depth of passion  author Spielhagen in Germany ranks very much as
and of thought ins Spielhagen, together with a  Thackeray does with us, and niany of his English
French liveliness by no means common in German  reviewers place himiii at the head and front of Gernovelists.... At any rate, they are vastly supe- man novelists."- Proy Daily Times.
rior to the bulk of English novels which are annual-  "His characters have, perhaps, more passion, and
ly poured out upon uss-as much above Trollope's as act their parts with as much dramatic effect as
Steinberger Cabinet is better than London porter.-  those which have passed under the hand of AuerSprinl(fleld Repttblicaml.                     bach." —Oincinnati Chronicle.
The N. Y. TIMES, of Oct. 23d, In a long Review of the above two works, says: "The descriptions of
nature and art, the portrayals of character and emotion, are always striking and truthful. As one reads,
there grows upon him gradually the conviction that this is one of the greatest of works of fiction...
No one, that is not a pure eyoiste, can read Problematic Characters without profound anti even solemn
interest. It is altogether a tragic work, the tragedy of the nineteenth century-greater in its truth and
earnestness, anid absence of Hnuoese affectation, than any tragedy the century has produced. It stands
far above any of the productions of either Freytag or Auerbach.
LEYPOLDT &6               HOLT, Publishers,
451 BROOME        ST., NEW      YORK.








THE HOUSE OF HOHENSTEIN.
PART FIRST.
P A R T      FI R S T
CHAPTER I.
IT was one of those lovely fair spring days in which the
year eighteen hundred and forty-eight was so rich, the
sun looked joyously from the blue, cloudless sky, upon
the wide, fertile plain through which the great stream
winds its majestic course. The larks were jubilant over
the meadows and wheat-fields which cover the gentle slopes
from the river up to Castle Rheinfeld. In the large neglected park of the chateau the nightingales were singing
in green hedges and shrubs, and cawing crows were busy
building their nests upon the gigantic trees which raised
their bare arms here and there above the woods high into
the heavens.
In one of the avenues that led to the chateau, the Baroness Clotilda Hohenstein, the president's wife, was walking
with her two daughters, Aurelia and Camilla. The ladies
had arrived an hour ago in their own carriage, because the
president, who lived in Cologne, wished that his wife and her
daughters should be the first of the whole family to offer his
excellency, the old general, their congratulations on his
birthday, and to present to him the finest boquets that his
gardener's skill had been able to form. But alas! the beautiful boquets were still waiting to be accepted! There they
were lying on the stone table in the garden-house, and the
tender flowers began already to look as mournful as the
ladies themselves. But it was really too bad. They had
probably walked up and down the avenue fifty times now,
looking steadily across the little lake that formed a pretty
foreground to the chateau, at the windows of the general's
bed-room. At first this. side of the house had been in shadow;
they had seen the shadow disappear gradually, till now the.
whole front was in bright sunlight, and the blue curtains had




2              The House of Hohenstein.
not yet been drawn! Heretofore, when the ladies had come
out for similar purposes towards noon, the general had, in
his coarse, sneering manner, spoken of " late risers, who could
not leave their beds even for the sake of an old man;" and
now, when they thought they would please him by an early
call, he kept them waiting for hours! No one had been
there to receive them on their arrival! Even "madame"
had been invisible. After waiting in their carriage for a
quarter of an hour before the main entrance, Kilian, a rough
old servant, had at last come out to tell them that his excellency was still asleep, and madame likewise-did they
wish to have the horses put up? The president's wife had
never enjoyed a very cordial reception at Rheinfeld, but
this was worse than ever.
The ladies had finished their fifty-first round, and as they
were turning back the sunlight came into the shaded walk,
presenting their figures in the most favorable light.
The Baroness Hohenstein was a very stately lady of some
forty odd years. Her husband's friends, privy councillors,
and other men, who had known her as Miss Slick in Berlin,
before she married Baron Hohenstein, then in an inferior
position, still thought with delight of her delicate beauty,
and remembered how wonderfully well Miss Clotilda had
danced, at the same time charming all her partners by her
sprightliness and wit. It is true, that was twenty years ago,
and twenty years produce great changes even in the most
light-footed, lissome figure and the most exuberant spirits.
Clotilda had become corpulent and sentimental; her features,
never remarkable for regularity, had grown large in consequence of indolence and good living. Only her dark hair
was still beautiful and glossy; and her brown, sensuous eyes
reminded former admirers of the Clotilda of other days, the
renowned queen of all the balls at the capital.
The same authorities considered the older daughter,
though smaller than her mother, most like her; and certainly, if the quintessence of the mother's whole manner was
sensuousness, this characteristic feature was very strongly
imprinted upon the appearance of Aurelia. She was about
nineteen years old.  And already her eyes, moderately
large, but dark and brilliant, were eminently sensuous; sensuous were the full, cherry-red lips, sensuous the full outlines




7he House of Hohenstein.            3
of neck and bust, shining like marble in the bright sunlight,
as the young lady happened for a moment to let the black
mantilla drop down on her skirt. Still, Aurelia could at best
be called pretty only; but her sister, younger by two years,
was beyond question a regular beauty. Nearly half a head
taller than Aurelia, and by so much smaller than her stately
mother, Camilla showed in her lithe figure the most perfect
symmetry, and in her form that budding grace which is to
womanly fulness what the bud is to the flower. The features of her sweet oval face, also, were of uncommon delicacy, aided by a soft complexion, which perhaps lacked
brilliancy.  Connoisseurs in such matters dwelt specially
upon the pleasing contrast between the lighter color of her
soft, glossy hair with the darker brows, finely arched, and
the long silken lashes that drooped so charmingly over the
dark eyes, swimming in their soft splendor. "Upon my
word, if an angel had been sent from heaven upon this dark
earth of ours, he would have asked as a favor the privilege
of assuming this form," the painter Kettenberg had quite
recently exclaimed, after having " arranged " Miss Camilla
as Mignon in one of the tableaux given at the president's
house.
"I am tired, children," said the mother, sitting down on
the bench near the half-fallen table, and looking sadly at
the fading flowers. " Are not you?"
"Well, I can stand it," said Aurelia, pausing and drawing
up her mantilla, " I only think it is an awful bore."
Suddenly she commenced laughing, and said: "Oh,
Camilla, what a face you are making! If Baron Willamowsky
were to see you so, he would wail over one more illusion
perdue."
Camilla had taken a seat on the other end of the bench.
Her beautiful face had certainly an expression in most decided contrast with her soft features.
"Let me alone," said the young lady, impatiently.
"Good Heavens! who is hurting you?" replied the sister.
"Can I help it if miss has not slept enough to-day? I told
you over and over again, last night, not to dance all the
time."
" You thought that might benefit you," sneered Camilla.
"Oh, angel! I have never yet been without partners,




4              The House of Hohenstein.
although I have not yet driven a great painter to despair,
nor done any other harm by my beauty."
"Why must you always be quarrelling, children?" said
the mother, pulling off her gloves and admiring her fat,
white hands. " I should think you were badly enough off as
it is."
"We are not so very badly off, mamma," said the young
lady, balancing herself on her high heels, "if we only had
something to eat. I begin to be awfully hungry."
" That is the second time in five minutes that you have
said'awful, " remarked Camilla.
" You use much worse words," replied the sister.
"But, children," said the mother beseechingly, and throwing the gloves she had carefully rolled up on the table.
There followed a pause in the conversation of the ladies,
during which Aurelia amused herself by sending flat stones
across the pond. Suddenly she turned around and said:
"But, mamma, please tell me why are we so awf-I had
nearly said'awful' again, Camilla-so desperately attentive
to our granduncle?"
"What do you call'desperately attentive?"' asked
mamma.
" I call it being desperately attentive, if we overwhelm with
our attentions a man who is superhumanly rude and rough to
us; if we are all the time making embroideries for him,
which he never makes use of; if we write letters which he
does not answer; and pay him visits of congratulations, during which he treats us comme a present, en canaille."
"I should think that subject had been discussed often
enough," said Camilla, looking carelessly at the point of her
small foot.
"Then propose a better one if you can," cried Aurelia.
" Camilla is right," said the mother; "the thing has been
discussed often enough, setting aside that we owe some
consideration to the general as the head of the family. It is
one of the first rules of ordinary wisdom to try to win the
favor of a man on whom we are, so to speak, dependent."
"But, mamma, have not you quite a large fortune of your
own?"
" Well, I have, or rather I had. You see, child, we spend a
great deal; living is enormously expensive. Your father's




The House of Hohenstein.           5
ridiculously small salary, and the interest on my property,
do not go half-way; we have to spend the principal. Sooner
or later there will be an end of it; and if-as may happen
any day-you marry, where is the trousseau to come from?
It makes me shudder to think of it."
The mother put her arm around Camilla and drew her
to herself, as if she wished to protect her child against a
fate which, to her eyes, certainly appeared terrible.
"But I thought," Aurelia began once more, "we were at
any rate to inherit granduncle's property. Why, then, take
all this awf-this horrible trouble?"
"How you talk!" said Camilla, still leaning on her
mother's bosom; " as if you did not know that Uncle Gisbert
is quite as near to him as we are."
"Well, then, leave him alone! A few thousand dollars
more or less do not matter much."
The mother sighed. She thought of several old bills, of
which her husband had no suspicion, and how enormous the
difference between a few thousand dollars more or less is
for a maternal heart, beating affectionately for her daughter's wardrobe! Camilla undertook to rebuke Aurelia for
her thoughtless remark.
" You will make mamma lose the rest of her patience by
your foolish talk," she said. "Perhaps you will do like
Aunt Antonia, and proclaim at our next party that you do
not care a sixpence for your granduncle."
"I only wish I were as independent as Aunt Antonia, and
could do it! "
"But your Aunt Antonia is a widow and rich, and you
are neither, and that is why you cannot do it," said the
mother, almost angrily. " Dear child," she continued in a
softer tone, "do you really think your papa and I would
take the matter so seriously if we did not know how important it is to win your granduncle's favor. He may die any
day, so the doctor told me only last night, and your father
thinks it highly probable that he has not made his will yet.
But if he should die intestate, which God forbid, then your
father and his two brothers inherit equally."
"That would suit Uncle Arthur exactly," said Aurelia,
laughing.
" But it would not suit us," replied the mother. "Uncle




6             The House of Hohenstein.
Arthur has forfeited the general's favor forever by his marriage with that woman-what is her name?-and by his
democratic tendencies. If therefore your granduncle should
make his will, he is most likely to exclude the alderman
altogether. Uncle Ernest is dead and has left no childrenI suppose I may say God be thanked!-so that your Aunt Antonia, being childless and rich in her own right, has no claim
upon the inheritance, and thus there remain only your papa
and Uncle Gisbert. Now, the colonel stands in bad repute
with your granduncle, and  "
"But so does papa, doesn't he?" interrupted Aurelia.
" Unfortunately he does! " sighed the mother; " all the
more needful for you to take every possible pains to get into
his favor. Capricious and eccentric as he is, I should not
wonder at all if he left everything to you two."
" Wouldn't that be famous! " exclaimed Aurelia, clapping
her hands; "wouldn't we live then! The first thing would be
to put the park in order again; it looks like a primeval forest now. And then the old box of a chateau must be painted
afresh. And then a house full of guests every day, and at
night colored Chinese lamps all around the lake here, and
little gondolas and bal champetre! Grands dieux/ How
angry Aunt Selma would be! and Cousin Cuno and that
divine Odo! Did I tell you, Camilla, what a brilliant compliment Cuno paid me last night at the cotillon?"
"Well! " asked Camilla, raising her lustrous eyes, full of
curiosity.
"'Upon honor, cousin!'" and the young girl drew her heels
together and twisted an imaginary little moustache on her
upper lip; "'upon honor, cousin, I am in a cruel quandary.
When I dance with Camilla, I think I must marry her; and
when I dance with you, it seems to me a duty to jilt your
sister.' "
"Foolish fop!" said Camilla, disfiguring her beautiful
mouth by a sneer.
"Dear children," said the mother, "you ought to try and
put yourselves in such a position that you can choose among
your beaux, like your Aunt Antonia. It is in your power.
Do what you can to keep your granduncle in good humor.
But this way of treating us is really too bad. Even'madame' does not show herself. Let us go back to the house




The House of fIohenslein.          7
and see if we cannot at least get something to eat. I am
nearly faint with hunger."
" Come, dear mamma! " said Aurelia, offering her mother
her arm.
"Camilla, you can take the flowers!-to be sure we might
just as well throw them into the lake."
The ladies had taken a few steps, when they saw one of
the blue curtains, on which they still fixed their longing
looks, slowly rise. Behind the window-panes appeared a
gigantic figure with a white night-cap on the head, and the
upper part of the body wrapped in a white flannel jacket.
The lower part was hid below the window.
"Our uncle-our granduncle!" exclaimed mother and
daughters in one breath.
The white figure half opened the window and leaned out.
"Good morning, uncle! —-good morning, dearest granduncle! " cried the ladies.
The distance between them and the house might be about
a hundred yards; only a piece of the garden and the lake
lay between. It seemed impossible that the general should
not see them. Nevertheless it looked as if he did not. He
turned his head to the right; he turned his head to the left;
he leaned out still further and looked into the gooseberry
bushes under the window.
"Here! here!" cried the ladies, waving their handkerchiefs.
The general rose to his full length, held his wrinkled
hand over his bushy eyebrows, and looked carefully up at
the sky. After discovering nobody up there who could possibly have called to him, he seemed to give the thing up in
despair. He shook his night-cap and carefully closed the
window.
" lere! here!" cried the ladies, but with doleful voices.
The next moment the blue curtain was down again.
" Ie did not see us," the mother cried, almost in tears.
" Oh, he did not want to see us! " said Aurelia. " Don't
mind it, darling mamma, we will do all we can to please
granduncle. It is really too grand a thought to be able to
give a ball here! "
Merry Aurelia seized her mother around her waist, and
drew her, laughing, towards the chateau. Camilla followed




8              The House of Hohenstein.
slowly. With her finely arched brows contracted, and the
silken lashes hanging low over her melancholy eyes, she
reflected how she could manage, in what way she could contrive that her granduncle should leave all his property to
her, Camilla Hohenstein, to the exclusion of all the other
members of the family.
CHAPTER        II.
W      HEN the ladies came into the court-yard, through a
dilapidated, ivy-covered portal, they did not see
their own carriage, which had been put under cover,
but a couple of saddle-horses, led by a groom, and an open
barouche, from which the horses had just been taken. This
sight put the ladies, if possible, into still worse humor. For
while they had been wasting their time in the garden, the
colonel's family had arrived, had been announced, and was
probably now with the general.
" But I shall tell granduncle that we have been here these
two hours," cried the old lady, roused by so many mishaps
from her usual phlegmatic repose and going hurriedly towards the chateau.
When they reached the broad open entrance, however,
the ladies found that they had been needlessly excited. In
the large hall, with its tessellated floor and its galleries
above, they found the other Baroness Hohenstein, the colonel's wife, and her two sons, Lieutenant Cuno and Ensign
Odo, evidently in very bad humor and almost frightened at
the sight of their relatives.
"What, you here, dearest Clotilda! " said the new-comer,
quickly recovering herself and meeting her sister-in-law with
open arms.
"As you see, dearest Selma!" was the reply, followed by
a very slight embrace.
" Oh, how charming! When did you come?-and the girls
too! How fresh you look-like roses! Not a trace of last
night. Young gentlemen, you ought to follow your cousin's
example."




The House of Hohenstein.            9
It certainly looked as if the two young men ought to have
followed somebody's example instead of their own. If their
sallow complexions, their watery eyes, and their general
lassitude were only "traces of last night," they were at all
events very marked traces. The ensign, especially, looked
fearfully worsted.  His face, with the tender down just
appearing, had an expression of old age about it, such as is
frequently found in infants and apes. The lieutenant was
somewhat better preserved, the result of a stronger constitution, rather than of superior principles. Both of the young
men were tall, blond, and rather handsome, and in all of
these qualities the images of their mother.
The two elderly ladies met each other very cautiously, in
*spite of their apparent cordiality, and somewhat like two
gamblers who have recognized each other after the first deal,
and yet are forced to play the game out in order to avoid a
scene. The colonel's wife played her part best. She was so
sorry she had not thought of it last night, or they might have
come out together. The colonel was to join them by the
steamer, at two o'clock. Was the president also coming up?
How very charming that was! Dear old uncle is no doubt
in bed yet. We have been standing here for a quarter of an
hour, and Kilian-is not Kilian his name?-whom we have
sent in with our names, has not come back yet. Madame
also is nowhere to be seen. Have you seen the old creature? No? why, children, then you are even worse off than
we are. But why did you start so early? and the poor flowers,
all faded! But why did you get such expensive flowers?
You have spent a little fortune, I declare. Look at mine!
They keep better and do not cost half as much."
"We are not all of us such good managers as you are,
Aunt Selma," remarked Aurelia, wishing to come to her
mother's assistance.
"That is because we have not a large fortune to spend,"
replied her aunt, alluding to their well-known extravagance.
It is not improbable that in the momentarily excited state
of mind of both parties, the discussion might have degenerated into an exchange of sharp and insulting speeches-such
things had happened before-if Mrs. Bridget.had not appeared at that moment on the gallery above, an immense
mob-cap on her head and a large bunch of keys in her belt.
It




IO            The House of IHohensfein.
After inspecting the company from her vantage ground for a
while and quietly enjoying their miserable plight, she came
down the stone staircase so slowly that the exalted and noble
assembly below had ample time to prepare themselves for the
disgraceful part they had to play. The colonel's wife was
the first to undergo her punishment. She hastened to meet
"madame;" seized her, as soon as she came down the last
step, by both hands, and said: "Dear, good madame! how
are you! How very well you look! I declare you look
younger every year."
" That is more than can be said of most people," replied
Dame Bridget, dryly.
But the diplomatic lady was not so easily overcome.
"And how is his excellency, our dear uncle? Not up yet,
they tell me! You must let him sleep on, the dear old
gentleman. Better that we should wait an hour longer than
that he should lose his rest."'' His excellency has had a very bad night and cannot
rise before four o'clock this afternoon," said Bridget, having
received the homage of the president's wife and daughters
with the same offensive condescensions.
" The young gentlemen will prefer taking a walk in the
garden, I dare say, while I show the ladies to their rooms.
Breakfast will be on the table in an hour."
Aurelia and her mother exchanged woe-begone glances at
these words, but none of the ladies dared say a word against
the decrees of the all-powerful housekeeper. Silently they
followed her up the broad staircase, and passively submitted
to being shown into the meanest and most uncomfortable
rooms that could be found in the whole house.
The young men went into the park as madame had suggested, and sauntered about between the untrimmed hedges
and the neglected flower-beds. Their conversation was as
lively as it is apt to be between brothers. The lassitude
they felt after the dissipation of last night, and which the
ride on horseback had made them forget for a while, returned now more distressingly.
" I am tired as a dog," said Cuno, sitting down on a decayed wooden bench, and stretching out his legs.
"Do you think I am not?" said Odo, following his elder
brother's example.




The House of fIohenstein.          11
The brothers observed perfect silence, till Cuno suddenly
asked:
" Did you tell the old one?"
" When could I tell her?" replied Odo, angryly, and looking a few years older than usual.
" It is high time though."
"I know it," growled Odo in the same tone.
" Well, you may do as you choose," said the older brother,
yawning.
" It is easy enough for you to talk! " cried the other one,
bitterly; "who was it that Insisted upon cards last night,
when no one else wanted to play?"
" But who told you to bet so madly?"
"Nice question! I should think you knew what I want
money for."
"That wretch Mollendorf had his usual good lucl," said
the lieutenant.
" Ah! I don't mind Mollendorf," replied the ensign; "he
will wait a few days and give me my revenge; but Abraham
won't wait. It is enough to kill a man," and the young man's
stupid eyes glared with despair.
" How much is it?"
" Fifty louis, and I haven't a penny left! "
" That's why I say you ought to tell the old one and lose
no time."
" But the old one will be beside herself; and if the governor
hears of it  "
Odo jumped up from his seat and walked up and down a
few times; then he threw himself on the bench again.
" Can't you give me some advice, Cuno?"
The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "I have no credit
anywhere," he growled.
"It is a real dog's life," began Odo once more, after a
pause; " our miserable pay and a few dollars pocket money,
as if a man could live decently upon that! and the governor
never has any money. Upon my word I should like to know
what he does with it."
" He does not bury it, you may be sure of that!" sneered
the older brother with a grin.
"But then he ought not to ride the high horse with us as
he does, What is good for him is good for us."




12            The House of Hohenstein.
"Maybe!-but that don't help you out of your trouble,"
said the lieutenant. "What do you say, Odo, suppose you
were to tell him? "-he pointed with his sword at the chateau
-" perhaps he has his good day to-day."
"Cuno, you must be mad!" cried Odo, staring at his
brother with undisguised amazement.
"When the devil is hungry, he will eat flies," said the
lieutenant.
Odo reflected on the suggestion like a man who has been
advised to save his life by jumping down from a tower three
hundred feet high. He shook his head.
" Can't be done," he murmured. "Out of the question.
I'd rather tell the old one."
" Or if you were to write to Aunt Antonia?"
" In the first place she is out of town; and secondly, I
don't believe she would bleed again; we have bled her too
often lately; I'll talk to the old one, she'll find some way."
" That is probably the best thing you can do," said the
lieutenant, shutting the penknife with which he had been
trimming his nails, and rising. " I think our time is out 
let us see if we can get something to eat; nice feed it will
be, I dare say."
"The company met at the appointed time in the small
breakfast-room, under madame's direction, but the meal surpassed even the lieutenant's dismal expectations. The eggs
were far from fresh, the ham tough, the bread sour, and the
butter strong. And yet the guests praised it all, and the
lieutenant even declared that the sour home-made wine was
delicious.
After breakfast the president's wife proposed a walk
down to the village to meet the steamer on which the president and the colonel were to come up about this time. They
all started, except Camilla, who complained of a headache
and begged to be excused.
The ensign saw that the hour had come when he must
tell his mother his troubles, if they were to be told at all. He
offered her his arm, and managed it so that they fell behind
while the lieutenant honored his aunt and Aurelia with his
conversation. Unfortunately, Odo found his mother in a
terrible state of mind, which seemed to be very unfavorable
to his plans. She spoke in terms which hardly appeared




The House of ]ohenstein.           13
quite suitable for the daughter of the great Count DurenLilienfeld, of the insults she had endured, called Dame
Bridget an old witch, her sister-in-law a deceitful cat, the
young ladies detestable doll-babies-and whatever else she
could think of to give relief to her passionate and malignant
temper.
" But I shall drive back this evening," she wound up;
"I won't let the dogs keep me awake all night long, whatever
your father may say to the contrary; but any way he does
not seem to trouble himself much about my wishes of late!"
For the ensign this was probably the worst turn the conversation could possibly take; but despair gives courage.
He begged his mother for heaven's sake not to irritate the
colonel, as he-the ensign-was "in an awful fix;" and then
came the doleful story, accompanied by a pitiful smile, which
was intended to be humorous. He told her how he had
borrowed from the Jew Abraham fifty louis in order to pay
a debt of honor, and how Abraham now threatened him to
report the matter to Odo's colonel if the sum was not forthcoming by to-morrow noon; that the colonel, a man of horribly old-fashioned notions, would make a great ado about
the "miserable trifle," and that Odo was in great danger of
being cashiered if the affaire was not "buried" in some
way or other. A drop causes overflow in a vessel already
full to the edge. To his mother's angry spirit Odo's words
were that drop. She was beside herself, as he had prophesied. If she did not box his ears, it was only because she
did not wish to afford her sister-in-law such a triumph; she
was content, therefore, to call the future commander a goodfor-nothing boy, a miserable creature, a wretch, who was fast
sending his poor mother into the grave.
The ensign had been exposed to the fire of his mother's
wrath too often not to know how to stand it. He let his
mother rage until he saw that her passionate heat was on
the point of dissolving into tears, and then he said with well
played resignation:
"Never mind, dear mamma; all your scolding does not
bring me the money, for which I care more for your sake
than my own. At the worst, I can only get a few weeks at
the guard-house, and then I shall be cashiered; but I am
sorry for papa, because in his position the thing would be




14             The House of Zohenstein.
rather disagreeable to him. And then I am sorry for you,
too, because aunt and the others will never stop talking
about it."
The cunning fellow had presented his affair in the most
favorable aspect by these suggestions. Mamma forgot entirely that by encouraging the young man's recklessness she
was only smoothing for him the descent to Avernus. She
only thought of her husband's comrades, how they would
shrug their shoulders in pity for him; and of the secret joy of
her sister-in-law, and the other ladies of her acquaintanceand then Odo had always been her favorite, and, great God-!
how pale and wretched the poor boy looked!
" I will see what can be done," she said, once more taking
her son's arm, which she had dropped in the first explosion
of her wrath; "I will speak to your father.  Now don't
worry yourself, or you'll really be sick. Above all, don't let
your aunt find out anything. Let us walk a little faster, so
they may not notice our staying behind."
But this staying behind had been noticed and correctly
interpreted by Aurelia's shrewdness. "That dear Odo undoubtedly has heavy sins to confess," she said. "Where
did you young gentlemen go to last night, after leaving us?
Brinkman, whom we met riding out this morning, suggested
that you had probably had cards at Catalini's."
"Oh pshaw, cousin, how can you imagine we would care
for the excitement of cards after the excitement of a ball?especially of such a delightful ball."
"To be sure," replied Aurelia; "how could he think so?
When the ladies are perfectly crazy about a man, what does
he care for the queens of cards."
"And yet, if report speaks truly, your avowed admirer,
Brinkman, does not dislike those queens particularly."
"Who says Brinkman is an admirer of mine?" asked the
young girl, not without some vehemence.
" Well, I don't think he was in the saddle at six o'clock in
the morning for nothing," laughed the lieutenant.
"I think you are carrying the joke a little too far, dear
Cuno," said the president's wife, coming to the assistance of
her daughter, who really liked the young officer of hussars
particularly well.
"I did not commence teasing," said Cuno.




ThzJ HIouse of Hohenstein.         15
"But then you are a gentleman, and must submit to the
ladies, without becoming personal."
Cuno was on the point of replying, but he thought it more
prudent not to irritate the mother of beautiful Camilla, whom
he loved as far as he could love, partly for her beauty, and
partly from vanity. But the conversation flagged, and they
were quite willing, therefore, to rejoin the two who had stayed
behind, although they also were in a frame of mind which
was not very favorable for brisk conversation. Fortunately
they had no sooner reached the village of Rheinfeld, than they
saw the steamboat come down the river. A yawl pushed
off to bring the passengers to shore, and in a few minutes the
two brothers were on the wharf.
The two brothers Hohenstein resembled each other in
nothing but their thinness and their height. Philip, the
president, was from the crown of his small, well-shaped
head with the dark, short hair, silvered here and there, down
to the soles of his varnished boots, every inch the high official of the old school. His face was shaven smoothly so as
to bring out more clearly his finely-cut features, and his
whole appearance was in unison with his calm, diplomatic
manner, his low voice, and even the fine broadcloth of his
dress-coat, with the ribbon of the Order of the Falcon in the
Button-hole.
If the president betrayed his desire to please almost too
manifestly, the colonel was apparently quite careless about
the impression he produced. His face was as little attractive as possible, with its sunburnt complexion, and its beard
dyed black, but kept short according to army regulations.
His gray eyes had that fixedness which betrays an unamiable, violent temper. His voice had become unpleasantly
rough and hoarse, probably from over-exertion on parade, if
not in-consequence of an organic defect. To look at the
man, one would not have doubted much the stories that were
current about his rudeness and brutality towards inferiors,
for even his gallantry to ladies had something sneering and
cynical about it, a peculiarity which is not uncommon in dissipated men.
Such were the two men who were met on the wharf by
their families. There seemed to-day to be an evil star influencing the fate of the whole Hohenstein family; for it was




i6            The House of Hohenstein.
evident, at the first glance, that the two gentlemen also were
not in the best humor in the world. The colonel had been
intensely annoyed by the conduct of some young men on
board the boat, who had been singing republican songs,
hurrahing for Schleswig Holstein, and actually cheering for
a German republic. He had been persuaded with much
difficulty, by the president, to go down into the cabin in
order to avoid the young men, who were evidently disposed
to provoke the frowning officer. Below, in the cabin, the two
brothers had talked about politics; and in the course of the
conversation, the colonel had accused the president of cowardice, adding to this charge others which even the most
diplomatic mind is not always willing or able to bear in
patience.
Thus they walked, one behind the other, in very bad humor,
through the wheat-fields and the vineyards towards the chateau. The colonel led with his wife, who dared not just then
trouble her husband with Odo's unlucky affairs; then followed the president and his ladies, who confided to him thedoleful occurrences of the morning; and last of all came
the two young men, who did not think it worth while to
manufacture conversation.
— oCHAPTER III.
IN the meantime Camilla had tried her best to make use
of the hour for the plan that her cunning little head had
conceived in the morning; and since fortune favors the
fair, as is but natural, she had not lost her time nor her
trouble.
Mother and sister and relations had no sooner left the
house, than the young lady'made her way to "madame,"
who was in the kitchen, and asked the great ministerfor a
little vinegar to bathe her aching temples. So modest a request could not well be refused, especially as it was made in
the kindest and most humble manner. She had given the
young lady her vinegar; and as the latter seemed to be near




The House of Hohenstein.          I7
fainting, when she left the kitchen with profuse thanks on
her lips, madame had actually felt something like human
kindness, and condescended, in her sympathy, to bathe the
beautiful brow with her own hands. But her hard, bony
fingers had no sooner pushed the hair from the temples,
than two soft eyes glanced up at her, two pretty hands
seized her bony claws, and a sweet voice whispered: "Ah!
how good that feels! How very kind and dear you are!'"
Mrs. Bridget was startled. The praise sounded too strange
to her ears, unaccustomed as they were to such language,
and she was cunning and suspicious at once. She cast a
sidelong glance at the young girl, and said in her dry, cold
way:
"Death alone can be had for nothing. What are you
after? "
" How do you mean, madame?" said the young girl with
admirably feigned ingenuousness.
"Why is miss so very gracious all of a sudden?" said
Bridget, sneeringly. " Do you think I am stupid enough to
believe all the fine things the great people from town come
and tell me? Do you think I do not know that all of you,
yes, every one of you, would treat me like a dog if I did not
happen to have some influence over that one-" and she
pointed at the door which led to the inner apartments.
"But, my dearest, best madame," cried the girl, raising
her voice as if in great indignation; "how can you be so
suspicious. I dare say people flatter you, and most of what
they say is not true; but I am sure I have never given you
cause for such a suspicion.  I assure you I mean what I
say. I have the best disposition towards you."
"Hush! hush!" growled Bridget, squinting more fearfully than ever; " much cry and little wool! I verily believe
you wish   "
Mrs. Bridget had not time to say what she thought the
young lady wished to do, for suddenly the general's hoarse,
hollow voice was heard from the adjoining room:
"What is the matter, Bridget? With whom are you talking?"
"Did not I say so! " screamed the old woman. "Make
haste and get out of here; are you going?"
But it was too late, even if the young lady had been more




I8            The House of Hohenstein.
prompt than she chose to be; for the door opened, and the
general appeared on the threshold, in his velvet dressinggown and with the white night-cap still on his head.
The general had not seen his great-niece for a year (in the
garden, just now, he had refused to see her), and the young
lady's beauty had in the meantime come out so fully, that he
thought he saw her now for the first time, as she stood there,
really embarrassed, at a little distance before him, her
cheeks blushing, her eyes raised imploringly to him, and her
hands lifted up half-way, as if to deprecate his displeasure.
"See there, little witch!" he said, and his bushy eyebrows kept winking up and down; "why does the monkey
stand there as if a thunderbolt had come down upon her?
Do you think your granduncle is going to eat you up alive?
You are pretty enough, to be sure! Come here and kiss
your old uncle!"
Camilla cast a quick glance at Bridget, who stood by,
trembling in all her limbs; then she hastened towards her
granduncle and pressed her rosy lips repeatedly upon his
rough hands.
"Don't be afraid of her," said the general, who had noticed Camilla's look; "she is not quite as bad as she looks
just now, and likes to see her old excellency have a tete-dtcte with a pretty little gosling, especially when that gosling
is his grandniece. Come in here, little witch, and you, old
one, go to your work."
With these words the general drew the girl closer to him,
while Bridget left the room, murmuring some unintelligible
words between her teeth.
The old man grinned sneeringly after her. "Ready to
burst with anger," he said; " wish she would do it; wouldn't
send for the doctor to patch her up again. Now come, little
witch, that's right! "
The general rested his arm on. the girl's neck and let her
lead him through the adjoining room-his bed-chamber-into
the next room. Here he seated himself in a comfortable
arm-chair, while Camilla, who knew his ways, busily brought
up a footstool and wrapped his feet in a woollen blanket.
"Why, you are a trump of a girl," said the old man,
chucking her under her round chin with his trembling hands,
as she knelt down before him; "you do it as deftly as if




The House of Hohenstein.           I9
you had never in your life done anything else but wrap my
old bones in flannel, and you are as pretty as sin, too; even
your enemies cannot deny that."
"I am glad if I please you, dear granduncle," said Camilla, rising and smiling roguishly at the old general.
" Glad? Why should you be glad? "
"Because you might keep me here a little while and let
me nurse you, granduncle, and that would delight me," said
Camilla, taking one of the old gentleman's hands and pressing it to her bosom.
"Why, upon my word! " laughed the old man; "how the
girl talks; like a book! Would delight her-nurse me!
You have learnt your lesson well; you shall have a lump of
sugar, little parrot. Well, well, you need not blush! As
the old ones sing, the young ones twitter."
" I am not a parrot, granduncle," said the young lady;
"what I say, I mean."
"Do you? Really?   And if I took you at your word,
how long would you stand it here, with your old uncle? "
"That would depend, granduncle. Let me stay with you;
and when you are tired of me, you can send me back again."
" The girl is not as stupid as she looks," said the general
with an undisguised admiration. "I really believe you
might manage the old woman."
" Why not, granduncle, if you will only be kind to me, and
not scold the good woman in my presence, as you did just
now. 
"She is really not so bad," repeated the general; "it
would be a good joke-what's the matter now?"
Kilian, the surly servant, announced that the ladies and
gentlemen were all there now, and madame wanted to know
if dinner should be brought in.
" Yes, in the devil's name! Can't you leave me alone a
moment?"
The man was about to go out. "Halt! Front face! "
cried the general. "Come back here! Dress me! People
to the dining-room! One general mess. And now run away,
little monkey. We'll see about it."
Camilla kissed her granduncle's hands repeatedly and
disappeared through a door which led from the room into
the park.




20            The Iouse of  ohenslein.
CHAPTER IV.
AQUARTER of an hour later all the visitors at Rheinfeld were assembled in the "great hall" in the second
story, where dinner was laid.
The great hall was a magnificent room, extending almost
through the whole depth of the chateau; for the enormous,
richly-gilt entrance-door opened upon the gallery of the hall
below, and the two lofty glass-doors on the other smaller
side of the room gave access to the large stone balcony,
which was borne up by four columns and overhung the park.
From the longer sides two doors in each led to other apartments. From the lofty ceiling with rich stucco ornaments
hung three immense chandeliers of Bohemian crystal.
Large oil paintings covered the walls.  Upon the two
mantelpieces stood costly vases and other vessels of Sevres
and Dresden china. Although modern taste might object
to some details of this splendor, dating back to the beginning of the last century; although the frescoes were generally very coarse, and the paintings of at least doubtful
character; and although the broad gilt frames, as well as
the damask coverings of the furniture, showed the effects of
age -the whole made, after all, an imposing impression,
which could not easily be shaken off..
The faces of the visitors betrayed this very clearly. The
mountain which seemed to have weighed upon the minds of
all of them during the whole forenoon, was apparently
heavier than ever. They spoke little, and what they said
was whispered.  They walked cautiously on the smooth
inlaid floor, or stood close to the walls, gazing at the naked
gods and goddesses and the fat Chinese pagodas, as if it
was the first time they had seen all this splendor. Only
Camilla showed more composure, and her brown eyes
beamed with a triumphant smile, as she stood there, leaning
one hand upon the high back of a chair, and watching the
disturbed, pitiful looks of the others. She had not said a
word of the strange interview with her granduncle to any
one, not even to her own family.
His excellency kept them waiting a long time.  The




The House of Hohens/ein.          2I
president went up to his brother and said, looking at his
watch:
"Three o'clock!-we shall be late. You are going back
to-night, are you not?"
"I and the boys, most assuredly," growled the colonel,
"have to be at our posts; the drums may beat at any moment
nowadays.  Selma may stay; though I hardly think she
will; she is horribly out of humor."
"Well, that is the case with all of us more or less, I should
think," whispered the president. "For my part, I do not
like these visits. Apropos of visits! Arthur called yesterday. Of course I was not at home to him."
"He called on me, too," said the colonel, surprised. "I
was not in. What can it mean?"
The president shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps election
matters-Arthur is a great man in the Reform League nowadays. I have been almost sorry I did not see him. As
matters are just now, it might have been wiser to renew our
relations. No one can tell."
"Of course," sneered the colonel, "worship the rising
sun! You don't think that foolish thing can stand?"
"No; but we can drop him again when all is over."
"Do as you like," said the colonel, rudely; "I do not
want to have anything to do with the blackguard. There
comes the old man."
The large folding-doors opened and his excellency entered, leaning on his valet on one side and on Bridget on
the other. He was in full uniform, with which the huge
flannel shoes on his feet formed a most ludicrous contrast.
Thus he shuffled around the room, without stopping near
any one, merely nodding right and left to the company, who
bowed and offered congratulations.
" Ah! bon jour / bon jour / Happy to see my dear relatives. Sit down wherever you find a seat; this little witch
will sit near me!"
Camilla, who had been waiting for his command, hastened
up and helped the old gentleman into his arm-chair and then
sat down by his side, assuming a most modest air. Bridget
took her seat opposite the general, behind the soup-tureen,
and the others arranged themselves around the table, as
chance directed.




22             The House of H-ohenstein.
The feast at Macbeth's royal castle cannot have been
more melancholy than that dinner at Castle Hohenstein.
Instead of the one honest ghost of Banquo, there were I
know not how many ghosts present here; they poisoned the
bread and wine, darkened the hearts and the brows, paralyzed the tongues and falsified the words, so that it looked
positively incomprehensible how beings endowed with reason could voluntarily submit to such torture. The old man
was ruder than ever; coarse with the men, cynical with the
women, full of scorn for them all, not excepting even Ca-.milla, although he pinched that young lady's cheeks from time
to time and called her his "pretty little witch." He was
almost the only one who talked, he told long stories about
the wars, about plundering and sacking towns and other horrors, which ordinarily are carefully avoided in good society
where ladies are present. Then he talked of the time after
the war, when he had bought Rheinfeld and the adjoining
estate with the fortune he had inherited from his'father and
the ample prize money he had earned, at the same time that
his brother, the father of the two Hohensteins present, had
become civil governor of the province. And then came a
chapter in the family record, which everybody present knew
by heart, as the old man had told it over and over again with
ever new delight-the chapter of the increasing wealth of
the general and the gradual impoverishment of the governor.
"And how did that come about, Selma?   I'll tell you.
Because my poor devil of a brother had married an immensely great and noble damsel, who had not a red cent of
her own, but on the other hand-can you imagine such people, Clotilda?-an eminent talent for spending money, and
an equally strange capacity of recruiting her army at home;
every fall a new levy! How many were you in all, Philip?"
" Eight," whispered the president.
" And now there are three left; and I, old ten-pin that I
am, I am still standing, and hope to see one or the other topple over, before I fall. But how has it turned out so? Because I have kept away from women-or at least, because I
have been wise enough never to take one that I could not
send away again when I disliked her-a housekeeper or
some such thing."
In this strain he continued until an accidental allusion




The Huise of Hohenseint.         23
to the politics of the day gave the others an opportunity to
be heard; whereupon the colonel, as usual, launched forth
in the most violent denunciations against "those accursed
republicans and communists," thus giving vent to his momentarily increasing wrath.
"I wish I were master for only a month," he cried in his
hoarse, angry voice, " and from here to the Russian frontier
there should not be one of them that did not creep into a
mouse-hole as soon as a bayonet came near him. But instead of knocking the rabble over with canister, they go to
work and negotiate and hold'meetings for consultations
about the constitution!' On the first of May they are
to begin. My brother competes with a dismissed college
tutor, a miserable book writer-I believe the fellow's name
is Doctor Munzer-for the honor of being elected a member
of this honorable assembly. Isn't that enough to make a
man mad?"
"Dear brother," whispered the president, "we shall-"
"Speak louder!" cried the general; "no one can hear
your whining."
The president blushed and continued with somewhat louder
voice:
" I was only going to say, dear uncle, that my good brother,
in his quick, military way, does not make due allowance for
the spirit of the times. No one, I am sure, can be more
averse than I am to this whole unnatural movement, which
we have imported from France, and which a few restless
agitators keep alive and propagate in our midst. But I
think that when a mad bull comes roaring against us, and
threatening to gore us, it is wiser to get out of his way than
to try and seize him by the horns. The bull is sure to run
against a wall; and when he is down, stunned and helpless,
it is easy to bind the brute and carry him back to the stall.
It seems to me, that is just the case with this movement. A
parliamentary government is all nonsense; the rabble is the
rabble, and the poor cannot be helped by all the wild theories of socialists and communists. When the people are
tired of crying themselves hoarse, they will see all this themselves; which does not mean, however "-the president smiled
-" that I should not think it expedient to help them occasionally with a few tangible arguments in hominem."




24             The House of Hohenslein.
"What do you call occasionally?" said the colonel. "It
seems to me that it is best-to fight for the king at all times.
If you once admit these'consultations' and'constitutions,'
and whatever else they call this nonsense, you will soon see
what concessions you will have to make, in spite of all your
wisdom."
"Perhaps matters are not quite so bad yet, my dear
brother," replied the president. "When two parties meet
for reconciliation and there is no umpire appointed, the
stronger of the two must get the better of the other. Therefore such an assembly as this has the fatal germ of destruction in it from the beginning; or do you think, my dear
brother, I would be a candidate for a seat if it were not sure
to be so?"
"And the meeting at Frankfurth?"
The president smiled. " That dream of German unity,"
he said, "will soon come to an end. The Germans wear
republican beards, but in their hearts they are very good
monarchists. They will not touch their sovereigns; and
until the Hohenzollerns, and the Hapsburgs, the Guelphs,
and the Ghibellines have all agreed on a constitution, until
then many a year will pass and things remain as they are."
"Well, and how do things look in town?" asked the general.
" Apparently pretty bad," replied the president; "we are
in the midst of great agitation about the elections. The
opposition is in trouble; they do not know whom to send
to Berlin and whom to Frankfurth, especially as they have
not exactly an abundance of able men. The leaders, too,
are at variance with each other. There are their radicals
who wish to upset the whole government, and to build up
their Utopia on the tabula rasa, with their head, Doctor
Munzer. He is president of the Republican League, as they
call it, and has the masses on his side, because he is-nominally, at least-a Catholic, and a native of this district. By
the side of this radical party there is a so-called constitutional party, which does not desire a general overthrow, and
which includes all moderate men, from the strictly conservative royalist to the liberal lover of progress. Their every
other word is'Constitution.' I confess I have thought it
expedient, as times are, to join this latter party, for a while




The House of Hohenstein.          25
at least, although that brings me in contact with people
whom I would otherwise carefully avoid.
During this conversation the dessert had been brought in;
and as the general, quite contrary to his usual habit, had
encouraged his guests to drink, by word and example, a
somewhat better tone began to prevail, when suddenly the
low rumbling of a carriage was heard from the court-yard.
The general gave the housekeeper an almost imperceptible
sign with his bushy brows, and Mrs. Bridget left the table.
None of the other guests noticed this, for the general had
immediately asked:
"Well, and your brother Arthur? I see in the papers
that he delivers great speeches in your club!"
For some years the general had never spoken of this
third son of his brother, and seemed to be hardly aware that
he was still among the living. It was quite natural, therefore, that this mention of Uncle Arthur excited universal attention, even among the younger members of the company,
especially as his excellency had asked the question in a peculiarly loud tone.
"That is one of the drawbacks to which I alluded," said
the president. "You know how entirely my political views
differ from those of my unfortunate brother, and how I
have thought it due to my position-like Gisbert-to break
off all intercourse with a man who was not ashamed to give
a Miss Schmitz the name of Hohenstein, and yet"-the
president shrugged his shoulders-" the thing cannot be
helped. If we do not wish to lose all influence over the
people, we must —"
<" Sit down to table with publicans and sinners," the general added sneeringly; " why not? Wouldn't we put our legs
under the devil's mahogany-for a consideration? Wouldn't
we, colonel? "
The colonel thought it his duty to clear his skirts of such
an imputation, both because he was a soldier and because
his views seemed to agree with the general's.
"By no means," he said. "I, for my part, would never
sacrifice my own convictions for the sake of any advantage
I could obtain. Arthur has cut himself off from us by his
plebeian match and his republican views, which are doubly
disgraceful in him as an ex-officer. We have done nothing.
2




26            The House of Hohenstein.
He has to blame no one but himself, therefore, if we show
him our contempt."
During this little speech the general had looked so frequently at the door, knitting his eye-brows most oddly and
twisting his huge white moustache most energetically, that
all except the colonel were struck by it, and felt that something extraordinary was about to happen.
" How sorry I am to hear that," cried the general; "for it
embarrasses me sorely. I thought I would be doing wondrously well if I should bring you all together once more in
my old days; but, to be sure, if matters stand thus-I fear it
is too late now-well, did not I say so? Here we have it! "
The huge folding-doors opened suddenly and in walked a
stately gentleman, who had a beautiful pale woman on his
arm. Behind him came a tall young man. When they had
entered, the doors closed once more.
The arrival of Uncle Arthur with his wife and his son
Wolfgang, who was a student, was so unexpected and, to
most of the family, so very embarrassing, that they rose from
their chairs electrified, and with them the old general, overtopping them by a head, and crying out sneeringly:
"Shall I say grace, children? I hope dinner may agree
well with you, children! tis so pretty to see brethren dwell
together in peace and harmony. Good-day, nephew! That
is your wife, eh?-and that your son? Glad to make your
acquaintance.  Here are your dear relatives - Baroness
Hohenstein, nee Countess Duren-Lilienfeld  "
"I have the honor," said the good lady, pale with anger,
but courtesying very politely.
"Ah! you have the honor? Glad to hear it," cried the
old gentleman; "is more than I expected. Have you also
the honor, Clotilda?"
" Of course, of course!" replied the president's wife; "we
have met frequently, though not directly. I am very glad to
make your personal acquaintance; I am heartily glad!" and
the diplomatic lady went up to the fair, pale new-comer, who
was trembling with excitement, and embraced her warmly.
"These are my daughters, Aurelia and Camilla. Dear
children, this is you aunt —"
"Margaret," supplied the pale lady, smiling, when the
president's wife suddenly paused, very much embarrassed. 




The House of I7ohenstein.         27
"What a pretty name! " exclaimed Camilla, shaking hands
with enthusiasm.
While Arthur turned to his brothers and was received by
the president with smooth politeness and by the colonel with
haughty coldness, Wolfgang had bowed to the whole company collectively and was now quietly standing aside, looking fixedly at his mother, as if the whole scene had no interest
for him, except so far as it concerned her.
"And what is your name?" suddenly cried the general,
stepping up to the young man and examining him in his rude
way from head to foot.
"Wolfgang! " replied the youth, by no means intimidated
by the sharp eyes under the nervous brows.
"How old?"
"Twenty-one!"
"What are you doing?"
"I am studying law. But, I beg your pardon, I see
mamma wants me."
And Wolfgang, bowing slightly, turned from the general,
who looked at him in surprise, and went to his mother, whom
he asked: "Wouldn't better sit down, mamma?"
He took the pale lady, who had indeed been growing
weaker every moment, by the arm, and led her to an armchair outside of the circle by which she was surrounded,
saying to her in a low voice: "You are quite exhausted,
mamma; you would better rest a while."
" But what will  "
"The people say? Let them take care of themselves!
I'll stay with you."
In the meantime the general had enjoyed the beautiful
family scene which he had so ingeniously prepared.
" Shall I say grace, children?" he cried.  "You must
amuse yourselves as best you can. I must say good-by till
to-morrow. Or do any of you possibly wish to say good-by
now?"
During- these words the general looked hard at the
colonel and his family.
The colonel had been talking aside and in a low whisper
to his wife and his sons. He wished to leave; he did not
want to be fooled any longer; the whole scene had evidently
been arranged by the old man for their mortification.




28             The House of Hohenstein.
Selma was too clever and too cunning not to see how matters stood, and comprehended at once that it was best to
make a virtue of necessity; hence she would have liked to
compromise, but the colonel would not listen; and although
under other circumstances she would probably have insisted
upon playing the game out at her own risk, she was now
compelled by Odo's threatening embarrassment to follow
her angry husband. The general's last words could not be
misunderstood, and decided the matter.
They went up to him, as he was taking his servant's arm,
and said:
"Unfortunately, I have to beg leave to say good-by for
myself and my children; duty calls me back to town."
"Want to go? Well, go with God's blessing, children, go
with God's blessing," said the old man; and as he said this
he nodded his bald head so constantly, and the bristles over
his eyes jerked so spasmodically, that there was no mistaking his delight at the success of his trick.
The president also came up to say good-by for himself.
"For yourself?" cried the general; "no objection! but
your women folks will stay. Not a word! Madame. show
the Baroness Arthur Hohenstein to her rooms.  6randnephew Wolfgang, entertain the ladies; show them that you
know something besides law. And you, nephew Arthur,
give me your arm and help me to my room. I want to talk
to you."
-- 0CHAPTER V.
T noon of the next day, not one of the whole company
but Camilla and Wolfgang was left at Rheinfeld.
The president's wife, who had gone to town with the
others, was expected back in the evening, but she was evidently invited only for the purpose of serving as dame
d'honneur to her beautiful daughter.  Nor did she herself
look at it otherwise. She had embraced her dear Camilla
the night before with tears in her eyes, congratulating her
on the favorable impression she seemed to have made on




The House of Hohenstein.         29
the granduncle. The alderman also had left the general,
after a second interview, in a state of great excitement;
and drawing his son aside, had told him that the reconciliation with his granduncle was complete, and that he derived
from this first step the most pleasing expectations for the
future. The general had told him in terms as obliging as
those in which his letter of invitation had been written, that
he wished to keep his grandnephew at Rheinfeld a few
days, since it was partly his (the general's) own fault that he
did not know him before. "Just think, Wolfgang, his own
fault! That may lead to something," added the alderman,
delightedly rubbing his hands. "-Stay for my sake!" said
the mother, who had come up and noticed how her. son's
face had darkened during his father's speech. An hour afterwards the president's wife, and Aurelia, Arthur, and Margaret, had left in the general's glass coach, and Wolfgang and
Camilla had followed the carriage with their eyes, till it had
driven out of the great portal of the court-yard. Madame,
who had been in particularly good humor, helping the ladies
into the carriage, had gone in, and the two young people,
still standing in the door, looked at each other. Wolfgang
burst out laughing.
"If I did not happen to know that all this was real, I
should certainly think I was only reading it in a novel."
Camilla let her silken lashes veil her eyes. "Do I look
to you like a princess in a novel? "
" Not exactly; but all around me here is so entirely different from what I am accustomed to, that I feel as if I were in
another world. How long do you propose remaining here?"
"I do not know what granduncle and mamma have settled between them. And you?"
" Nor do I know. I hope, however, not very long; for I
am cruelly puzzled to know what I shall do during the days
I shall have to sacrifice to granduncle's extraordinary whims."
"Most gallant Cousin Wolfgang," said. Camilla, with a
roguish glance from her soft brown eyes.
" How so? " asked the young man with unfeigned wonder.
" I must go in to see madame about my room. Excuse
me."
Camilla nodded haughtily-an art in which the young
lady excelled-and went into the house.




30             The House of Hohenstein.
Wolfgang looked after her a few moments. He felt inStinctively that he had offended the young lady, but he was
too busy with his own thoughts to take the matter to heart.
He lounged about in the park-what else could he do?and sauntered at random through the neglected walks. The
situation in which he found himself had come upon him so
suddenly, and so entirely without any effort of his own, and,
in fact, so much against his will and inclination, that he
could not overcome the idea of being in a dream. Was this
really the house of that granduncle of whom his mother had
spoken so often; the house which he had looked upon as an
enchanted castle, and in which as a child he had located the
stories of Bluebeard and the boy who went out to learn how
to be afraid. And did it not really look very much as his
fancy had depicted it? This very morning he had thought of
it, when madame had shown the whole company over the
house, opening to his amazed eyes the whole suite of apartments with their faded splendor of damask coverings and
idyllic scenes on wall and ceiling. And, to complete it all,
the armory, which granduncle had commenced years ago, a
whole hall filled with arms of later and earlier years: Roman swords, dug out at Rheinfeld when the foundation was
laid for the present chateau; halberts, morning stars, battleaxes, maces, two-handed swords, Turkish sabres, daggers
long and short, and other murderous weapons; among them
a complete and most valuable collection of every kind of
gun, rifle, carbine, and pistol that had been used by the different nationalities engaged in the great wars of Napoleon.
And now, above all, the park which in its devastation looked
even older and stranger than Castle Rheinfeld itself, because
the contrast between the neglected effortsof art here contrasted more strongly with the ever young and irrepressible
vigor of nature. For more than ten years no human hand
seemed to have been at work here. Ulysses might have
hid himself and. his companions in the dry leaves which so
many autumnal storms had swept together under the broadbranched chestnut-trees. A magnificent greenhouse near
the chateau was a deserted ruin, filled with potsherds, rotting plants and exuberant weeds, in which the first newlyfledged broods of countless sparrows were quarrelling undisturbed. A small temple, overshadowed by tall trees, had




The House of Hohenstein.           3 
not fared much better; the inscription, which stated that
the builder had consecrated it " to Friendship," was hardly
legible. The cupola had fallen down, and in its fall destroyed several statues that once stood on pedestals. All
around and amid the debris which now covered the floor,
nearly a foot high, foxes and martens seemed to have held
their bloody banquets, if one might judge from the scattered
feathers and carefully gnawed bones. Everywhere in the
walks of the park, weeds were luxuriating between the rotting
trunks and the thick undergrowth; here and there, from amid
briers and brambles, weather-beaten statues of sandstone
peeped forth, rarely if ever boasting of heads and arms.
The further Wolfgang entered into this wilderness, the
stranger he felt. It certainly looked like a dream. In this
deserted place, everything that the hand of man had created
was abandoned to decay and destruction; and even the bright,
warm afternoon sun had something spectral about it; and the
twittering and singing of the birds, as they were building their
nests, sounded like faint, dying voices from a far-off youthful
age.
He sat down on a bench placed within a niche, which was
almost hid under a thick veil of ivy. The open space before
him, which seemed to have been a flower parterre, was surrounded on all sides by hedges of evergreens. The whole
world seemed to be forgotten here; and as he sat resting his
head in his hands, he fell into a state which was neither waking nor sleeping, and during which the images of his fancy
had a dreamy reality, while yet the thread of his thoughts
was left unbroken.
He saw himself a small, sickly boy wandering with his
school-books under his arm through the narrow, winding
streets of the venerable old city on the Rhine. The morning sun was shining warm and sweet on the gables of the
houses; and all the confused noises of a populous city, from
the ringing of the bells in the towers of lofty cathedrals to
the yelling voice of hucksters who praised their ware, and
the gay crowds busily hastening to and fro, the huge wagons,
the countless foot passengers, soldiers marching by with
bright guns shining in the sun, and drums and fifes sounding
loud, long processions with fluttering banners and monotonous chants-how all this passed before his mind's eye, as it




32             The Hcuse of Hohenstein.
had once imprinted itself in clearest detail on the open senses
of the child! And now he is sitting in the long, narrow
school-room, among a host of little boys, all of them scribbling busily in their copy-books; and he is looking at the
vaulted ceiling, where the reflex of the sun dancing on the
teacher's glass of water is forming golden rings and rays,
till suddenly a rough hand shakes him and a rough voice
says: "Is that an A, and that a B, you bad boy?"-and
amid all the great joys and the small sorrows of his earliest
years there appears ever and anon a beautiful, dear, pale
face; and as he grows older and more and more intelligent
he sees it more frequently, it looks ever fairer and dearer
to him. He sees it bending over him as he lies sick in bed;
he sees it look over his shoulder into his copy-book; he sees
it smile sweetly as he boasts of all the heroic deeds he is
going to achieve in after life; he sees it run over with tears
when his wild boyish vehemence has terrified the best and kindest of mothers. But that is a rare case, for he loves his mother,
he worships her. To him she personifies all that is fair and good
upon earth; he feels an irresistible desire to live with her, to tell
her everything that agitates his full young heart; for he has
never had either brother or sister, with whom he might share
her love. His mother is his only confidante, and then, very
soon, comes the time when he is her confidante also. She is
often sick; and while his friends walk past the house where
pretty girls are at the window, or defy the school regulations
by drinking stealthily a bottle of sour wine at a low inn, he
remains for hours and hours by her bedside, holding her
small white hand in his own, or cooling her burning temples,
and feeling happy when her long, slow breathing seems to
prove the magnetic influence which the mother ascribes to
his touch. When she is free from pain she often speaks of
her relations in life. She pities his poor father, who, in
marrying her, the poor humbly-born girl, has forfeited all
the brilliant prospects to which he was entitled by his rank
as an officer, his noble descent, his influential relatives, even
his manly beauty and his varied talents. His marriage had
interrupted his career and set him at variance with his family, especially with the old general at Rheinfeld, who need
only say a word to release him from all the embarrassments
into which he has drifted through his very natural and par



The House of Hohenstein.          33
donable ignorance of business. These difficulties, into
which the clever boy is thus early initiated through his
mother's communications and through many painful domestic
scenes, which he cannot help witnessing, are like a dark
cloud throwing its shadow upon the sunny landscape of his
youth. Thus, at an age when most other boys do not yet
look beyond the horizon of the house and the school, he
learns to think of the serious conflicts of life. The neighbors' children laugh at him on account of his careful
language and his better manners; they tease him about his
noble descent, while the sons of noblemen at the same school
sneer at his father's business on change. He hears people
speak with respect of his father's great relations, whom he
hardly knows by sight, and who completely ignore his father,
his mother, and himself, while the plebeian connections of
his mother are rarely mentioned, and yet they have shown
him nothing but the greatest kindness, and he knows they
have often and often given his father good advice, or yet
more valuable assistance. This makes the boy uncertain as
to the world's judgment; but these doubts, in their turn,
strengthen his character and confirm him in his resolve to
do himself what is right and to contribute all he can towards
the rule of right and justice upon earth.
He was sustained in this tendency by his former teacher,
whose liberal views had brought him in conflict with the
authorities, and finally compelled him to resign his position;
he had now been for some years known as a " sharp" writer
in newspapers and reviews. Poor Munzer! Fate had not
given him his name in vain! For like his unfortunate ancestor, the leader of rebellious peasants in the bloody Peasant's Wars, he too had had to work his way through theological
scholastics to religious freedom. And it is yeoman's blood
that flows in his veins, and yeoman's strength that gives him
the power to resist, year after year, the effects of want, incessant work, and a desperate struggle for his mere existence.
"What would you say, noblest, best of friends, if you saw me,
your pupil and faithful follower, sitting here in this magnificent park, created by aristocratic love of display, and suffered
to go to decay by aristocratic caprice?-if you found me here
dreaming at a time when the world is out of joint and man's
work everywhere in demand?"
2*




34             The House of Hohenstein.
Wolfgang recollected just then that at this very hour a
large meeting of students was taking place in the great hall
of the university, in order to make arrangements for the
formation of an armed corps of students. He had not been
enthusiastic about a plan which seemed to him to contain
too many elements of childish vanity and idle braggadocio.
He wondered what Munzer would think of it, and what
Munzer would say on the occasion. In his dreams he saw
the mighty man ascend the tribune; he heard his deep soft
voice, first indistinctly, then more and more clearly, and at
last every word, as it fell from the eloquent lips upon the
breathless multitude: "Ah, do not believe what your adversaries say! It is not an empty play that you are going to
engage in, nor an idle honor which you covet. Let wiser
men determine what is right and consider what is expedient,
but in order to give strength to their resolutions and to procure a hearing for the voice of the senate on the noisy forum,
youthful, prompt vigor must be at hand, men who are daring
enough to act-even to strike a blow, if blows are necessary
to make an impression. Or do you think the golden seed of
liberty is like that seed which fell on good soil and brought
fruit a hundred-fold and a thousand-fold? Do you think
these old fogies can understand what liberty is all at once?
-that priests and priest-ridden people will suddenly be delighted with a common brotherhood after having for ages
persecuted and excommunicated all who differed from their
creed? No, and again and again, no! I tell you, might is
still right, and therefore right still needs to become stronger
than might. That is the deep meaning of this playing with
arms, which your adversaries call childish. Human rights
in one hand and the sword in the other hand-thus only can
liberty make her way through the nations of the earth..."
" And yet it is written:'He who taketh the sword shall
perish by the sword,"' said a soft voice close to Wolfgang's ear.
"Who is that??" cried the young man, startled, and rising
from the bench.
"It is I! " said the soft voice, and a man, who had approached unnoticed through the park, stepped forth from
behind the ivy-covered wall, pulled his cap off, and bowed
several times in a strange, awkward manner.
Wolfgang examined the odd-looking man with great




The House of Hohenstein.          35
astonishment. His first impression was, that he had before
him one of those unfortunate men whose mind is imprisoned in the' night of insanity; but a second glance at the
pale, peaceful face, with its cleair blue eyes, full of childlike
piety, taught him better, and kindly returning the humble
greeting, he said:
"Who are you?"
" My name is Hans," said the man promptly, " Balthasar
Hans. I see I have interrupted you in a monologue, and I
pray you to forgive me, but I could not help it when I heard
you say what, in my humble opinion-but I crave your pardon."
And Balthasar, whom the young man's inquiring look had
embarrassed more and more, so that he rubbed the earthenware pitcher he was carrying in his hand harder and harder
against his coat, bowed and was about to escape, but Wolfgang held him.
"You are probably going up to the house; we can go together! "
"Oh, no, no! I pray you! I had entirely forgotten that I
have strict orders not to show myself to any of the ladies and
gentlemen. My way is not to the great house. Quite the
contrary."
Wolfgang's curiosity -was greatly excited by the man's
strange conduct and confused words. Who was this outcast,
who must not be seen by the guests of the house?
" Strict orders! From whom?" he asked, walking by the
side of Balthasar.
" From her," he replied, casting shy glances in the direction in which the chateau was lying.
"From her! Who is she? That dragon of a housekeeper,
eh? "
" Yes, from my wife," said Balthasar, hastening his steps.
" She is your wife! " cried Wolfgang, involuntarily breaking out into loud laughter. "Ah! now I understand your
aversion to the house perfectly."
"Do you really," replied Balthasar. "You understand
me? I am a man of peace. I have no other wish than to
live in peace and harmony with everybody. Why should I
encounter her wrath? I would rather go to bed hungry
once more."....




36            The House of Hohenstein.
A fluttering and chirping in the hedge along which they
were walking, attracted Balthasar's attention. He carefully
bent the branches aside and looked in.
"Oh, just look!" he said in a whisper, with a face beaming with delight; "just look!"
Three or four little birds, still unfledged, were lying in a
tiny nest and opening wide their yellow beaks.
" Poor little things! Are you hungry?" said Balthasar,
carefully replacing the branches. Then he began to search
his pockets, till amid bits of twine, dried plants, and other
stuff, he discovered a crust of bread, which he crumbled up
and strewed on the ground near the hedge. "That'll be
good for them. Now let us get away so as not to frighten
the old ones. There they are, looking at us half curious
and half frightened with their stupid, bright eyes."
Balthasar picked up the empty pitcher, which he had put
down during the little scene.
"You seem to be a warm admirer of nature," said Wolfgang, as they went on.
"Who can help being so, having ears to hear and eyes to
see-yes, and a nose to smell," exclaimed Balthasar, and as
he spoke a slight flush tinged his pale cheeks. " I often sit
under the trees and among the bushes, and when I have
drunk in the glorious sight with all my senses, I often do not
know if I am not the little white cloud sailing along on the
blue sky, or the tiny bird in the branches singing his jubilant song, or the fresh green foliage which exhales a fragrant perfume all around me."
"You are a poet, sir," said Wolfgang, not a little amazed
to hear such thoughts and such well-chosen language from
an insignificant, wretched-looking being.
"Alas, no," replied Balthasar, timidly, "don't say that!
I thought so once or twice in my life, but only in moments
of foolish vanity, of which I was always heartily ashamed
afterwards. How could I, ignorant man that I am, compare
myself with the wisest and best of men! I never had many
chances in my life to learn much; for what we are taught at
the seminary, heaven knows, is little enough; and what little
there is, turns out idle stuff quite often."
Balthasar broke off, frightened, and lpoked imploringly
at his companion.  "What I said just escaped without




The House of Hohenstein.          37
my intending it," he said. "You won't be offended with
me?"
"Oh, not at all! " replied Wolfgang, smiling. "On the
contrary, I think you are but too right. You are, then, the
Aristotle of the village youth?"
"Aristotle of the village youth?" said Balthasar; "that
sounds pretty! Oh, I know very well who Aristotle was! a
heathen philosopher, who taught the Macedonian King
Alexander. His name occurs quite frequently in Lessing.
Do you like Lessing?"
" Certainly, he is one of the greatest writers of our nation,
and I have a great reverence for him."
" Have you indeed! " cried Balthasar, delighted. "That
is a man! How he writes! so clear, one can see to the
bottom; and so deep, it is sometimes beyond measure! Do
you know his Nathan? Well, there are some words in it
which I always repeat to myself when I feel my heart
harden, and my milk of human kindness dry up:'Well!
Let every one follow his unbiassed love,
Free from all prejudice!'
"I have meditated these twenty years on these words, and
I have found that they state all a man can do and ought to
do in his intercourse with other men, and even with other
beings. If men would only understand and practise that
lesson, we should need no police in the cities or in the
country, no jails and no poor-houses; yes, my dear sir, then
liberty would reign without holding a sword in one hand,
while bestowing her benefits upon men with the other hand."
" But do you know, Mr. Hans, what Saladin says in answer
to the philosopher's remark, with the practical shrewdness
and the clear view of mankind which he has obtained on
his lofty throne?'The thousand years of your judge are not
yet over.' Well, I also say, they are not passed yet even
now!"
"Do you really think so?" inquired Balthasar, and his
eyes rested anxious and searching on his companion's face.
" Might we not begin to hope, now that they have proclaimed
liberty, equality, and fraternity in France with the republic?
-now that spring has come to us also, not only in woods, and




38             The House of Hohenstein.
fields, and meadows, but even in the hearts of men?-now
that fires are joyfully kindled on every height, and not a
vessel drops down the Rhine that is not dressed in gay flags?
Might we not hope now? "
"I fear not," said Wolfgang. "I cannot imagine, for
instance, that the old general up at the great house is very
warm for liberty and equality."
"Ah no! " said Balthasar, with a piteous face. "He is a
terrible man."
They had reached the end of the avenue, and were standing before the park wall, which was half decayed and covered with all kinds of creepers, where an iron gate hanging
on a single hinge opened upon the fields.
Balthasar took off his cap, and said, in a low, imploring
voice: "Pray do not tell anybody that you have met me
here in the park. She was going to send me my meal down
to the village, but I presume she has forgotten all about it.
Well, it does not matter; old Ursula will give me something
to eat. Don't tell anybody, please. And now, good-by to
you, sir! good-by, and God bless you! "
The odd man squeezed through the narrow little gate,
looked round for a moment, repeating his " God bless you,
sir! " and was gone.
" Well, this is a strange acquaintance that I have made,"
said Wolfgang to himself as he went back to the chateau.
" Really, there seems to be some need of God's blessing in
this enchanted castle."
CHAPTER VI.
W    OLFGANG found the general, who had sent for him
half an hour before, seated in an arm-chair in the garden-room down stairs, reading his newspaper. He
wanted the young man to tell him all about a professor in
his university who had recently delivered a liberal speech at
a popular meeting, which was only imperfectly reported in
the papers. Wolfgang had been present at the meeting,




The House of Hohenstein.          39
and after having completed the professor's speech as far as
he recollected it, to please the old gentleman, he became
almost unconsciously involved in a political discussion, which
naturally soon assumed a very unpleasant turn for the young
man. The old gentleman became quite angry and said, in
his rude manner, sneeringly:
" You are a young man, and think it a great affair to erect a
barricade here and there to smash a few windows and to
drink and yell till you are hoarse. Pshaw! Even a lame
horse kicks, if they put too heavy a load in the cart and
whip him too unmercifully; but for all that he remains a
lame horse and pulls his load patiently when he sees that
his kicking is of no use. So it is with the people. There
must be lame horses who plague themselves to death for us,
and poor rabble who work for us till they die. It has been
so since the world was made, and will be so till the end of
the world. As long as there are people who like to drink
champagne and to eat p4tes de foie gras, there will be no
want of the poor, squinting, flatheaded men who feed on potatoes and drink mean whiskey. What can you do? Religion?
Well, every age has had its good-natured creatures who are
willing to burn their fingers in order to pull the chestnuts
out of the fire for others; but your saints become sinners,
and your hermits fat, jolly monks, and at last-the earth is
round and has to turn and turn. Revolutions? Mon cher,
I was just as green as you are, in spite of your handsome
black moustache, when I was an ensign in the hussars in
seventeen hundred and eighty-nine. I was a wild fellow, and
as my captain was a strict disciplinarian, I thought great
things of liberte, and especially of the goddess of reason in
her scanty costume; drank a good many bowls of punch
with my comrades at that time, and sang: Allons enfants!
and kissed the pretty girls at the same time. But when they
made me a captain, and I was heartily tired of pretty girls,
I worried my ensigns exactly as I had been worried myself.
Egalite / Fraternit I Don't let them cheat you! He who
has the'power, has the right; and if he gives up his
power before he is forced to do so, he is an ass, that is all!
Why on earth don't the monarchs do on a large scale
as we did in miniature when we were on the march in seventeen hundred and ninety-two? I had a couple of impudent




40             The House of Hohenstein.
fellows in my company, who wanted to teach the others something new.'You'll learn manners, you blackguards,' I
thought. Not long afterwards, the whole company turns to
the right, at drill, when I. command to the left; and to the
left, when I command to the right!'Halt! why don't you do
as I say?''Because we won't!' cries the whole company.'Ah!' say I,'because you won't!' and call the leader to the
front. He comes up, standing right before me.' Why don't
you do as I say?''Because I won't!' says the fellow, and
laughs at me.' Get off your horse!' I cry. The man don't
stir.'Get off!' I order him once more. The man grins
and don't move.'Well, then, go to the devil!' I cry, draw
my pistol, which I had kept loaded in the holsters, and
shoot the dog down on the spot. After that not a man went
to the right again, when I ordered'to the left!' Why
didn't the fellows cut me down with the swords they held in
their hands? No one prevented them; we were quite alone
on the field, half an hour from the fortress; not a man to
stand by me. Why didn't they do it? Because they were
cowards; they had no pluck. And I tell you, my man, if they
had had pluck these last days, the monarchs would not now
be sitting on their thrones as I sit here in my arm-chair.
Have you been in the army, boy?"
"I have served my year as volunteer."
"Where?"
"In Bonn."
"Hem! Hem!"
The general was silent, and puffed thick clouds of smoke
from his short meerschaum pipe. Wolfgang looked at the
old weather-beaten face, full of passion as it still was, and
felt horror and wonder at once. He was ashamed that
he had not the courage to contradict the old tyrant there,
and yet his tongue was paralyzed; and when he saw the
piercing black eyes beneath the bristly brows fixed upon his
face, he felt somewhat like what the bird may feel when the
snake is suddenly peering into the nest.
"Why did you not remain in the army?" suddenly began
the old man again. " You are more fit for it than your spindle-shanked, red-headed cousins. The army is the only fit
place for a nobleman."
"I beg to remind you that I am of noble descent only on




The House of Hohenstein.          41
one side of the house," remarked Wolfgang, with a somewhat
forced smile.
"Why? Because your mother was not well born? It is
bad enough, to be sure, that your father should have degraded himself by marrying."
Wolfgang's face became flushed with indignation. "You
seem to forget, general," he said in a firm voice, " that you
are speaking of my mother."
"Eh?" said the general, frowning angrily and looking
fiercely at the young man who dared to speak to him in such
a tone. "Eh?"
But Wolfgang was not to be intimidated when the honor
of his mother was at stake.
" I only wish to say," he continued, "that no man could
be degraded by marrying my mother, and that I am proud
of my mother-yes, general, very proud; and that I shall not
remain a moment longer in a house where my mother can
be thus spoken of, without my being able to prevent it."
Wolfgang had risen while saying these words, and stood
now, trembling with excitement, but firm in look and carriage, before the general. He was prepared for an explosion
of wrath, and therefore not a little astonished when the old
gentleman broke out into a hoarse laugh, and said, laughing
and coughing:
" Good blood, my boy! glad to see it! very glad! must
not weigh every word the old man says. Your mother is a
lady whom I like very much. You are right, you are perfectly right - and now go and call Bridget.  Ah! this
wretched cough! "
Wolfgang wanted to assist the old gentleman, but the
latter motioned him away, and he went, glad to have escaped
so well.
" The schoolmaster was right," he said to himself, when
he had reached his room; " he is a terrible man, a real devil
of a white-haired, lowering, raging old lion. But with all
that, I do not think he is quite as bad as papa and the others
represent him to be. I wonder if the old Isengrim could be
tamed, and if it would be worth while? "
Wolfgang was standing at the open window, his arms
crossed, and looking upon the neglected park, over which
night was beginning to spread its dark shadows. He fell




42             The gHouse of Hohenstein.
into a flood of restless, ever-changing thoughts, until a servant came and announced that supper was ready.
The president's wife had returned, bringing out a small trunk
for Wolfgang, which his mother had hastily filled with all he
might need for a longer stay at Rheinfeld.
She was very gracious during supper, at which neither the
general nor Bridget were present. She could not find words
enough to tell Wolfgang how much she had been pleased
with his mother, and how glad she was to have at last made
the acquaintance of such a charming lady, whom she only
regretted not to have known before.
Any one who praised his mother was sure to win favor
with Wolfgang. He thought his aunt a very pleasing lady,
and discovered that Camilla, who kept very quiet, and
scarcely raised her silken eyelashes, was even prettier by
candle-light than by day-light, so that he no longer regretted having yielded to the wishes of his parents and his granduncle's caprice. The enormous bed, doubly grand and
stately now, with its heavy silk curtains let down, received
the tired youth as it were with hospitable arms; a few rays
of moonlight peeped stealthily through the window curtains,
and produced a pleasant mellow light in the lofty silent
room; and from the dim light two dreamy brown eyes looked
at him so tenderly and yet so roguishly that Wolfgang
could not help smiling, and he fell asleep with the smile on
his lips.
CHAPTER       VII.
AND with a smile on his lips Wolfgang awoke again
next morning, and a watchful observer would have
noticed that smile quite frequently on his lips during
the day. He hardly knew himself what made him so cheerful; and with that instinct which enables precocious minds
to judge early of the uncertainty of sunny hours, he carefully
abstained from analyzing his feelings.  And then, why
should he not enjoy the loveliness of this glorious spring,
lying so warm and fragrant on fields, and meadows, and




The House of Hohenstein.           43
vineyards? Why should he not make good use of this
opportunity to be happy in unfettered intercourse with_ a
girl whose beauty he daily admired more? He had never
yet in all his simple, sober life, had such happiness allotted
him! He had never had sisters, nor friends with sisters,
like other young men; and the charm of female society,
which many enjoy at so early an age that they soon cease to
appreciate it, began now, in his twentieth year, for the first
time to be revealed to the young man. Was it a wonder,
especially in this rural seclusion, that he fancied he heard
the voices of sirens, when after all it was but the tongue of
his own race that spoke to him. The president's wife was
not fond of long walks, and, spoilt by want of exercise and
the close air in the house, found it always either too cool or
too hot, too windy or too close; thus Wolfgang and Camilla
sauntered about in the park, alone, at all hours of the day.
As the park in its neglected state looked even larger than it
was, they made regular voyages of discovery in all directions; nor was there any want of pleasing adventures, which
made them think often enough of Robinson Crusoe and his
island. Once they fastened a few trunks of trees together
with willow withes, and thus crossed a reedy pond, in order
to reach a little decayed temple, which stood on an island
in the centre; the boat by which the passage had formerly
been made, was now lying deeply imbedded in the mire, and
only the bow rose out of the reeds near the shore. Another
time a thunder-storm overtook them, and they could but just
reach a grotto, which became their delightful prison for an
hour, while the rain came dovn in torrents, dazzling flashes
of lightning illumined the darkness, and the quiet spaces
under the gigantic old trees resounded with rolling thunder.
Again, at the uttermost end of the park, concealed behind
an almost impenetrable thicket, and tall, broad-branching
lime-trees, they discovered a turret, which they ascended,
laughing and jesting, by means of a much-decayed wooden
staircase, in order to enjoy the superb view from the top.
Surrounded on three sides by the green foliage of trees,
which formed a waving bower over the turret, on the fourth
side they could see over the top of the park enclosure, the
stream up and down, and far into the rich plain. The sun
had already disappeared behind the trees, but the reflection




44             The House of Hohenstein.
of the glowing western sky still shone rosy on the majestic
windings of the river; and beyond, on meadows and fields
with their tender green grains, the last rays of the evening
sun were weaving their magic charms.  Then the vesper
bells were heard far and near from all the countless villages,
and gradually the glowing brightness faded away on the
grayish waters, soft blue mists veiled the brilliant landscape,
field by field, and at last nothing was seen but a window of
the lofty cathedral in the "holy city," which shone like a
lighthouse above the sea of mists, till that also vanished, and
evening spread its darker shades over the earth, and the
golden stars came forth, one by one, on the deep-blue sky.
Such views, such scenes, had a magic influence on
Wolfgang's mind, susceptible as it was to every kind of
beauty; and yet, after all, they formed but a frame and a
background for the fair and graceful young girl with whom
accident had brought him into such close and constant contact. It was Wolfgang's greatest happiness to confide where
he could be understood; and the zeal with which Camilla
entered upon his favorite themes, the interest she manifested in
his studies, his plans, and his hopes; the gratitude with which
she accepted his teachings-all this charmed him not less than
the lovely play of her gentle eyes, the bashful blushes that
mantled her cheeks, and the naive lisp with which she acknowledged many a defect in her boarding-school education.
Wolfgang had hoped every day to meet the schoolmaster
once more in the park, but in vain. The worn-out dresscoat and the yellow nankeen trousers were not to be seen
any more. And yet the young man's sympathy for the
strange saint had by no means abated. He had inquired
of the servants about the schoolmaster, whom he said he
had met by chance during one of his walks; but carefully as
his inquiries were made, the servants answered evasively,
till at last one of them, who was more communicative than his
comrades, condescended to give him the following account:
" Mr. Balthasar Hans-or Little Hans, as old and young
called him-was altogether and hopelessly insane, and good
for nothing in this world but to teach the boys of the village
their A B C and their prayers, which did not require much
sense. He never had a farthing, much less a larger coin, in
his pocket, because he either gave away his money or spent




The House of Hohenstein.          45
it on useless books, of which he was desperately fond.
Madame was really his wife, but she was separated from him,
and had lived now for twenty years at the great house, because his excellency could not well do without her, and she
preferred, very naturally, not to keep house for a crazy man,
who would have starved to death long since, if his modest
meals were not sent him every day from the kitchen at the
great house. Otherwise Little Hans was a very innocent
creature, who did no one any harm, and who talked to any
one who gave him a chance, in such a very funny way that
one could not help laughing heartily. In the kitchen they
always had their fun with him."
One evening, when Camilla had to stay with her mother,
who had an attack of neuralgia, it occurred to Wolfgang
that he could not spend the time better than by paying a
visit to the schoolmaster. He went, therefore, for the first
time in a week, alone on his way through the fields and the
vineyards. He was in the best of humors. Yesterday's
mail had brought him a letter from his mother, who wrote
to him that she was uncommonly well, and that she owed
this largely to the excellent spirits in which his father had
returned from Rheinfeld. Papa sent word to Wolfgang to
be as considerate as possible towards his old granduncle,
and to do all he could to confirm the good understanding
which had so suddenly been brought about between the two
families, by his cautious but amicable conduct towards
Camilla and her mother.
"That will not be difficult," the young man said to himself, smiling, and paused to look back at the chateau.
Through the dense foliage only a part of the building could
be seen-a portion of the frieze with its ornaments, and a few
windows, which Wolfgang's excellent eyes recognized at once
as belonging to the room in which Camilla was with her
mother.
"Good-by, dear Wolfgang! " the young man repeated several times, and always in a different tone of voice.
"I can't hit it," he whispered, shaking his head. "She
has too sweet and soft a voice! "
He continued on his way, surrounded by lovely creations
of his fancy, and soon reached the little village.
Rheinfeld was a sad heap of one-storied, tumble-down




46             The House of Hohenstein.
houses, miserable barns, and still more wretched stables, and
little gardens in which nothing seemed to thrive but weeds;
the whole surrounded by a wall in ruins, which had been
built in very ancient times, if we might judge from the
appearance of the stones and the shape of a round old
tower, which was ruinous and half demolished. A low,
weatherbeaten house, one gable end of which was tacked on
to the tower, was pointed out to Wolfgang, by a ragged,
black-eyed boy, as the dwelling of the schoolmaster.
He went in, stooping low, and looked through the open
door on the right into the spacious school-room. Here he
found Mr. Hans. The good man had pulled off his black
dress-coat and was wiping the benches and tables with a
white towel so industriously that he did not see his visitor
till the latter stood right before him.
"Ah! see there! the young gentleman!" exclaimed Balthasar, raising his soft blue eyes in surprise.
" I hope I do not interrupt, Mr. Hans? " asked Wolfgang.
" Oh, not in the least, not in the least," replied the schoolmaster. "I have just done, just done!" and with these
words he glanced all around, as if he wished to see that he
had really done.
" You seem to be bent upon having everything tidy, Mr.
Hans." ^
" Ought I not to be so? " replied Balthasar. "Is it not
bad enough that the poor little creatures must be shut up
here within the narrow walls when they feel the beautiful
spring air outside in all their limbs? That is why I try to
save them at least the suffering from dust and dirt."
Balthasar took his broom and his other things and invited
Wolfgang by a gesture of his hand to follow him across the
passage into the opposite room.
This was a small low room with two windows; a common
table, a couple of unsafe settles, a low narrow bed half-concealed by a little curtain of flowered chintz, and a wormeaten cupboard, containing copy-books, a violin, and a few
well-thumbed books, made up the whole furniture; On the
white-washed walls hung a few poor wood-cuts and a crucifix
carved in dark wood, the fine antique workmanship of which
at once attracted Wolfgang's attention.
"Ah, you see that? " said Balthasar, who had in the mean



The House of hohenstfin.           47
time put on his long-tailed dress-coat. "That is a fine piece.
of workmanship. The general once threw that at my head!"
"What! " exclaimed Wolfgang, quite astonished.
" You must not take it amiss, my dear sir," replied Balthasar with a smile of embarrassment. "I have heard you
are his excellency's grandnephew, and therefore I ought not to
have told you; but since it has slipped out in this way, I hope
you will pardon me."
" Oh, no harm done! " said Wolfgang, kindly. "I know
the general is rather a passionate old gentleman, but how
did it happen that he forgot himself so far? "
" Ah, that was a long time ago," said Balthasar. "I used
to go frequently to the great house then, and to play chess
with his excellency, who suffered with the gout, in order to
see her- "
Here Balthasar blushed and coughed to hide his embarrassment.
" I mean, to see my wife, who was nursing the general in his
sickness. You must know, sir, that my wife was his excellency's housekeeper before we were married, and thus it was
quite natural that his excellency wanted her to nurse him,
as she understood it better than anybody else."
" Of course, of course! " said Wolfgang, anxious to help
Balthasar in disposing of a subject which seemed painful to
the poor man.
" Don't you think so?" said the latter, relieved. "So I
was frequently at the great house and really felt very sorry for
the old gentleman, who suffered terrible pain. He employed
me from time to time to right up the armory; and there,
amid old rubbish, I had found this beautiful image of our
Saviour. I thought I would hang it up in his excellency's
room, so that he might take an example of patient endurance
from Him who suffered more than any man upon earth.
But his excellency would not have it so; on the contrary, he
became very angry when he found it in his room, threw it
at my head and cried:'Go to the devil with your stuff!'
I did not wait for more, rose-for I had been struck down,
although I was not hurt much, God be thanked!-took the
poor, ill-used crucifix and carried it home, as his excellency
had, after a fashion, given it to me."
"It is really a very fine work of art," said Wolfgang;




48            The House of Hohenstein.
full of character and yet not a caricature. I must admire
it, although I am generally not very fond of such representations."
"Why not, my dear sir?" asked the schoolmaster.
"Because I cannot help thinking of the horrors that have
been enacted under this symbol, and of the idol worship to
which it has led-but we shall hardly agree on this point.
You must know, Mr. Hans, I am not a Catholic."
" Oh," said Balthasar, eagerly; " that makes no difference,
in my opinion. I do not judge men according to their religion.
But I cannot help thinking the image of the crucified must
be dear to every one, in spite of the abuse it has received
among men. To be sure it would be better — "
Balthasar paused and looked full in his visitor's face.
"What would be better, Mr. Hans?'
" I ought not to say so, for it is arrant heresy, and I know
people who would stone me if they heard me say so. But
you have such dear, good, bright eyes, I think I can trust
you. 
" That you may, most assuredly! " said Wolfgang, offering
his hand to the schoolmaster; who pressed it heartily. "What
were you going to say?"
Balthasar let go Wolfgang's hand, closed the windows, the
house door, and the school-room windows, came back and
said with a certain solemnity:
" I am going to tell you something, my dear sir, that I
have told no one yet; and to show you how great my confidence in you is, I will show you a place which nobody knows
but I. Will you please follow me?"
" Certainly," said Wolfgang, not a little surprised at the
schoolmaster's extraordinary manner.
The latter opened a small side door and beckoned to
Wolfgang to follow him.
They entered a dimly-lighted room, paved with brick, and
apparently intended for a kitchen, as there was an abandoned hearth in it. A work-bench, a few carpenter's tools,
planks and piles of saw-dust and shavings were all that were
to be seen. From this room a rotten staircase led through
a trap door in the ceiling into the garret, which had no other
light than what entered here and there through the crevices
in the roof.




The House of Ioheznsein.          49
"Give me your hand," said Balthasar.'" There is a good
deal of lumber lying about, which has accumulated here
under my predecessors, and to which I have added on purpose. Well! Now wait a moment, till I have struck a
light."
Balthasar lighted a lantern, which he had found somewhere in a corner, and held it against the wail before which
they were standing.
"Can you see any door here?" he asked, letting the light
of the lantern fall all over the wall.
" No," replied Wolfgang.
"And yet there is a door!" said Balthasar, with a wellpleased laugh and blowing out the light. "It cost me work
enough before I succeeded with the mechanism.  Now
look!"
He pressed against the wall; a low door moved noiselessly aside; a dark, narrow passage became visible, and
beyond a lighter room.
"Go on," said Balthasar, "you need not fear, only bend
down a little, or you might hurt your head. I must lock the
door again behind you.
Wolfgang entered the passage, which was about ten feet
long, and so narrow that he almost touched the rough stone
sides with his shoulders, and thus came to a round and rather
lofty apartment, which was tolerably well lighted by small
openings in the immensely thick walls. Under one of these
openings stood a large table, and before the table an old
wooden arm-chair. The table was covered with books, minerals, dried plants, phials, and glasses; along the walls were
cupboards filled with all kinds of curious things, and even
the floor was littered with strange odds and ends.
Wolfgang looked around the room with surprise. It reminded him of old legends of magicians and sorcerers;
thus must have looked the musty den which Faust wished
to exchange for the moonlit mountains without.
"Here we are safe," said Balthasar, urging his guest to
take the arm-chair, and seating himself on a couple of huge
folios. "The people think the tower is inaccessible, and
there is really no entrance except the little door in the garret of my house, which I myself broke through the thick
wall and carefully hid again, as you saw."
3




50             The House of fHohenstein.
" But what made you think of it?"
" First, idle curiosity: I wanted to see what was in the
decayed old tower, which the people call the Witches' Tower,
and look upon with superstitious awe; and then, when I was
once in it, the wish to find a place of refuge, where I could
be safe from intrusion when I wished to be alone. Then I
also brought the books here which I had bought with my
hard-earned money at auction and at book-stalls, together
with my minerals and my plants, without fear of being anathematized by the priest, and perhaps murdered by the superstitious peasants. For you know, my dear sir, we read
in plants and stones much that a poor schoolmaster is not
expected to know?"
" And so you escape from fools and priests to this asylum!
Well, well, I can understand now why you, like the convent
brother in Lessing's Nathan, must wish for a little place of
your own, where you can serve the Almighty in solitude till
your blessed end."
Balthasar looked up at Wolfgang as he said these words,
and examined him in silence for a few moments. Then he
said-and his gentle voice sounded even gentler and more
childlike than before:
" You see, my dear sir, that is exactly what I wanted to
say to you, and what I have long desired to tell some one,
to whom I could feel perfect confidence. I cannot believe
in God and a so-called blessed end, as these people around
me believe."
" That is pretty bad, I am sure, especially in your position
here," replied Wolfgang. " But, setting that aside, you do
not stand alone in your convictions.  I myself, for instance, am strongly inclined to take your view of the matter;
and my best friend, a man of great ability and thoroughly
well educated, is as positively opposed to all dogmas as you
are. "
"Ah, indeed!" said Balthasar. " I always thought there
must be other people, besides myself, who held these views;
but as I had never been able to speak to anybody about it,
and as I found it clearly stated in no book, I became doubtful again. But you say, really-   "
The schoolmaster had risen from his folios, and was walking up and down the room with hurried steps. Suddenly he




The House of HoJensteinz.         51
paused before Wolfgang, and asked him, with an emotion
which was evidently very unusual in him:
" But if that is really so, if there are learned and gifted
men who do not believe in the dogmas of the church, why
do they not speak out boldly and frankly? Why do they
remain hypocrites, and compel others, who are not learned
and gifted, and whose voice nobody listens to on that
account, to become hypocrites likewise?"
Wolfgang shrugged his shoulders.
" I have often asked myself that question," he said, "and
found only this answer: Some are silent from indifference,
others from want of courage; some, because they do not
think the time has come yet for a reign of pure reason; and
still others, because they think that time will never come,
and that men, like children, must always be kept in leading
strings, and that it is, therefore, not right to disturb them in
the simple faith that makes them happy."
The schoolmaster had resumed his seat on the folios, and
rubbed his forehead in deep thought.
" That is plausible," he said; " nevertheless it is always a
painful thing not to be able to speak as one feels. It has
given me many a sad hour; it has driven me nearly to
insanity. And then, would it not be better for us all, even
for children, if they were taught nothing but the one simple
truth, that we poor weak mortals must look to each other
alone for help, and that such assistance can only come to us
through love? Would not the poor and the unhappy be much
better off; nay, would there be any poor and unhappy people if it were preached openly and boldly, in the streets
and in public places, that not to love your neighbor is a sin,
a sin against humanity-humanity which is outraged and
disgraced in every hungry one whom we do not feed, in
every thirsty one whom we do not give to drink, and every
naked one whom we do not clothe. And do not tell me
that this is out of your power!-do not say such self-denial,
such love, is beyond the power of man! Do you not know
that the Son of Man has so loved his brethren as to die
on the cross for them? Bear in mind that he was a man
like yourself when he did so and suffered so, and that you
can do and suffer like him, if you have but the will! "
Balthasar had risen in the excitement of his speech. A




52             The House of Hohenstein.
red ray of the evening sun entered the sombre room and fell
upon his pale face. Wolfgang looked at him with wonder
and reverence. This man, whose eyes shone with a sacred
fire, whose voice sounded full, like the ringing of bells from
the high vaulted ceiling, was no longer the poor, humble
schoolmaster, embarrassed and awkward as he was among
men-he looked a saint, a priest of a religion which knows
no other priests than such as are filled with the holy spirit
of active humanity...
But Wolfgang, young as he was, had already been too
much in the world to see in this man's harmless readiness
to sacrifice himself anything but a rare exception to the general rule, and in the world of which he was dreaming, more
than a Utopia, which as yet could be found nowhere except in the hearts of a few noble enthusiasts. But he did
not wish to afflict the good man by his doubts, and only said:
"Men will reach that promised land; not we, nor the
next generation, nor who knows how many generations to
come, who must all perish first in the desert! But it will be
reached. Let us believe in that, and comfort ourselves with
that hope amid the heat and the dust of the road-that is
all we can do."
Balthasar had resumed his seat, leaning his head on his
hand. The momentary excitement had given way to weariness. He was silent, and Wolfgang said nothing.
Thus they sat opposite each other, each absorbed in his
own thoughts, while the red ray, peeping in through a crevice
in the wall, rose higher and higher, and at last disappeared,
leaving the room in complete darkness.
"That is all we can do," said Balthasar at last. He
pushed his hair from his brow and eyes, like one who awakes
from a deep sleep, and looked at Wolfgang.
"It is quite dark now," he said with his usual low voice;
"the sun has disappeared behind the chateau; they will
miss you if you stay much longer."
They went back the same way they had come. At the
door Balthasar said: "If you like, I will show you a much
shorter way to the park gate, through which I go in and
out."
They went from the schoolmaster's house almost directly
through a breach in the old wall of the village, and found a




The House of Hohenstein.          53
small path which followed a canal, lined with old chestnuttrees, until they came to the little gate in the park enclosure.
Here Balthasar was about to leave Wolfgang. The latter
asked him if he would be in the park again the next day.
Hans said No! He had to attend a teachers' meeting at
some distance. The schoolmasters were there to be told
whom to vote for at the approaching elections for the assembly in Berlin and in Frankfurth.
"Well then, perhaps day after to-morrow," said Wolfgang.
"I do not know how long I shall stay here; at all events I
should not like to leave without having seen you once more.
And one other thing: If I should not see you again, you
must not forget that I am your friend, and shall be delighted
to do anything for you that is in my power. Do not forget
that!"
He offered his hand to Balthasar, who took it and held it
for some time.
" I shall not forget you," he said. "What only happens to
us once in our lives, we are not apt to forget soon; and you
are the only man to whom I have ever spoken freely about
what is nearest to my heart. But please do not you forget
me! It may sound foolish and presumptuous, but I must
tell you that, as we were walking along the canal, it came
into my head that one of these days you would come that
same way to seek refuge with me. But I often have such
curious ideas, that seem to be most improbable, so that quite
frequently I think of myself what people say: I am not quite
right up here! "
He touched his forehead and smiled sadly at Wolfgang.
"You are too much alone, Mr. Hans," said.Wolfgang.
"Solitude is an inspiring but also an intoxicating beverage.
Why has Fate not given you a companion for life, as gentle
and as good as you are?"
" My dear sir," said Balthasar, "I have always found
that Fate is nothing but our own self with its foibles and its
virtues. I have to suffer long for a short folly. I hope, with
all my heart, your cleverness may preserve you from a like
fate. But I need not say so. You are good and clever, and
I am half a fool and half a coward-a bird with one broken
wing, so that the other only serves to make him turn round
and round in a circle. Good-by! Good-by!"




54             The House of Hohenstein.
The gentle eyes of the poor man filled with tears; he
pressed Wolfgang's hand to his heart, turned round, pulled
his cap with the broken visor far down over his face, and
hurried back to the village along the canal with the chestnut-trees, never looking round again.
CHAPTER VIII.
WJ,OLFGANG followed him long with his eyes, feeling
both admiration and pity for the poor man. Is
there no happy medium between Alexander and
Diogenes? Must we be anvil when we are not strong
enough to be hammer?
He entered the park and sauntered listlessly about amid
the hedges and bushes on familiar paths. The hour for
supper had not yet come; and as he knew that he would
have to sit alone in the deserted dining-room, he was not in
a hurry to return to the house. Besides, the evening was
glorious. In the thick copses the nightingales were singing
incessantly; the parterres of flowers exhaled fragrant perfumes which filled the cool, balsamic air; a broad, saffroncolored band lay on the western horizon, and golden-veined
clouds floated here and there through the light green ether,
while the lofty aisles under the ancient trees were already
wrapped in darkness.
And gradually the darkness increased and spread in all
directions; a single golden star glittered high on the dim
sky above the masses of almost black evergreens.
Wolfgang's eyes were charmed by this star, whose light
seemed to shine down into his heart. The emotion which
the schoolmaster's words had caused him, still vibrated in
his soul, but in wider and wider waves, like the great rings
which the falling of an apple causes on the smooth mirror of
a silent garden lake at night. Thoughts of love filled his
heart, but not the love of a dreaming philanthropist, but the
strong love of youth, which sees a whole world in two fair
brown eyes. " Why should I not worship in that one star,




The House of Iohenslein.           55
the whole starry sky? Its twinkling light lifts me higher
above earthly cares than the sight of myriads of sparkling
constellations! No, I will not forsake man because of my
interest in mankind, nor dream away the present for the
sake of the future. I will love man, but I will begin with
the individual; and above all, with you, sweetest of maidens,
whose eyes shine with sacred fire like yonder star, whose
voice is as sweet as the nightingale's song, whose loving ways
charm me, like the balsamic, fragrant air I breathe..."
The young man fell into a blissful, dithyrambic state of
mind, such as he had never known before. He laid aside,
like a hateful convent garb, the thoughtful, sombre gravity
which early and painful experience of life, the narrowness
of his surroundings, and the severe demands of his studies,
had prematurely given him. He felt as if he were just beginning to live; as if he were for the first time conscious of his
youth and his vigor; as if the image of painful self-sacrifice
which the melancholy saint had shown him in his solitary
tower, had awakened more powerfully in him a youthful
desire for happiness, for love, for a full and hearty enjoyment of his existence.
He threw himself upon a grassy bank overhung by a lilac
bush with its rich fragrant clusters of flowers. His head
was in a glow; he buried his burning face in both hands.
A slight rustling, as of a silk dress, quite near him, roused
him from his ecstacy. He raised his head, and before him
stood, surrounded by the mild evening light, Camilla.
With a cry of joyful surprise he started up. One glance at
the clear'brown eyes full of fire-he opened his arms,
Camilla hung on his bosom, and the young, love-thirsty lips
drank bliss in one long, tender kiss.
"Camilla, sweet one, darling, do you love me as I love
you?"
Camilla's answer was, a second kiss, warmer, more conscious than the first, given and taken by surprise. Her
whole being seemed to well over in overwhelming rapture.
It seemed as if kisses were the only language in which the
soul of the girl could make itself understood. She had no
other reply to all of Wolfgang's tender words.
He put his arm around her slender waist, and thus they
sauntered slowly through the darkening avenues by the light




56              7he House of Hohenstein.
of the stars, which came out one by one on the blue sky, and
the song of the nightingales which floated in softer and fuller
tones. A feeling of happiness, such as Wolfgang never had
dreamt of in his hours of warmest longing, filled his heart, and
overflowed in words of sweetest flattery, in a thousand ardent vows, and in rich and brilliant fancies such as can only
arise in the mind of a clever and ingenuous youth, whose
noble heart is full of love. " You know, darling, I see in
my happiness, as in a chaste mirror, the happiness of mankind. I believe in the omnipotence of love to make all men
happy, now that it has performed such a miracle in me. I
see before me, in brilliant clearness, the aim which has been
dimly in my mind ever since I was a boy. I wished to do
something for the great work of setting free the nations of
the earth. But the individual can do nothing more than set
himself free-free from all the coarseness that adheres to us
-and that can be done only by love. My love for you
makes me fancy myself as fair and holy as you are. In my
love for you, and in your love for me, in our mutual love, I
shall have a talisman which will carry me unharmed through
all the troubles of earthly life. And others also will be benefited by this love; the hallowing power of love will affect
all who are near us. And even if it were not so-if our love
should perish with us as the perfume of a flower dies with
the flower-we shall not have lived in vain, for we have been
happy, unspeakably happy, have we not, darling? "
And again a tender kiss was the only answer Camilla had
for all of Wolfgang's burning words. And he cared for no
other answer! He thought it so sweet to find in a chaste,
pure maiden's heart the crystal cup, into which he could pour
all the pearls and diamonds, all that was most precious in
his thoughts and feelings; he thought it so beautiful to
awaken this silent Psyche to life by his kisses!
She had come close to him, and he laid his burning cheek
on her hair, damp with the evening dew. Suddenly she
started:
" Listen, what was that?"
" Nothing, darling, but the beating of my heart."
"No, no, somebody called-called your name; we must
not be found together."
She slipped out of Wolfgang's arms, hastened up a few




The House of Hohenstein.          57
steps which led to a terrace near one of the wings of the
chateau, and instantly disappeared behind the close hedges
and thick bosquets.
Wolfgang felt, as he suddenly stood alone in the dark garden, like a man who has been aroused from an enchanting
dream to face a very unpleasant reality. The abrupt manner in which Camilla had torn herself from him made him
feel as if a false note had broken in upon the wonderful harmony of his love hymn; but he had not time to let the
roughly-touched chord vibrate till it rested again. The voice,
which he had not heard before, now sounded close by him.
It was madame who angrily called his name, and between
the calls scolded at her visitors, who left her no peace by day
and by night. Wolfgang began to fear that some mishap
had occurred. "Here!" he cried, walking towards the housekeeper. " Here I am! what is the matter?"
"Ah, here you are at last!" replied madame. "This is
the third time the general has sent me out, It will give me
a cold, and rheumatism in the bargain, this damp, cold garden. But what is an old woman to you all? If the young
ladies and gentlemen can only amuse themselves well, everybody else in the house may die at his leisure!"
"My dear madame, I am sincerely sorry to have given
you so much trouble; but tell me, for heaven's sake, what is
the matter? Is granduncle sick? "
"Oh, the general is perfectly well; but at your home all
is not quite as well."
"Is my mother sick?-is she dead?" cried Wolfgang,
seizing madame violently by the arm.
"How do I know?" replied the latter, angrily. "You
would better ask the man with the carriage, who has been
waiting for more than two hours in the yard."
Wolfgang rushed out of the garden, without deigning to
say a word to the woman. Madame looked after him with
a sneering laugh. " He is gone," she said, " and the others
shall follow, I warrant that."
When Wolfgang came into the court-yard, he found old
Moss, who was feeding the horses with bread; he had not
taken them out. Old Moss was a livery-man, who kept his
stable near the house of Wolfgang's parents, and the young
man had known him and liked him from early childhood.
3




58            The House of Hohenstein.
Old Moss had often taken the boy into the stable while he
cleaned his horses, whistling at the same time most beautiful melodies. That was Moss's manner of talking. He did
not like to speak, and even now Wolfgang could not learn
much from him. He said the alderman's wife was sick; but
matters could not be very bad, because he had first driven
the alderman to a meeting of the Town Council before
coming out. It was probably all in the letter.
" What letter? "
Moss pointed with his bread-knife at the chateau.
"To the general?"
Moss nodded.
Wolfgang hastened back to the house and went straight
to his granduncle's room. A lamp with a green shade was
standing on the table, at which the general used to sit in the
evening reading; but the old gentleman was not in his armchair; he was limping about in the room, as he was in the
habit of doing when he was angry or otherwise excited. As
Wolfgang entered hastily, he turned round with much promptness, and holding out to him a letter which he had drawn
from a pocket in his dressing-gown, he said:
" There, you can read it yourself. I suppose it is not so
bad, after all. They always make much ado about nothing."
The letter, which Wolfgang took with a trembling hand,
was addressed to the general, and consisted only of a few
lines, in which his father wrote that his mother had been
suddenly attacked last night by her old headache, and
that in her wanderings she repeatedly asked for Wolfgang.
The father did not seem to think that the attack was serious,
but he desired Wolfgang to come home, merely to quiet his
mother, if his granduncle did not object.
" I would have liked to keep you here," said the general,
as Wolfgang looked at him after reading the letter. " You are
a different man from those unlucky creatures, your cousins;
but it is better you should return to your work. I mean to
do something for you, my boy; it won't do you any harm if
you listen to me. Now, make haste and get away, and write
to me how your mother is."
There was a suspicion of feeling in the tone in which
the general spoke, which Wolfgang would never have suspected in the obstinate, grim old man, and which touched




The House of Hohenstein.          59
him doubly at this moment, when his mind was moved by
so many and so varied impressions. He pressed his uncle's
bony hand cordially, and left the room, after stammering a
few incoherent words of gratitude.
A few minutes later he was in the carriage. Old Moss
clicked his tongue, and the vehicle rattled across the uneven
corduroy road of the court-yard. In the room occupied by
the president's wife a light was burning.  As the horses
started, the curtain moved, and a girl's head appeared for a
moment behind the panes, but Wolfgang did not look up.
On the night sky, which rose like a brazen vault above him,
there glittered countless stars, but Wolfgang had no eye now
for all their splendor. He only thought of his sick mother,
of the danger which threatened her whom he loved so
devotedly.
CHAPTER IX.
AMILLA had hardly rejoined her mother, when Lili, the
maid, brought Baron Hohenstein's regards and his
regrets at being unable to say good-by in person, as he
was compelled to leave very suddenly. Why he had to leave
was very well known to the president's wife and to Camilla,
and had been so for the last two hours, during which the
carriage which was to take Wolfgang to town had been
waiting under their windows. The effect which Wolfgang's
departure might have on the situation generally, and especially on the general, had been the subject of conversation
between mother and daughter for a long time. The result
was, that Camilla put her shawl over her beautiful shoulders
and went down into the shady garden to help look for her
cousin. " He will thank you very much for this expression
of your sympathy," said the mamma; " and as circumstances
are, it is perhaps safer to go a little too far in our kindness
to him than to appear wanting." The good lady had actually left her bed in order to be able to bid farewell to her
nephew, and to show him her deep sympathy. The message
brought by the maid was, therefore, by no means welcome.




60             The House of'Hohenstein.
She was all the more curious now to hear her daughter's
report, especially as the mother's eye had not failed to perceive a certain excitement in Camilla's face and manner
when she entered. The maid had no sooner left the room
again, than the president's wife said to the young lady, as she
laid aside her shawl and came to sit by her on the sofa:
"Well, did you see him?-what did he say?-was he
much overcome?-was he very grateful? "
"I did not say a word about his mother's sickness to
him," replied Camilla.
" No? What then did you say? How could you avoid
the unpleasant subject? "
" He did not give me time to speak. He  "
"Well?" asked her mother, quite excited, as Camilla
paused with a kind of embarrassment.
" I found him sitting on a bench-near the little chestnut
coppice, you know, mamma, when you go up the terrace. He
held his head in his hand, and I thought he was asleep. I
thought my steps would wake him up, and walked up to him.
Then, as I was close before him, he rose, and-in a word,
mamma, he declared he loved me."
"That is very well," said the mamma. "I hope you
answered him properly, and allowed him no kind of familiarity?"
"Why, mamma! " cried Camilla, raising her fair head, as
if filled with indignation.
" Well, well, child," said the old lady, taking the hands of
her favorite child and caressing them tenderly; "under
other circumstances that might not have been so very much
amiss; nothing binds a lover more firmly than a kiss. They
think, unless they are perfectly blase, that it puts them
under obligation, and I should not advise you, therefore, to
play the prude with a lover whom you mean to marry. But
you are right, we are not quite so far as that yet with'Wolfgang. He is just now high in favor with your granduncle;
only last night the gen'eral said pretty clearly that Wolfgang
had so far the best prospect to inherit the bulk of his property. But then who can rely on the general?-to-day one
way, and to-morrow another way, just as his humor may be,
and as he has been treated by madame. He is a terrible
old man, and I make an enormous sacrifice for your sake,




The House of Hohenstein.          6i
my dear child, by staying so long in this abominable house,
where ennui stares at you in every room. But, as I was
going to say, what did you tell him in reply?"
" I told him," said Camilla, very decidedly, " that his declaration surprised me so much that I hardly knew what to
say to it; that I was fond of him, and felt an almost sisterly
affection for him  "
"You dear, dear child!" exclaimed the mother, drawing
the clever young lady towards her, and kissing her on her
forehead.
" But that I could say neither yes nor no, and begged him
to give me time for reflection."
"Well, very well indeed! You said nothing about me?"
"I thought it would be better to leave you for the present
entirely out of the question. I thought it might embarrass
you to have to decide before the other question is settled."
" You dear, dear child!" cried the lady once more in her
exuberant, maternal pride, "you have acted just as I wished
you to act. There must be no public declaration now, I
pray you, child, for your granduncle may still change his
mind! Well, I suppose we could manage to break it off;
but still, it would be very disagreeable. It is much better
so. You remain perfectly free with your other admirers, and
Willamowsky will be a very good match when his stingy
old father dies, which you know must happen sooner or later.
There goes the carriage. Show yourself at the window-that
can do no harm! Alas! dear child, I wish we could get
out of this provisional state, as your father calls it. These
efforts to succeed are terrible. I am sure, the days I have
spent in this abominable house will cost me as many years
of my life. I wonder how you bear the infliction so well.
Half an hour's conversation with the terrible old man or
with his hateful housekeeper irritates my nerves to an intolerable degree. I wish I were away, and I am sure I shall
not be able to endure it much longer."
The good lady was on the point of sinking back into her
corner of the sofa, exhausted by her long speech, when the
maid appeared once more, saying: " His excellency wishes
to see the young lady at once." This message at so late an
hour surprised the ladies very much, and they felt by no
means reassured when Lili, availing herself of the evident




62             The House of Hohenstein.
embarrassment of her mistress, added: " There is something
going on down stairs, I am sure; for his excellency has been
quarrelling with his housekeeper in her own room, and it was
awful to hear. I am half frightened out of my wits."
"What can it mean?" asked the president's wife, anxiously, when Lili had left them at her order.
" We'll soon see," said Camilla, boldly; and though her heart
beat violently, she left the room with an apparently calm and
collected manner.
A few minutes later she returned.
"Well, what was it?" asked her mother.
" Granduncle sends you his kindest regards, and wishes to
know when you propose returning to town?"
" It cannot be."
" His own words!"
"Oh, then it has all been in vain! " said the lady, piteously; "my poor, poor child! "
" I hope matters are not quite so bad," replied Camilla,
contracting her brows in deep thought. " Granduncle was,
notwithstanding, very gracious, and said at last in a whisper,
probably in order that madame might not hear it through
the key-hole, where she was no doubt listening, that he mearnt
very well by myself and Wolfgang, and asked me if I would
like to marry Wolfgang, if he should make us his heirs?"
The happy mother clapped her fat hands in joyful surprise, and said:
"Then you will have to engage yourself,- after all, and as
soon as possible."
" I suppose that will be the best," said the wise young lady.
" My darling child! my jewel of a daughter!" exclaimed
the affectionate mother, and embraced, in deep emotion, her
obedient child.
— o —CHAPTER       X.
N one of the long narrow streets of the old and venerable city on the Rhine, which run parallel with the
banks of the river from the steamboat wharf to the
neighborhood of the great cathedral, there stood in the year




The House of Hohenstein.           63
eighteen hundred and forty-eight (and perhaps there is still
standing) a house which looks somewhat different from the
small and rather shabby houses around it. Not that the
house was particularly large and fine-far from it! It might
have looked quite stately when it was just finished; and the
honest burgess who owned it, and the architect who built it,
might both have enjoyed it heartily. But now the days of
its fresh youth were long since gone, and the two or three
hundred years during which it had been exposed to wind
and weather had left very legible traces behind them. The
different stories, each one of which overhung the one
beneath it-and there were three of them besides the pointed
gable end-had given way, here to one side, and there to
another, so that all the windows squinted more or less; the
carvings on the heads of the beams had become effaced and
could hardly be recognized; the same fate had befallen the
stonehewn escutcheon over the enormous oaken door, which
was always standing open, and gave free access to a very
roomy hall, with a gallery running all around it, from which
doors led to the inner rooms. In a word: the house, whatever it might have been heretofore, was now only what people call a "remarkable old box." Nevertheless its present
owner, Peter Schmitz, who had a printing office, and published a daily. paper, was very proud of it, and would not
have exchanged it for a palace, perhaps, because it had been
so long in possession of his family, that his sister Bella, in
her weaker moments, actually imagined the mutilated coatof-arms over the front-door to be their own. That was not
so. The family Schmitz was by no means noble. Peter
Schmitz himself had no fondness for the nobility; and when
his sister spoke of their coat-of-arms, was wont laughingly to
call her an old fool. In fact, the family had no reason whatever for being proud.  For generations they had been
extremely poor; and though Peter Schmitz had succeeded
by his energy and intelligence in making the old printing
press in the rear still do some good work, he also recollected very well that not so very long ago it was perfectly
silent, and the whole existence of the family depended on
the prosperity of a little shop which provided the neighborhood with paper, pens, sealing wax, and an ink prepared
according to a secret prescription by old Anthon Schmitz.




64             The House of KHohensteiz.
Peter Schmitz even maintained that since he had been compelled as a boy to help his father in the manufacture of this
ink, his hands had never become white again. He loved to
speak of that whole period as a blot in the history of the
Schmitz family, which all the water of the river that had
since rushed by could never wash out again.
When little Peter Schmitz, with his broad shoulders and
his sanguine temperament, came to talk of this subject-which
happened but rarely -he was apt to lose his usual animation. He would even become melancholy for a few minutes
-but only for a few minutes, for Peter Schmitz had little
time for such unprofitable vagaries. He would, in such
cases, pass his hand through his stiff hair, which was fast turning gray, although he was but little over forty years old, and
whistling three or four bars of a popular air, resume his
work.
The blot in the history of the Schmitz family was of this
nature:
When old Anthon Schmitz, some thirty years ago, gave up
his press for want of patronage and capital, he hung out
over the window to the left of the front-door, where now
" Office of the People's Journal" was to be read in gilt letters, a small sign with the words: " Variety Store, by Anthon
Schmitz." At that time the poor man was no longer in a
position to provide for his children's education, much as he
wished to do so.  Eugene, then sixteen years old, had to
leave the second class of the gymnasium and go to Thuringia
to a machine shop; and Bella, who was two years older, went
to a farmer in the country, where she was to learn housekeeping. The two younger children, Peter and Margaret,
stayed at home, but only in order to make themselves as
useful as they could in the new business. Peter assisted his
father in the manufacture of ink in the rear building, where
the printing press was still standing; and Margaret, then
twelve years old, remained in the shop to help her mother.
Those were hard years, those years of ink manufacture.
The neighborhood seemed to have given up letter writing, to
the special injury of the Schmitz family; the mother was
sickly, and died soon after; the children who had been sent
abroad were unlucky. Eugene, who had to serve his year
in the army, could not learn to bend his lively temper under




The House of Hoihenstein.         65
the strict army regulations, found life in a little fortress unendurable, insulted his lieutenant, and was condemned to
several years' imprisonment in a citadel. Bella, a pretty,
clever girl, fared worse and worse in various families, where
she tried her fortune, and degenerated sadly. Old Anthon
Schmitz, one of those men who can bear neither good nor
evil fortune, became as bitter by all these mishaps as the
gall-nuts which he used in making ink; and poor Peter, in
his miniature distillery, and Margaret in the dingy shop, led
a joyless life in the dismal, decaying house, to which no
lodger had come now for many a year. And yet the old man
sincerely wished to secure the welfare of all his children,
and especially that of Margaret, who had always been his favorite. It would have been difficult indeed for any one not
to love Margaret, for she was a wonderfully lovely little thing.
Dark-eyed and dark-haired like all the Schmitzes, with a
slender figure, and a delicate, aristocratic face, looking still
more refined by reason of its slightly melancholy expression,
she might at eighteen have served a painter or a sculptor
as a model for a Psyche or a Muse. All who came near
her felt the charm that surrounded her person; the whole
neighborhood was proud of her, and called her simply
Fair Margaret!   But nobody was prouder of her, and
nobody thought her more beautiful, than her brother Peter.
She was to him poetry itself: she was his comfort, his consolation in all the sufferings which his passionate heart had
to endure. A smile from her, a kindly " Poor, dear Peter! "
from her lips, were ample reward for all his hard, joyless
labor, and for the peevish humor of his father. The hope to
raise her one of these days from her lowly sphere to
wealth and splendor was the dream of his young yearsthe light in the lighthouse, that gave him strength to bear
the rough storms of life.  And the broad shoulders of
the young man, with his dark bright eyes under his bushy
eye-brows, and his firm, straight brow under the full, black
hair, were not put in vain to the wheels of Fortune's
car. His clear mind discovered at last that the awkward
manner in which his father carried on the business was
the principal impediment in the way of success. He proposed a new plan, which the surly father had to approve
against his will. For he saw that to make ink was at best




66             The House of Hohenstein.
not a very profitable enterprise, and that a better method of
manipulating rags might produce a better and cheaper kind
of paper. In a cold room, and by the feeble light of miserable tallow candles, Peter studied chemistry, physics, and mechanics, and ere long he had discovered a new method,
which the government appreciated to such a degree that it
granted him a patent for ten years. Now all that was necessary was the capital required to carry out the plans which
had cost him so many busy days and sleepless nights. The
capital was soon found. The old, broken-down father had
not been able to obtain the loan of a dollar; the young man
with the small bright eyes and the firmly-closed lips, which
yet would open at the right time and speak most persuasively, had no difficulty in obtaining thousands. The old
man could not endure the rising of a new star over his decaying house. It distressed him that the ardently-desired
end should be attained by other means than those he had
thought best. From the day on which the new machinery
was put up in the rear building, he never again appeared in
the work-rooms. He locked himself up in his chamber,
grumbling about eggs that meant to be wiser than the hens
that had laid them, and about trees that proposed to grow up
into the heavens. At last he fell sick; he talked much of
dry grass, that ought to be gathered and thrown in the oven;
and before long he died, although the physicians were not
exactly able to say what disease carried him off. Peter said
afterwards quite seriously: "of the new machinery." At
that time, however, he had no leisure to meditate much on
the causes of the old man's death, although he had always
sincerely loved and honored him; for the fitting up and the
working of his new factory required all his attention. The
iron was on the anvil, and Peter Schmitz was the man to
strike it while it was hot. Now at last he saw a possibility
of doing something for his family, for his poor brother Eugene-who after having suffered five years' imprisonment for
a wrong which would have been amply expiated in five days,
had just been pardoned on the occurrence of a happy family
event in the reigning house-for his sister Bella, before she
lost all her freshness and health in her sad surroundings; and
above all, for his youngest, his best beloved sister Margaret.
But, strange enough, the brighter the world looked to Peter,




The House of Hohenstein            67
the happier his face looked with hope and active exertion,
the more visibly the roses on fair Margaret's cheeks were
fading away, and the more strongly marked became the melancholy expression in her charming face.
For some time Peter Schmitz did not know how to explain'the state in which his sister was, and which made him very
sad. At first he thought it was her grief for her father, but
then it occurred to him that she had shown the same sadness even before his death. Then he fancied it might be
her loneliness in the mournful house, and he proposed to
her to send for their sister Bella; but, strange enough, Margaret would not hear of it. She said that Bella was very
well off in her present situation, and she herself wished
nothing better than to be alone, quite alone; and. as she said
these words, her beautiful eyes filled with tears. Peter tried
to guess the cause, but he never discovered it-probably
because it lay too far apart from the path which he was pursuing with such energy. He had had little leisure in his life
to think of the interests which commonly occupy young people most in the interval between eighteen and twenty-four.
Peter had fallen in love onley once-as a boy of ten, with a
little girl of rosy cheeks and blond hair, who went to the
same school with him, and with whom he had faithfully
shared his buttered rolls and his apples. Since then he had
known no other love but that for his sister Margaret; and, as
such things will happen, he had always fancied that this love
was mutual and exclusive, so that he had looked down upon
all of his sister's admirers with that absolute security which
so often lulls to sleep brothers who worship their sisters. His
fair Margaret to be in love with an ordinary, beer-drinking,
tobacco-smoking, ten-pin-rolling creature, who sat behind a
desk and wrote out bills! That was impossible-in fact,
inconceivable; and Peter had laughed at the young men
who made efforts to please Margaret, as if they had been
children trying to upset a lighthouse by throwing shells at it.
But the laugh was no longer on his side, when one of these
young men told him one fine day that he knew'very well
the cause of Margaret's coyness, and that her brother would
be little pleased to hear it. Peter started up in his passionate love for his sister and his violent temper, and
insisted upon it that the young man must eat his own words




68             The House of Hohenstein.
or come out with the whole story, if he was not willing to
be looked upon as a villainous story-teller.  The latter,
pushed to the wall, had been forced to inform Peter that his
sister had an affair-not of to-day or yesterday, but which
had lasted for some considerable time-with an officer, Lieutenant Arthur Hohenstein.  Peter tried to laugh, but he
could not do it. The young man who had given him this
information was an old schoolmate of his, whom he knew
to be a perfectly honorable and reliable man, so that no
doubt could be entertained as to the facts. Besides, he was
paymaster in the lieutenant's regiment, and knew his circumstances; and what was worst of all, he brought evidence
against which Peter could not well close his eyes, unless he
chose purposely not to see anything. According to the paymaster's report, Margaret's love affair had long ceased to be
a secret; half the neighborhood, if not the whole, knew all
about it; and the lieutenant's comrades toasted at their suppers the "Ballad," for this was the name a clever comrade of Baron Hohenstein had given the beautiful girl on
account of her dark, melancholy eyes. Poor Peter was terribly distressed by this news, and wept tears in comparison
with which the saddest tears he had ever shed over his inkpots were real tears of joy. His first thought was to take
from the wall a rusty old cavalry pistol which he had once
found in a dark corner of the rear building, and which was
now hanging over his bed, in order to shoot the seducer of his
sister like a mad dog. His second thought was, that he ought
at all events first to question Margaret as to the truth of what
he had heard, for Peter was an upright man, and hated the
idea of condemning any one without a hearing. He went
with a heavy heart immediately after his interview with
the paymaster, to Margaret's room. She was sitting in the
deep embrasure of a bay-window, around which was trained
a screen of ivy, looking at the evening clouds as they drifted
over the gables of the adjoining houses; and as he entered,
he said, in a gentle, sad voice: "Oh, Margaret! what have
I done that you no longer confide in me?"
He was going to say more, but could not go on, and
threw himself into an old arm-chair opposite Margaret, and
hid his face in his hand. She saw at the first glance at his
disturbed countenance, and heard in the first words he had




The House of Hohenstein.          69
uttered, that he knew all. The consciousness of her ingratitude towards this best and tenderest of brothers, cut her
heart like a two-edged sword; she threw herself at his feet,
embraced his knees, and sobbed out: "Peter, Peter, forgive me! I could not help myself!" This dear, pitiful
voice brought Peter back to himself. He felt it was his
duty to see, to judge, and to act, and that in order to do so
he would need all his energy.  He therefore passed his
hands quickly across his eyes, as he dropped them from his
face, drew his weeping sister on his knees, and let her cry
out the first storm of her feelings on his bosom. Then, as
her tears began to flow more gently, and her heart was no
longer beating violently, he began to speak to her gently
and kindly, and begged her by the memory of their youth,
and by all the sorrows they had borne in common, to let him
share also in this sorrow, which he knew she would not tell
to the priest in the confessional, but which she surely might
entrust to him, whose heart had beaten for her, and for her
only, ever since he could think. And Margaret told him,
with many tears and much hesitation, the romance of her
life.
She told him that she had made the acquaintance of
Arthur Hohenstein about a year. ago, when he had come
into the shop to buy a cigar-case; he had called again and
again under various pretexts, and yet she had not suspected
that he came on her account, till one day he had given her
a note, in which he confessed his love. " I was going to
give you the letter," she said, "but I could not do it;
for —I loved him as he loved me."
Peter started like a man who suddenly sees the point
of a dagger aimed at his heart; but he remained still, and
said quietly: " What happened next, Margaret? "
" I did not see him for some time, for he had told me in
his letter that if I did not love him, I had better send no
answer at all; and I did not answer, and he did not comethat is, not into the shop, for I saw him pass in the street
every day. At last, during Carnival-I had lost you and
the others in the crowd-he was suddenly by my side. How
he had found me out among all the people, I cannot imagine; but he took' my arm, and I let him do it. I did not
know what I was doing, in my confusion. I only felt that




70             The House of Hohenstein.
if he should ask me once more if I loved him, I should have
to answer him Yes! And he did ask me, and I said, Yes,
and forever!"
"And what happened next, Margaret?"
" Since then I have seen him frequently at the house of
my friend Eliza, whose brother you know is assistant-surgeon in the military hospital; and he has brought me home
several times."
"Is that all, Margaret?"
"It is, God help me!"
" And what do you think is to be done now?"
Margaret began to weep again. "I do not know," she
sobbed; " I never thought of it."
"Yes, Margaret," said Peter, gently, "you have thought
of it; and because you did not know how this would end, you
have been so sad of late. You have no doubt thought at
times: He will marry me. But that will not be so. He cannot marry a poor lowly-born girl, for he is an officer, and he
is not allowed to marry as he chooses, even if-what I doubt
very much-he should wish to marry you."
" Arthur loves me! Our position makes him as unhappy
as it does me! " cried Margaret, enthusiastically.
" We'll see that!" said Peter, rising from his seat.
" What are you going to do, Peter? " asked his sister, anxiously, for she was frightened by the resolute expression of
her brother's manly face.
" Nothing but go to him and arrange this matter with
him."
"I shall never leave him! He will never leave me!"
cried Margaret; and as she said so, a ray of the setting sun
fell through the dim, leaden-framed panes upon her beautiful
face, and made it all aglow with its burning cheeks and eyes
full of sparkling tears. "Poor, poor child! " sighed Peter,
drawing Margaret to him and kissing her on her brow.
" Be quiet, Margaret," he said; "I shall not forget that
you have neither father nor mother.".Then with bowed head, but with a firm, calm step, he left
the room.
Peter did not find Baron Hohenstein at his rooms. He
came again next morning before parade.' It was Sunday.
The lieutenant was in full uniform; and Peter, who had never




The House of Hohenstein.          7r
seen him before, was surprised at the great beauty of the
young man, although he was not exactly in a state of mind
to pay much attention to such matters. On the other hand,
he did not fail to notice also a certain expression of satiety,
which was very distinctly visible in his large dark eyes without fire, and in the corners of the soft, full lips, over which a
little black moustache was just beginning to appear.
Arthur received the brother of his beloved with such distinguished courtesy, and at the same time with such pleasing
modesty in his looks and his words, that Peter Schmitz had
to make quite an effort to remain firm in his purpose. He
listened calmly to the lieutenant's assurances of the honesty
of his intentions, the great love he felt for Margaret, and the
despair with which he was filled on account of his unfortunate, dependent position. Then he said: "All this, or at
least most of this, you ought to have considered, Baron Hohenstein, before you made the reputation of an honest girl
the common talk at your mess-table. Now the question is
only, What do you propose to do? You cannot marry my
sister?"
" I am afraid not," said Arthur, dejectedly.
" For," continued Peter, "I cannot give my sister a dower
of twelve thousand dollars-that is, I believe, what you must
have before the government permits you to marry-and
you have, as far as I know, no means of your own; but instead, if report tells the truth, many. obligations which for
some reason or other you are unable to discharge."
The lieutenant had blushed deeply at these last words, and
had been about to break out with an angry "Sir!" but
Peter's eye looked so resolute that he gave up the idea of
intimidating him.
" However that may be," continued Peter again, " this
much is certain. You cannot marry her. Now, as you cannot do that, and as my sister does not deserve to become the
common talk of the people, I demand your word of honor
that you will never approach her again, by word or letter or
any way-mind me well, Baron Hohenstein!-and that you
will do what in you lies to make amends for the mischief
you have done, by availing yourself of every opportunity to
silence all reports you may hear concerning my sister and
her relations to you."




72             The House of Hohenstein.
Arthur Hohenstein had listened to these words, his head
resting in his hand. Now he looked up and said:
"I cannot give you my word of honor. I cannot do it,
because I love Margaret-I cannot give her up, as she cannot give me up. Oh, Mr. Schmitz," continued the young
man, seizing with irresistible cordiality both of Peter's hands
and holding them fast, " have pity on your sister! have pity
on us both! Do not treat me worse than my creditors do.
Give me time! Let me consider! Is it not hard enough
that I am a victim of this spirit of caste-that I am compelled to sacrifice body and soul to the Moloch of a false
sense of honor? Must you happy people who stand outside
and can freely follow the inclinations of your heart, must
you make our brilliant misery still more miserable by your
hostile mistrust and your cold heartlessness, instead of helping us bear our burden?"
Peter Schmitz's ears and heart were always open to the
reasons which anybody wished to plead in favor of his cause,
and he felt that the lieutenant's charge was not altogether
unfounded. On the other side, he was conscious of having
come to the man his sister loved with a sense of jealous hatred; and that he, therefore, must be doubly watchful over
himself. He told the lieutenant that, at his request, and to
show his own fairness, he would give him eight days' time to
consider; and then he left him-by no means with a lighter
heart than he had come.
During the next eight days an event occurred which was
to be of the greatest importance for the lieutenant's position
in life, and therefore also for his resolution. His father,
the governor of the province, died suddenly from paralysis;
and it turned out that the great dignitary had left very heavy
debts behind him in spite of his large income. His own
manner of life and that of his four sons had prepared the
world for such a disclosure, but his children were taken by
surprise.
The poor creditors hoped at first that their illustrious
debtor's promise would be fulfilled, and that his childless and
unmarried brother, the general at Rheinfeld, would open his
purse and satisfy their demands. They found themselves
soon undeceived.  The general's purse was far less open
than his language. He told the creditors, when they pre



Tle House of Hohenstein.          73
sented themselves at the chateau, that they "might go to
the devil;" and his nephews, that "they had helped the old
gentleman cook the broth, and eat it, too, and now they
might see how they could pay for it." This was, of course,
more easily said than done; but as a family of such ancient
renown, which had presented the country with countless
majors, colonels, and generals, and at times even with privy
councillors and high dignitaries in the church, could not be
expected to bear the heavy burden like other people, the
sovereign came to their help and paid the creditors out of
his privy purse. They were distinctly told, however, that
this was the last time such assistance would be given. The
two elder brothers, Gisbert, then captain, and Philip, then
assistant-judge-the one in his native town, the other at the
capital-took the warning from the throne to heart. They
became engaged as soon as possible, in order to give proof
of their firm intention to break with the past.  The
youngest, Ernest, the wildest of the whole band, and the
enfant terrible of the whole family, a lieutenant like his
brother Arthur, threw up his commission and went to South
America, where he was told he could be a general in a week
if he had good luck; and thus there remained only Arthur,
the handsome Hohenstein. The world took it for granted
that with his good looks and his pleasant manners he would
soon succeed in marrying a rich girl, and'thus arrange his
affairs, which were said to be still in very bad order, in spite
of the royal subsidies.
But things happened very differently from what the world
expected.
Four weeks had elapsed since the governor's death, and
Arthur had apparently forgotten the promise he had made
Peter Schmitz.  Peter thought it very natural, under the
circumstances, and was only troubled and pained by Margaret's looks, which became more anxious than ever as the
time passed on without a decision. He tried his best to
soothe his sister by the tenderest affection, but he felt that
he did not succeed, and could not, and his heart grew
heavier and heavier as he perceived that Margaret would
never be weaned from her attachment. And still that must
be done. Peter saw no other way of escape, much as he
thought on the subject.
4




74             The House of Hohenstein.
Thus they were sitting one evening opposite each other.
It was November; the autumnal wind was howling through
the narrow streets; the little panes rattled in their leaden
frames under the driving rain; and in the huge chimney,
strange, melancholy noises were heard. Peter had never
thought the old house so joyless and sad; and as he looked
from time to time at Margaret in the midst of his calculations, and saw her sitting silent and pale, with her work resting idle in her lap, he wondered in his despairing soul if it
might not be better for the poor girl if she were lying dead
in the cold, black earth, released from all grief and sorrow.
At that moment the maid came in to say that there was a gentleman outside who wished to see master. Margaret started
from her revery, and pressed her hand upon her heart, anxiously fixing her eyes on the door. Peter, anticipating the
same thing, rose to meet the stranger, whose tall form towered high above the maid. The visitor entered quickly,
closed the door behind him, and fell at Margaret's feet, burying his face in her lap. Margaret broke into tears, and then,
placing her hands gently on her lover's head, she smiled
with happiness, and looked through her tears at her brother,
as if she meant to say: "You see I shall be happy after
all!"
Thus at least leter interpreted her look; and as Arthur
Hohenstein now rose and stepped up to him, extending his
hand as if in obedience to an inner emotion which found no
words to express itself, Peter took the hand which he had so
firmly determined never to clasp again. Arthur Hohenstein,
man of the world as he was, succeeded first in breaking the
awkward silence which had so far reigned in the room.
"Pardon me, Mr. Schmitz," he said, " if I call upon you
at your own house against your expectations and perhaps
against your wishes. But I could not resist the temptation
to see Margaret, and to tell you that I am more firmly resolved than ever, come what may, never to give her up."
Margaret fell in her lover's arms. Peter drummed with
his fingers on the table and bit his under-lip. He was painfully embarrassed. He could not, without hurting Margaret's
feelings most grievously, speak to the lieutenant as an honest
man ought to speak to him. He regretted deeply in his
heart the lieutenant's idea of calling on his adversary in his




The House of Htohenstein.         75
own house, and thus to carry the war on ground where sun
and wind were both favorable to him; and yet he also felt,
when he saw Margaret looking so happy, as if a very heavy
burden had been taken off his shoulders. He was even
rather proud that the son of a governor, scion of a most noble
family, should come as a petitioner to him, the obscure, lowborn man; and although Peter Schmitz did not clearly
acknowledge this feeling to himself, yet it did not lose its
influence over his resolves on this eventful evening.
Arthur had been thoughtful enough not to come in uniform,
and Peter Schmitz mentioned in the course of his conversation how much he preferred seeing him thus. The lieutenant at once replied: " Ah, you may believe me, I should be
but too glad to lay aside the king's coat, which more than
anything else keeps me from marrying Margaret, if I only
knew what I could do without it. I am willing to give up
everything for Margaret: my rank, my profession-life itself,
if I could love her without living."
He put his arm around Margaret's slender waist, and thus
they walked up and down in the dark background of the
room; while Peter sat by the lamp, resting his head in his
left hand, and drumming with his right on the table. Suddenly he looked up and said: " Baron Hohenstein, you love
my sister?"
" Do I love her?" cried the lieutenant, with an emphasis
which sounded almost too theatrical.
"Well then," said Peter, "I will show you a way to
marry her."
The lieutenant looked at Peter with some astonishment,
for, to tell the truth, that possibility appeared to him tonight just as problematic as it had been four weeks ago.
"It is true," continued Peter, "it will require some selfdenial and some courage on your part-I do not mean such
courage as you gentlemen of the army have, but that courage which we poor people in our humble position have to
practise daily, and which we value perhaps all the more
highly. I have no fortune, as I told you; but I have what
is almost as good-work, paying work; and it rests with you
to share that work and the proceeds of that work. You are
not older than I am, and you have had a good education.
What I have learned in many years by my own industry, I




76             The House of fHohenstein.
can teach you in as many weeks. Will you be my partner?
I want somebody to help me, and to represent the business
outside more acceptably than I can do with my rough manners. I don't know what you may lose if you accept my
proposition; but I need not tell you what you gain, for that
you know yourself."
The lieutenant's first impulse at this strange proposition,
was to burst out laughing. But in the first place, this would
have been a gross impropriety, such as a Hohenstein could
not commit, especially under the circumstances; and then he
loved Margaret very earnestly; finally, his situation, in spite
of the favor shown to his family by the monarch himself, was
still so precarious that he feared he would sooner or later
have to leave the army at all events.  He looked from
Peter's honest face to Margaret's dark eyes, which were
hanging on his lips in anxious expectation, and back again
to Peter, and at last he said: " I will do all I can to show
you how much I am in earnest."
Margaret threw herself, in her delight, on Arthur's bosom,
and Peter offered him his hand-this time without reluctance and regret; for when Peter Schmitz had once formed a
resolution, he did not shrink from the consequences.
A few weeks later, the higher society of the town was surprised by the news that "handsome Hohenstein" had left
the service, and engaged himself to a pretty girl of the lower
classes; not publicly-for the father's death was still too
recent-but yet engaged himself in good earnest.  The
report even had it that the ex-lieutenant had become a
sleeping partner in his future brother-in-law's business, and,
as some witty man added, was going to manufacture his
own paper for the notes he was in the habit of giving his
creditors. The great world was amazed and disgusted at
this "scandal." The general at Rheinfeld said, in his usual
amiable way, alluding to the new profession his nephew
had chosen, "that the ragged fellow, stripped of his king's
coat, had probably counted upon him in his enterprise as a
paper manufacturer; but he would have nothing to do with
rags or ragged people." The brothers were aghast. One
had just been made councillor, and returned to his native
town; while the other had been promoted, probably in order
to make him a better match for the Countess Selma Duren



The House of Hohenstein.           77
Lilienfeld, whom he was about to marry; and both entreated
him to abandon a purpose which would "disgrace" the
whole family, and-if he really could not do anything better
-rather to follow his younger brother's example and emigrate.
Arthur Hohenstein's character was by no means so very
strong as to enable him to disregard entirely the entreaties
of his brothers and the ironical remarks of his comrades; on
the contrary, he repented heartily twenty-four hours afterwards of the resolution which necessity and the surprise of
the moment had induced him to form. But weak characters are often influenced by the simple fact that matters
have gone too far to admit of retreat; and so it was with
Arthur.
Peter Schmitz had inaugurated their partnership by taking
a part of the capital which was so indispensable for the carrying on of the business, to pay the lieutenant's most pressing debts, and to provide a trousseau for Margaret. The
lion's share of care and labor fell as usual to him. The
new partnership was an illustration of the well-known fable
in which a giant and a dwarf went out together on their
adventures.  Nevertheless, and thanks mainly to Peter's
indefatigable activity and industrial genius, the enterprise
went on well enough for several years, and Peter would have
been perfectly contented if he had not made the painful discovery that his reward for all the sacrifices he had made for
his sister's happiness, was a daily increasing alienation
between himself and this very sister. Not that Margaret
meant to be ungrateful-far from it; but, unfortunately, difficulties arose between Peter and his noble brother-in-law.
The latter had surprised everybody by the rapidity with
which he had settled down in his new occupation; but slow,
simple, steady work was little to his taste, and he preferred
quick, exciting, and easy speculation, in which luck mainly
decided-that luck on which he had formerly so often relied
with more or less success at the faro-table. "Why should
we plague ourselves for years when we can make as much in
twenty-four hours?" was his constant complaint, and as
constantly he urged his brother-in-law to enter upon enterprises in which much could be gained, but everything might
be lost, and which Peter thought he could not venture upon




78             The House of Hohenstein.
without giving up the first principles of commercial honor.
As soon as matters did not go quite as well as usual-when
paper fell, or other unfortunate combinations affected the
sales-Arthur gave vent to his indignation against Peter in
Margaret's presence. "You ought to thank your brother
for all this: he wants to remain a beggar. To be sure, yeoman remains yeoman, and never learns to have pluck like
other men."
This difference in their ideas of business principles at last
led to an open rupture between the two partners, and under
circumstances which in Peter's eyes, and in the eyes of every
upright man, cast a dark shadow upon the character of the
nobleman who had become a manufacturer. Arthur had,
without Peter's knowledge and on his private account and
risk, entered upon a bold speculation, which succeeded, and
made him at one venture a well-to-do man. Peter knew
nothing of the matter, and Arthur gave notice that he would
dissolve the partnership the moment he heard of the success
of his venture, making certain difficulties, which he had purposely exaggerated, the pretext of this separation. The
treachery was all the blacker as this blow was struck at a
time when the outbreak of the July Revolution in France
had undermined credit in Germany also, and when, on that
account, the firm itself was in a most precarious condition.
The world, of course, did not take any notice of this dishonest manner of acting in the successful gambler; it only
paid him greater reverence than before, since success is the
world's god. It was not long before Arthur Hohenstein became one of the first men of the city. The doors of the
nobles, it is true, remained closed to him as heretofore, but
the citizens received him all the more cordially and with
open arms. Liberal views were then the fashion; and as
Arthur Hohenstein, irritated by the inexorable contempt of
the men of his own caste, and especially by the consistent
blindness which his brothers affected whenever they met
him, purposely displayed radical views, he obtained in the
easiest possible way the reputation of being a particularly
well-meaning and sensible man. No one reflected that Baron
Hohenstein only made a virtue of necessity; the broadshouldered, well-to-do citizen was flattered when the small
white hand of a baron pressed his own large rough ones




The House of Hoheznsein.           79
with cordial warmth. They made him an alderman of the
city as soon as there was a vacancy in the Town Council,
and were delighted when the pleasant, courteous man, who
cared so kindly for the common people, took his seat among
the other citizens. The government, knowing no doubt full
well what the liberalism of a Baron Hohenstein could at the
worst amount to, confirmed without hesitation the election
by the citizens.
While Arthur Hohenstein was thus comfortably and pleasantly consuming the chestnuts of popular favor and a respectable, lucrative office, the man who had gotten the
chestnuts out of the fire for him was compelled to work
on after the old fashion, without any other reward than the
approbation of his conscience. After Margaret's marriage,
Peter Schmitz had sent for his sister Bella; but she could
not replace the lost one in his heart, though she was an
excellent girl, without fault or blemish, and warmly attached
to her brother. Besides, her health had been seriously injured by the long slavery which the poor girl had been
compelled to endure; and instead of becoming a support for
Peter, who needed a strong hand and a clear mind to superintend his large household, she brought him only a patient
into the house, who required nursing and all the more tender attention as she had suffered in mind even more than in
body. In spite of many good and almost excellent qualities,
she worried herself and her friends by her tendency to see
everything in the darkest colors and by her sickly irritability,
and Peter especially by her jealousy. She could not forgive
her brother, that in his heart he was still devoted to his
Margaret with a touching, unshaken affection. And as if
that was not trouble enough, she was constantly afraid he
would be caught by a coquette, who might take advantage
of his blind good-nature; and thus she saw in every pretty girl
of the neighborhood who ever dared to show him some friendly
interest, a pretender to the seat at the head of his table.
Poor Peter! He had no time to go about and court
pretty girls! He had cares enough not to think of adding
the greatest of all cares to the number. Bella knew perfectly well, better than anybody else, how hard it was for
Peter to keep the business going, and at the same time to
assist his brother Eugene in his difficulties.




80             The House of Hohenstein.
For Brother Eugene had, after his liberation from imprisonment, returned to his old occupation, and found employment
in a machine shop. He had soon become foreman in the factory, had gained the good-will of the owner and the affections of
his daughter, had become his partner, and at last, after the
death of his father-in-law, sole proprietor of the establishment.
But Eugene was born under an unlucky star. He would
have succeeded in all his undertakings, if unfortunately everything had not happened differently from what it should have
done. Other machine shops arose like mushrooms in his immediate neighborhood; and Eugene, who had but a small capital invested in his business, could not keep up the competition.
He went back and back, and at last-it was of course Peter
again who had to help. Peter gave adyice, Peter gave
money, and if Eugene had followed the advice of his far more
intelligent brother with the same readiness with which he
took his money, all might yet have come right. But Eugene
was reckless, good-natured, easily deceived, and his establishment became a very tub of the Danaids, which pitilessly
swallowed up all the savings that Peter could slowly accumulate. The only pleasure which Peter had, when one of
Eugene's periodic misfortunes brought him to Cologne, was
his brother's only child, a dear, sweet girl, called Ottilia, who
had inherited her dark hair from her Rhenish relatives; and
from her mother, whom she had lost quite early, her large
blue eyes with their loving expression. Her lithe, tall figure
seemed to grow every year nearer to Uncle Peter's heart;
and her cheerful, winning manners became more and more
dear to him.
The years came and went with their noiseless step, which
is so light and yet leaves such deep, indelible traces. The
old house in River street had sunk a little lower, and the
panes had become, if possible, a little dimmer, but otherwise
the last twenty years had produced no essential change. All
the greater were the changes in the occupants. Peter's face
showed two deep lines, which rose from the root of the nose
straight up on his low forehead, and many others around the
lips, which were far more firmly closed than formerly. His hair,
though still abundant and very stiff, had turned quite gray.
This might have relieved Aunt Bella from her anxious fears
that Peter, now some forty odd years old, might suddenly




The House of Hohenstcin.          8 
take a step which would make him, in her opinion, undoubt
edly the most unhappy man on earth for the rest of his life;
but she suffered all the more with rheumatism and gout. Her
jealousy of Margaret, also, had by no means abated; although
for some time past the relations between Peter and his
brother had become of such a nature that the brothers
hardly ever met; and that even Wolfgang, who had before
felt very happy during his visits to the large, old-fashioned
house in River street, now came less and less frequently,
especially since he had become a student at the University
of Bonn.
If Peter had only known that his sister was happy, he
would have borne this alienation, if not easily, at least patiently, but Peter had many very weighty reasons to doubt
of Margaret's happiness. In the first place he had always
thought, and still thought at the bottom of his heart, (what
of course he told nobody), that no one on earth could love
and understand his sister as he did-least of all her own
husband. Peter could forgive everything except dishonesty;
and in his eyes the conduct of his brother-in-law had been
dishonest. A dishonest man, Peter reasoned, cannot love;
for love and truth, he said, are in reality one and the same
thing. And then, it had not escaped his sharp eyes that
the melancholy expression in Margaret's still beautiful face
had become more and more marked with every year; and
his sharp ears had, during his rare interviews with his sister,
heard many a low sigh, such as escape from the hearts of
persons who are not happy, without their being aware of it.
But what troubled Peter more than anything else, were
the evil reports which were still current in certain circles
about the manner in which Arthur Hohenstein did business,
and about the uncertainty of his financial condition. No
one, of course, dared suspect the alderman of bad faith.
But it was whispered about, that when he had money, he
loaned it out at usurious interest; and that when he had none,
which was said to be by no means a very rare occurrence,
he resorted to all kinds of manipulations, which business
men of high standing are not generally willing to consider
legitimate. It was also reported that he treated his debtors
with the utmost severity, while his creditors rarely succeeded
in recovering their money. They shrugged their shoulders
4t




82             The House of Hohenstein.
when the alderman was mentioned, and every such shrug
was a stab at Peter's heart, for he thought less of his
brother-in-law than of his sister; and he felt each time as if
it was she, and not he, who was thus judged by the world.
Thus the year eighteen hundred and forty-eight approached,
and brought new life and new work for Peter. An honest,
well-meaning, and energetic man, he had always been warmly
attached to the liberal party, as could not well be otherwise
with such a nature, and he had for years cherished a plan
for putting the long-forgotten printing presses in the rear
building once more into motion for the benefit of liberal
movements. The year forty-eight brought the execution of
this plan. Now wealthy men were readily found who were
desirous to do something for the common good, and in a
week the shares which Peter required for his enterprise were
all taken. Almost as readily a chief editor for the " People's
Journal" was found in the person of Peter's old friend,
Doctor Bernhard Munzer. The eighteenth of March found
editors, clerks, and printers-the whole staff of a daily
paper-in full activity; and Peter Schmitz rubbed his hands
with delight-the first time for many, many years!"because the'People's Journal' had not come limping after
the great event, but had, on the contrary, announced to the
world long beforehand that it must inevitably take place."
Although Peter needed only tour hours' sleep, he was yet
hardly able to satisfy all the demands made upon him as
publisher of a daily paper, as vice-president of the Republican League, and as a member of I know not how many
committees for I know not how many different purposes.
About a month later, just when he was in the midst of the
excitement over the elections for Frankfurth and Berlin, and
he hardly knew where to find time for his various engagements, a message came to him from Thuringia, which deeply
moved him, and induced him to leave for that province without delay.
The ill luck which had so persistently followed his brother
Eugene in all his enterprises, had at last culminated, and
then his star had sunk forever-and Brother Eugene likewise. As he was standing one fine morning in the machine
shop, cheerfully chatting with his foreman about the bright
prospects for the new additions to his business, he had come




The House of Hohenssein.           83
too near one of the wheels, which had seized him treacherously by the coat-tail and whirled him in an instant into destruction. Ottilia had fortunately been absent on a visit to
distant friends when her father's fearfully mutilated body
had at last been rescued from the merciless arms of the engine. The foreman-an honest man, from the Rhine, and
well known to Peter-immediately wrote -to the latter, informing him of the fearful event, and requesting him to come
over as soon as possible, since his presence was very desirable for many reasons. Poor Peter knew but too well what
was meant by the underscored word many, and took as much
money as he had on hand, arranged briefly everything with
Doctor Munzer for the time of his absence, told Sister Bella
he hoped to return in about a week with Ottilia, and begged
her by all means to see to it that Margaret did not hear unawares of the death of her brother. Bella wept bitterly, and
entreated Peter to be sure and n'ot to forget his flannel jacket,
and to take care that Ottilia was dressed very warm for the
railroad trip; and thus provided with ample instructions,
Peter left the city.
CHAPTER XI.
IT was on the evening of the same day, and at the same
hour, when Wolfgang parted with the schoolmaster Balthasar Hans at the little park-gate, that Aunt Bella-so
she was called by old and young in the whole neighborhoodsat by the window, busy with her embroidery. Without, the
light-blue sky of early spring was rising above the roofs,
gables, and chimneys of the countless mass of houses, on
which the last rays of the sun were casting rosy lights; but
River street was narrow, as most streets are in the old town
on the Rhine, and it was quite dark already in the deep, low
room. Close by the window, however, where Bella was sitting, it was still tolerably light; and one who should have
just then entered the room, would have seen her in the most
favorable light, and Aunt Bella had no objection whatever to
appear in a favorable light, for in spite of her forty-eight




84             The House of Hohe/zstceit.
years she was by no means above the vanities of the world.
She had the dark hair and the dark lively eyes of the Schmitz
family, but they were sunk deep in their sockets, and sickness
and sorrow had long since dulled their brightness. Still one
could see even now that twenty or twenty-five years ago
these eyes must have been very large and beautiful and
full of expression; and even now, whenever Aunt Bella was
excited by joy or wrath, a faint reflex of their former fire
would blaze up. But Aunt Bella liked especially to hear her
figure praised-and really it was still surprisingly youthful,
slender, and elegant; nor could it be denied that the good
lady, when she was in full dress, and seen at some little distance, might still be called decidedly fine looking.
To-day, however, she had had no time to make a careful
toilet. Peter had written that he would come next morning
with Ottilia; and Aunt Bella, who had expected him a day
later, had had her hands full in making the necessary preparations, which had been seriously delayed by a general
cleaning up feast and other heroic deeds of a domestic
nature, which she had accomplished during her brother's
absence - for Aunt Bella also had something of her
brother's active and energetic disposition, and did not like
to leave time unimproved. During the last days, besides,
she had tried to drown her grief for her brother's loss, and
her sorrow for the poor orphaned Ottilia, whom she had
only seen ten years ago as a little girl of eight, in unceasing
work and movement. She had succeeded at least in part,
but it had compelled her to neglect another piece of work
which she had promised to finish by this evening, and which,
therefore, must be done at once, for Aunt Bella kept her
word religiously. That was the reason why she had moved
so close up to the window, and, with her light-blue spectacles
on her nose, was sewing so industriously on her embroidery.
Aunt Bella's embroideries had quite a story of their own.
She worked incredible quantities, at every hour of the day,
and at every moment which she could spare from her domestic duties; but she did not embroider for her amusement
nor in order to give pleasure to others —at least not
directly. Aunt Bella embroidered for money. That was a
great secret, however, and as the good lady fancied, an
impenetrable secret for every, one born of woman.  Only




The House of Hohenstein.           85
her brother Peter was officially informed. For one day,
soon after she had moved into his house, she had said to
him: "It is not right, Peter, that you should work for us
all. You have trouble enough, and it makes my heart ache
to think that I am to be a burden to you too. I want to
earn my living, as I have done so far. It is true I have
learnt nothing; for the little French they taught me when I
went to school, I have long since forgotten, and I am too old
to commence again. My memory is wretched. I was trying
yesterday for four hours to learn a page in the dictionary by
heart, and I do not know a single word of it to-day. But I
used formerly to embroider very nicely, and I have an eye
for colors, and good taste, and I want to embroider for
money."
Thereupon she unfolded before Peter her plan, which was
to work for a shop in which Berlin wool and ready-made
embroideries were sold; but n6t in her own name, for that
might injure Peter's business, and people might say: "He
does not even make enough to support his own sister."  She
proposed to say that a great lady, reduced in her circumstances, was making them, and that she (Aunt Bella) had
undertaken, as agent of this same great personage, to dispose of the work to the firm of "Mary Blad, successor to
Gardner."
Peter Schmitz laughed aloud when Bella told him of her
resolution, and said: " That was folly; if they must count
between them, she was assisting him in housekeeping three
times as much as a regular housekeeper, and whose salary
and board he would have to pay; and besides, he was fortunately still so situated that his only surviving sister-here
Peter sighed and passed his hand through his hair-could
live without making herself blind with those miserable embroideries.  After all, however, if she wished it, he had
nothing to say to it; she might try; she would soon get tired
of it."
But in this point Peter was very much mistaken. He had,
strangely enough, much less sympathy with the peculiarities
of his elder sister, who was so very much like him in many
respects, than with the finer traits in Margaret's more poetical character, which was far less practical and energetic than
his own. Bella adhered to- her plan with the same persist



86             The HIouse. of Hohenstein.
ent energy with which her brother was accustomed to pursue
his own, as soon as they were once positively formed; and as
persistently she adhered to her secret, preserving her alias
in the shop where she sold her work, and in the world at
large, although the whole world was well aware of the true
state of things.  It was incredible what efforts Aunt Bella
made to preserve the secret that was so well known to everybody, and yet so strictly respected; it was incredible how
many falsehoods were resorted to by the good creature, who
in all other respects was honesty and uprightness personified. She haggled with the manager of the shop about a few
pennies, because she could not permit the great lady, whose
agent she was, to work for nothing. To deceive the friends
who came to the house, she invented a host of relations in
America, China, and Australia, for whose sons she worked
countless travelling-bags, smoking-caps, pocket-books, and
cigar-holders. At one time she was a member of a society
for supplying all the churches at the Cape of Good Hope
with altar-coverings; at another time of a society which
provided each one of the children of orphan-houses at their
dismissal with a pair of pretty slippers, to express symbolically their wish that their path through life might be soft and
pleasant. Whenever Aunt Bella had been forced into a new
invention of this kind, and her conscience smote her for it,
she cast a look at the weather-beaten escutcheon cut in stone
and inserted above the front-door. If this almost illegible
coat-of-arms was not that of the Schmitz family in whose
possession the house had now been for more than a hundred
years, whose was it then? No one could tell, and until Aunt
Bella had another answer than her own to this question, she was
determined to call it the coat-of-arms of the Schmitz family.
Nay, she thought it was more pardonable for the daughter of
such an old patrician family to tell a white lie than to acknowledge the painful truth that she worked like a common workwoman for the firm of "Mary Blad, successor to Gardner."
Aunt Bella was sitting by the window sewing with intense
zeal on the canvas which the mysterious lady had promised
to furnish this evening, before the shop was closed. Her
zeal was all the greater, as the sun had long since disappeared behind the gable of the opposite house, and Aunt
Bella could not well distinguish the nicer shades of color in




The House of Hfohenstein.          87
the fading light. Her head bent low, her spectacles nearly
slipping off her nose, she was gazing at the unlucky embroidery, which would not come to an end, and at the same
time her head was full of confused thoughts. - She thought
of the fearful shock it must have been to Ottilia when they
told her that her father was dead, and she could not even
see him; she thought of the effect the news might have had
on her sister Margaret, and almost regretted she had
not gone over last night to see her, instead of merely writing. Was it not strange, though, that Margaret had not
come to see her? "I believe she has lost all interest in us
now, and yet she used to be such a dear, sweet, affectionate
girl." Then Aunt Bella thought of Peter's flannel jacket,
which he had no doubt laid aside during the warm weather;
and now he would catch a bad cold, rheumatism would follow next, then typhoid fever, and death was not improbable.
And what would become of poor Ottilia if Peter should
really die, the old house should be sold, and she and Ottilia
had to go out into the wide world? Then gout would come
and attack her hands, and she would no longer be able to
work, and would be obliged to go to the hospital; and
dying in the hospital, they would afterwards dissect her, orhorror of horrors!-she might only be in a trance and be
buried alive!  And then she would awake in her grave,
feel the heavy lid of the coffin weighing her down, know
that six feet of earth were on top of that, and her cries
of anguish were smothered with herself in the dread night
of the grave...!
Aunt Bella gave herself up so completely to this vision
that she at last found, to her dismay, how many blunders
she had made in her work, thus losing altogether the labor
of the last ten minutes.
She felt almost in despair, took the spectacles from her
nose, and let the embroidery sink in her lap. " I am born
to ill-luck," she said, angrily; "everything miscarries,
small things and great things. On other days, when I do
not want to see anybody, they come in hosts, and to-day
not a soul comes, not even Clara, with her clever hands and
sharp eyes. It is cruel."
At that moment a knock was heard on the door, and a
soft, melodious voice asked: "May I come in?"




88             The House of Hohenstein.
"Clara!" cried Aunt Bella, "God be thanked! Come in
quickly, dearest Clara, and take off your things. You must
help me about this work. Will you?"
"Can you ask, Aunt Bella!" And Clara Munzer put
aside her bonnet and shawl, smoothed with her hands her
plain, braided hair, and took a seat opposite to Aunt Bella
at the window.
— o —
CHAPTER XII.
"'T HEKRE! Now give it to me," said Clara, when Bella. had told her all about her mistakes. " I shall manage it more quickly than you can, if you let me do it
by myself, and I know this imperfect light is bad for your
eyes."
Aunt Bella surrendered the canvas after some hesitation,
took off her spectacles, leaned wearily back in her chair, and
looked with pleasure at the young woman before her, who
plied her needle with marvellous skill, looking up from time
to time at her old friend with true, open eyes.
Clara Munzer was a declared favorite of Aunt Bella; and
there were few men anywhere who did not like the quiet, modest woman. All agreed, it is true, that she was not handsome;
only well made, of medium size, and slender. Her hair was
dark, but not very abundant, quite smooth and worn in unpretending braids; her gray eyes looked sweet and intelligent, but would hardly have inspired a poet; her features
were far from being regular, although they looked so, thanks
to the harmony within; and as to her complexion, even
Aunt Bella had to confess that it would have been better if
there had been fewer freckles in her face. "But that is all
folly," said Aunt Bella. "I was tolerably pretty when I was
young, and what has that done for me? The main thing is,
that the heart is right, and Clara Munzer's heart is just what
it ought to be, and I only wish I could say as much of certain other people."
"How you go on, Clara! " said Aunt Bella.
" No wonder," said Clara, without even looking up from her




The House of Hohenslein.          89
work; "is not that all I know? But must the shoes be absolutely finished to-night?"
"Ah, dearest Clara!" said Aunt Bella. "Don't you
know that wretched Orphan House Society? Next week
twelve more children are to leave, and I have been foolish
enough to undertake half a dozen slippers, which must be ready
to-night, to be sent off at once. Just now, when my hands are
so full! It is enough to drive one mad! "
" Has Peter written yet?" asked Clara, in order to give
the conversation another turn, less painful to Aunt Bella.
"Yes! Did I not- tell you? He is coming to-morrow
morning in the six o'clock train. Travelling all night!
Just like Peter! I have been full of trouble and anxiety
about it. You know how horribly careless he is. We shall
have to be very grateful if he does not fall on the rails and is
mangled there, like poor, poor Eugene... "
Aunt Bella's eyes filled with tears; but she had wept so
much already over Eugene's death, that she really succeeded
this time in mastering her emotion.
"And poor Ottilia," she continued, " I have not seen her
for ten years; how she must have changed, the poor little
thing! I believe I should not know her, if I were to meet
her in the street. Ah Clara! I mean to pet and to cherish
the poor girl, so she shall not miss father and mother here.
I am sure they could not have loved her better than I mean
to do. Don't you think so?"
" I am sure of it," replied Clara, looking up from her work.
"I not only believe it, but I know it. And I also know
that Ottilia with her beauty will soon drive away plain Clara,
and so I ought not to be as glad of her coming as I am."
"Fie! you ought to be ashamed, Clara, to make such
speeches! " said Bella. " I have never in my life yet forsaken anybody, unless I was betrayed by him, and not even
then; but certainly nobody to whom I could be useful, and
who-well, Clara, you are not happy, although you always
get into a passion when I say a word about that."
Clara had taken her work up again, and was sewing
busily, bending her head over it lower than before. After
a pause she said in a low tone without looking up:
"No, Aunt Bella, I am quite happy. Please don't say
again I am not happy."




90             The House of Hohenstein.
"Oh pshaw, dear Clara, truth is a stuff which you may
wash as you choose; it always keeps its color. If I could
make you happy by keeping my counsel, I should not open
my lips once; but just on the contrary, I think it is always
best to say out boldly how matters stand; and if you
were to tell your husband one of these days how they really
stand, it would do no harm, I think."
"But, for heaven's sake, Aunt Bella, what could I tell
him?" cried the young woman, in evident embarrassment.
"You ought to tell him," replied Aunt Bella eagerly, "that
because he has written a couple of books he has no right
to do as if he was made of better stuff than we poor mortals. You ought to tell him that he ought to be thankful to
have such a sweet little wife as you are, Clara, and such
sweet little children as your little ones-no, let me finish!and then you can tell him incidentally that it is no great
thing to talk all the time of the people's welfare, and the
people's happiness, and heaven knows what great heroic
deeds; but that people would do well to sweep before their
own door first, and that I did not mind how unhappy the
people were, if he would but make his dear little wife a little
happier."
Clara Munzer had repeatedly changed color during this
speech, restraining her tears only by a great effort. Now,
when Bella paused, she looked up with tearful eyes, and said
in a soft voice, trembling with emotion:
"Aunt Bella, you know how much I love you, and how
highly I esteem you; you know you are the only friend I
have, and how much I value your friendship and your love;
but just for that reason I must not listen to you when you
speak thus about Bernhard; and if it were -really so, and I
were really not happy, would you deprive me also of our
friendship for each other? "
"Well, well!" said Aunt Bella, soothingly; "I did not
mean any harm; between friends we must not weigh our
words so carefully, or there would be an end soon of all
pleasant chat.. You know I think very highly of Munzer,
and he deserves it; but for that very reason he ought to
attend to the main thing, or else all his learning, and his
knowledge, and his talents, and Heaven knows what else,
will not avail him  anything-anything whatever," said




The House of Hohenstein.           91
Aunt Bella, passing her left hand repeatedly over her right
hand.
" But what do you want of Bernhard?" cried Clara. " Is
he not very good to me, much better than such an insignificant creature as I am deserves? Is he not all affection to
his children? Does he not work for us day and night?"
Aunt Bella shrugged her shoulders. "He works too
much for others," she said; "and what is worse, for'other
people who do not concern him; and what is worst, for people who laugh at his good nature behind his back. How
much does he give away every year to unlucky adventurers,
who beg on the plea of their genius, and especially of late?
I should not say anything if he were a rich man, but-"
" Bernhard has to do that," his wife said, very peremptorily;
"he owes it to his position; he refuses many, because he
cannot assist them all. I only wish he could."
"Well, never mind now, dear Clara," said Aunt Bella.
"I know what I know; and what I see with my own eyes, no
one can persuade me is not so. I only wish your husband
may not, one of these days, like my brother, become the victim of his'convictions,' as they call it. How was it in town
to-day?"
"Very quiet; and so I hoped Bernhard might feel like
taking a walk with me after his business was done at the
office. I have not been out for a long time."
"I will send down stairs and inquire," said Aunt Bella.
Clara objected, but Aunt Bella insisted. The maid brought
Doctor Munzer's compliments, but he had a great deal to do
to-night; Mrs. Munzer had better go home alone, and soon,
for there would probably be some disturbance in town that
night.
"Again?" said Aunt Bella, folding her hands. "Why cannot people keep quiet? What on earth do they want? The
king has given them everything. Come, dear Clara, I'll go
home with you; I have to go out anyway about the slippers.
Miss Blad promised to sell them for me; it is on my way.
Wait a moment, dear Clara; I must change my dress, I look
like a fright."
Aunt Bella disappeared in the adjoining room, and Clara
heard during the next five minutes how she opened a dozen
boxes and locked them again, rattling her keys very energeti



92             The House of Hohenstein.
cally; for Aunt Bella, although painfully strict and honest
herself, was still full of mistrust of others, and especially of
servants, so that she never left her room without first having assured herself that every one of the countless drawers
in which she kept the thousand-and-one trifles of her oldmaid's finery were securely protected against attacks from
without.
At' last she appeared, her head covered with an old-fashioned, broad-brimmed hat, and just at that moment the maid
handed her a letter in Peter's handwriting: " We shall be
home Friday evening by the seven o'clock train. Both well.
Send word to Munzer. Au revoir."
" Well, there we are! " cried Bella. "I knew everything
would be going wrong to-day. If Peter's room were only dry.
But not even that! I cannot go with you, Clara. You will
have to go alone, Clara, but do not stop on your way; and
when you pass Miss Blad's, just hand her the parcel and
say it is from me. Miss Blad knows all about it. Goodby, dearest Clara. You must call to-morrow. Good-by,
dear child! " And Aunt Bella nearly pushed her friend out
of the door, for Miss Blad's shop closed at half-past seven.
Aunt Bella would never have forgiven herself if the fictitious
great lady had once failed to keep her promise.
Clara Munzer had no sooner reached the corner of River
street, than a cab drove up from the other side and stopped
before the gable-house with the overhanging upper stories. A
low, square man with gray hair jumped out, cast a quick,
inquiring glance at the house, as if he wished to make sure
that all was right, and then helped out a young lady, whose
beauty so surprised the maid, as she came out to aid in
bringing in the luggage, that she could not find an answer
to her master's question: " Where on earth is Miss Bella?"
Five minutes later the news of the arrival of master and
the young lady reached Peter's room, where Bella was busy restoring order after the cleaning festival, with the assistance of a
squinting apprentice, Fritz, and a good natured cook called
Priscilla. She was nearly out of breath from her efforts, but
she quickly handed the broom to the apprentice (who made
a fearful face at her behind her back), and hurried down the
narrow steps into the sitting-room. To open the door, to
see beautiful Ottilia in her deep mourning, to break out in




The House of Hohenstein.          93
tears, and to kiss the poor child again and again amid tears
and sobs, all this was the work of a moment for good, kindhearted Aunt Bella.
"Well, never mind now, Bella," said Peter, interfering,
when at last his turn also came to be embraced; "never
mind now! Help Ottilia to pull off her bonnet and cloak,
and make her comfortable. I must go down to the office."
Peter Schmitz once more caressed Ottilia's beautiful cheeks
with a gentle hand and paternal tenderness, and hastened
to the office. He had no time to make himself comfortable
when he came home from a journey.
CHAPTER XIII.'"     OOD-DAY, gentlemen! How are things coming on?"
-J ~  said Peter Schmitz, as he entered the room with his
usual rapid step.
" Badly! " said Doctor Munzer, placing his left hand in
Peter's right, and with his own right hand going on writing
the article on which he was engaged.
" See there, Schmitz-orum " said Doctor Holm, glad of
the interruption, and rising from his chair on the other side
of the table to limp towards Peter; "prosit-orumn  How
do? Happily back from the land of the evergreen pinetrees? And where left you the maiden, the most unhappy
of orphans? "
- " Be pleased, Holm, to wait one minute with your execrable hexameters, till I have finished this article," said Doctor
Munzer.
"Let silence reign and work go on! " said Doctor Holm,
with a majestic wave of his hand towards his busy colleague,
while he drew Peter Schmitz to the window and asked him
there, in an undertone, after the events of his journey.
The office was a tolerably large room-very dismal, however, on account of the low ceiling and the fact that the two
small windows looked upon the yard. The walls had been
papered, but dampness and mould had loosened the paper,




94             The House of Hohenstein.
which presented in its ragged appearance a strange contrast
between its baskets of fruit, grotesque birds, and fantastic
flowers, and the dirt that covered everything else in the room.
The furniture was extremely simple: a large, square table,
covered with papers, books, and writing material, in the centre;
three cane arm-chairs and a cupboard stuffed full of old
papers. In a second door a small window had been inserted, which was half covered with a curtain of faded green
silk, through which the printers could be seen at their cases.
The atmosphere in the room was very peculiar, in spite of
the open windows-an unpleasant mixture of the odor of
fresh printing ink and stale tobacco smoke.
"Now! "-Doctor Munzer threw his pen on the table,
handed the damp sheet through the little window with the
admonition to be quick about it, and to bring the proofsheets, and then he turned to the two men, shaking hands
once more with Peter Schmitz and saying: " Now, welcome,
mon cher / It was high time you should return. We are in
a crisis. This very night the question whether the revolution is to live or to die, has to be decided for our city, and
by means of the example we are going to set the other cities,
perhaps also for the whole kingdom."
"Why, what is the matter? " asked Peter.
" Did not Holm tell you?" replied Doctor Munzer, with a
severe look of his large, fiery blue eyes, at Holm. "What
on earth have you been talking about?"
"Only about the coming of Ottilia, sweetest of maidens,"
replied Doctor Holm, taking his pipe from his mouth and
describing an O in the air with the mouthpiece.
"Ah!" said Doctor Munzer, drily. "Well, I'am glad
she is here, and we shall have time enough to-morrow to
rejoice at her coming.  But to-day we have more serious
work to do. We have determined," he continued, turning
to Peter, " as I wrote you, to compel the magistrates to
carry out the arming of the people in good earnest.  Tonight an imposing demonstration is to be made. We can
dispose of five thousand workmen and other people, who
are to march to the City Hall and demand arms. We must
frighten the rascals; and now is our time. They will not
venture to call in the military; we must strike the iron while
it is hot."




The House of Hahenstein.          95
"Excellent! splendid!" said Peter, who had listened,
without taking his eyes off Munzer for a moment. " When is
it to be?"
"We have announced a general meeting this evening at
eight o'clock at the Roman Hall. It is the largest hall."
"And the best beer," said Holm.
" For Holm and other thirsty souls," continued Munzer.
"I am going to speak, and you must speak, Schmitz; but
do me the favor and be a little less good-natured, just for tonight as an exception. Go as far as you possibly can, and
stir up the people by telling them of the unfortunate results at the South. They must learn at last that a revolution without organization in conflict with a well-organized
government, is no better than a mouse in the claws of a
cat."
"Doctor, the proof!" cried a voice, and a hand'offered
the damp sheet through the window.
" An extra? " asked Schmitz.
" Yes! " replied Munzer, going to his seat at the table,
the sheet in hand; " only a few. lines; the last news, and a
few appropriate remarks."
"Inappropriate, you ought to say," growled Doctor Holm,
who had taken his seat again in the chair opposite to Doctor
Munzer, and who now filled his pipe from a drawer in the
table, which contained his supply of tobacco. Peter Schmitz,
evidently busy in his mind with the speech he was going to
deliver, walked rapidly up and down in the room, and passed
his hand incessantly through his thick gray hair.
Munzer finished his corrections, returned the sheet
through the little window, admonishing the foreman, Muller,
once more to hasten the matter so that the printers could go
and attend the meeting, and then remained standing with his
arms folded and his back leaning against the door-post,
while his eyes were fixed thoughtfully on the ground.
" It is remarkable," he said, after a pause, and as if speaking to himself, "that we Germans never have the courage
to act till it is too late for action. If we were to follow you,
Holm, we would now adjourn to an inn, instead of holding
a meeting; we would probably have a few speeches over our
beer, but very good-natured ones, and we would explain to
the good citizens how, if the government should ever put




96             The House of Hohenstein.
a sword in our hands, we would prepare and lunge and
thrust.,"
"You said a great word in your innocence," replied Holm,
kindly. " Much do I want indeed a refreshing drink at the
tavern-for, in spite of all who despise the world and the
good things thereof,'To the good man it is granted,
At night, when rest is wanted,
To meditate and think:
Where can I get good drink?'
But this desire, common to all mankind, is not my reason for
voting against your plans, but my very special conviction
that the moment is ill-chosen for a coup de main, and that we
shall fail lamentably."
"But why, for heaven's sake? Why? why?" cried Peter
Schmitz, who had repeatedly opened his lips to say something, while Doctor Holm had given his opinion very slowly,
as was his habit. " The moment could not be more favorable; the occurrences at the South are most encouraging,
and.."
"Discouraging, you mean to say," remarked Doctor
Holm, interrupting him. " They are against us altogether.
They show very clearly to all who are not, like yourselves,
blinded by passion, that the cause of the people finds very
little support among the people themselves.'That will not
prevent the peaceful citizen from seeing in every little row a
revolutionary rising, but it will frighten our people, and
justly so, and at such a moment you demand arms for the
people! That means to the mind of the fanatic adherents
of the government,'You proclaim a republic!' You will
see how far that leads you! But if the thing miscarriesand I am confident it will miscarry-then the consequences
"may be pretty bad for us. Your election, friend Munzer, is by
no means sure. President Hohenstein has many more votes
than you think, and to-night you will drive all the uncertain
and wavering voters into his net, who might possibly have
voted for you. Therefore I say, better it were if we drank
an abundance of luscious March-beer, or of the golden
juice of the grape, though I prefer the former."
Doctor Holm had in his last words resumed his ordinary
good-humored tone, which he was apt to exchange for a




The House of Hohenstein.           97
very pathetic manner of speaking when he became excited.
Munzer had listened with great attention. "Yes, yes,"
he said, and an ironical smile played over his features,
" Holm is right, quite right for all who in their political
calculations look upon man as'the cynic does, and sees in
him nothing but a two-legged animal, with eyes cast down,
and no care but for the stomach. But I do not intend looking upon him in that light, even at the risk of being mistaken. I mean to act as if I had to do with men, and not with
brutal carnivorous and herbivorous animals; and besides, it is
too late to repent. The meeting has been advertised, and
everybody knows what is intended; if we were now to change
front, we should be reproached not only with excessive caution, but with absolute cowardice, and thus lose credit for
the future. Don't you think so, Schmitz?"
"Most assuredly," replied Peter; "I am in favor of
doing something serious at last. You know my motto:
Rather the end with horror, than horror without an end. I
have found the disposition of the people generally very
good. They only wait for some decisive blow in one of the
large cities. The people are determined, but if you do not
make a start, the best of machines remains inactive."
" That is exactly what I say," exclaimed Doctor Holm,
now really excited. " You look upon the people to-day as
an inert machine, which you can manage as you choose, and
to-morrow it is the essence of life, of energy and wisdom.
It is neither the one nor the other, but simply a mass of
more or less good men and more or less bad musicians, each
one of whom has his own interests; and if you wish to make
the whole company act in concert, you must first learn how
to reconcile all these millions of individual ambitions.
There is the mystery."
"What is the use of talking?" cried Munzer, impatiently.
"We have gone too far to hold back. It is time to attend
the meeting; we must not delay. Are you going or not?"
" Why will you at once flare up and become violent?" replied Holm, emptying his pipe; "when all go, Holm will
not stay behind. Holm does not contradict himself so
badly. Up, to Rome! A knock! Come in! What new
nuisance is this?"
5




98             The House of Hohenstein.
The door opened suddenly, and in rushed a thick-set,
broad-shouldered man in a blue blouse, whose coarse face
was covered with coal-dust, perspiration, and blood, and
whose small, squinting eyes shone with passion. He had
hardly entered, when he cried, out of breath: "We are betrayed! we are betrayed!"
"What is the matter, Christopher?" all three asked, as
with one voice.
"That dog, that pale, yellow-toothed rascal!" cried Christopher, and'aimed a blow at somebody with his gigantic
hand, which would have infallibly floored the most powerful
adversary.
"Well, Christopher, what is it?" asked Munzer, with a
calmness very little in harmony with his anxious looks.
" That's what it is! " replied Christopher. He took off
his cap, and with his cap a blood-stained, ragged cotton
handkerchief, which had been put on a wound in his head;
a few drops of blood trickled through the bushy black hair
upon his forehead.
" Here, take some water from this caraffe," said Peter
Schmitz, " and sit down. You'll faint."
Christopher grinned. " Not so easily, Mr. Schmitz; I
have been knocked down worse than that, and it is my rage
that makes me so mad. But I'll give it to that dog! He
shall pay for it!"
Christopher poured water on the handkerchief, pressed it
on his head, and putting his cap on again, he said: " By
your leave; gentlemen, it won't stay otherwise; and now, I'll
tell you what has made me so terribly mad. About half an
hour ago, the foreman, that yellow-toothed, pale rascal, came
into our section and said:'We shall shut up shop early tonight, and Mr. Heydman begs-' just listen, gentlemen, he
said begs!-' you will all come out into the yard, where the
others are already waiting; he wants to say a few words to
us.' I up and told him that if Mr. Heydman was not going
to say that we should have an hour less work every day, and
a quarter of a dollar more wages, he might shut up! Well,
gentlemen, that was all right, I tell you, for you see, doctor-"
" Go on, go on! " said Doctor Munzer, impatiently.
" So we went into the yard, and whom did we find there
but all the other men, perhaps a hundred or more, and in




The House of tfohenstein.         99
their midst Mr. Heydman and"-here Christopher glanced
with his squinting eyes at Peter Schmitz-" and well, Mr.
Schmitz, it isn't your fault, but I should not like to have
such a rascal for my brother-in-law."
" Was the alderman there? " asked Peter.
"Yes, and he gave us a long speech: told us that of
course we were not as well treated as we deserved; but if we
would only have patience, things would be better in a short
time; only we must keep very quiet, and not make any disturbance. That's why he did not want us to go to the
meeting to-night. The men, he said, who were the leaders
in that movement, were members of the Republican League,
who only wanted to fish in troubled waters, and did not care
the snap of the finger for us, and a good deal more of such
stuff, that I have forgotten again. I thought, I'll salt your
soup for you, so you can't eat it, and I stepped forward
and said: Friends, that is all stuff and nonsense. If the
alderman knows how he can help us, he had better come to
the meeting. There are men there who can answer him
better than such simple folks as we are. And besides, said
I, the alderman ought to be ashamed to talk that way of the
gentlemen of the Republican League, when he knows very
well that his own brother-in-law, Mr. Schmitz, is vice-president of that League, and it is a poor bird that fouls his own
nest. Now I thought they would all cry:'three cheers for
Christopher!' but no such luck; they hung their heads;
and the foreman, that nasty dog, seizes me by the breast,
and cries:'Out with the troublesome fellow!' and Mr.
Heydman cries:'Don't let him show himself again in the
factory!' and a dozen cowardly curs, whose backs I have
tanned from time to time, cry too:'Out, out with him!' As
I shook off the foreman, and he fell rather hard against the
wall, they all rushed upon me. Well, gentlemen, I fought
as well as I could, but many hounds are the hare's death,
and at last they pitched me out of the yard into the street;
but I'll make them pay for it, as sure as my name is Christopher Unkel!"
Christopher beat upon the table so that the ink spirted
out of the ink-stand upon the papers.  The three men
looked at each other.
"Yes," Christopher continued, "and the alderman has




100            The House of Hohenstein.
also been at Scheider's and at Greathead & Co., and the
other workshops, saying at each place that they had
received him well everywhere, and they surely would not
make an exception."
"That looks bad," said Peter Schmitz.
"Foul-orum/" said Doctor Holm.
"Come what may!" cried Munzer, vehemently, "we
must do our duty. To retreat now, means to give up the
game; and I shall certainly see first if my voice has lost its
power over the people. Are you coming or not? "
Munzer had started up, pressing his slouched hat on his
dark curly hair.
"Hurrah!" cried Christopher. "Now for it! We'll knock
them together so that they sha'n't be able to move their
bones for a week."
" Of course, we are coming," said Peter Schmitz, taking
his dusty overcoat, which he had laid on the window-sill
when he came in, and hanging it over his arm.
" Give me your arm, Oh Christopher, mighty and muscular brother!" said Doctor Holm, slowly rising from his
arm-chair.
The four men left the office. In the hall Peter recollected that he had not said good-by to the ladies.
"Why should you disturb the peace of the good souls?"
said Munzer; "we have not a minute to lose, come on!"
They reached the street, and were here received by a
crowd of mechanics and workmen of like views, who had
been waiting for the "gentlemen of the People's Journal,"
in order to carry them in triumph to the Roman Hall, the
large beer house in the suburbs where the meeting was to be
held.
CHAPTER XIV.
T was perhaps two hours later. The spring night had
spread its soft transparent veil over the woods and
fields, the river and the town. The full moon was floating over the dark blue sky, and bathed the crowd of
steeples, gables, and roofs in its peaceful light.




The House of Hohenstein.          101
But down below, in the moonlit streets between the towering houses, a countless multitude was restlessly surging to
and fro. The beautiful spring night and the vague report
that "something would happen," which had spread over the
whole city, kept the people wide awake. They were standing about in small groups in the streets and on the public
squares; they were moving in crowds, shouting and singing
through the great thoroughfares. It was as noisy as in the
time of the carnival, but instead of exuberant joyousness,
vague disquiet and anxious expectation filled to-day all
minds.
In the great room of the old City Hall the fathers of
the city had been assembled since the afternoon, with their
president, the chief burgomaster, doctor at law, Sebaldus
Dasch. Mr. Sebaldus Dasch was a fine looking gentleman, six
feet high in his stocking feet, and at the same time unusually
stout and broad shouldered. Perhaps Mr. Sebaldus Dasch
would not have become so very broad and large, if since he
assumed his high office ten years ago he had had to endure
only once a month for twenty-four hours as much anxiety
as he suffered to-day. His rivals and adversaries asserted
even, that since last March he had lost a pound of flesh a
day, and it could not be denied that his bloated face had
altogether lost that self - confident, not to say impudent
smile, which was ordinarily playing about his thick, coarse
lips and his small half-closed eyes. But he had, on the
other hand, never ceased wiping the perspiration from his
care-worn brow, especially on this beautiful, warm spring
evening.
It was, to be sure, very close in the lofty council-room, behind the immensely thick walls, and it was not to be wondered at that the chief burgomaster and the other members
of the council were every moment going to the deep embrasures of the windows, to look through the carefully-drawn
green curtains upon the great square below, which was filled
with people. They drew a sigh of relief when they saw the
battalion of town militia, which had been under arms since
an. early hour of the afternoon, still maintaining its position
in front of the City Hall. But the darker it grew, and the
redder the flames in the immense brasiers before the entrancegate of the City Hall fell upon the gable-end of the house on




102            The House of Hohenstein.
the square, the more anxiously the gentlemen looked at
their own situation. It seemed to be beyond doubt now
that the leaders of the crowd purposely prolonged the popular meeting at the Roman Hall, in order to carry out their
abominable purposes under the shelter of night. What
might not be expected from the insolence of these people?
Plundering, burning, murder-these were the first acts, no
doubt, to be perpetrated.
It was in vain that some of the less timid members tried
to rouse the failing courage of the others by showing them
that things were not quite as bad as they seemed. Alderman Hohenstein, especially, pointed out the great success
with which his efforts to win the workmen in the factories
for the good cause had been crowned. He had visited during the afternoon, under direction of the council, six large
establishments, and had everywhere found the men remarkably well disposed. Only in the large machine-shop of
Heydman & Co. a few voices had been raised in opposition,
but these also had been promptly and energetically silenced.
Now, he maintained, there was no cause for apprehension,
so long as this dangerous class of laborers was not in union
with the rebels. Then Baron Hohenstein remarked that,
unless the messengers sent out at different times had all of
them told falsehoods, the popular meeting was by no means
as well attended as the leaders of the populace had hoped,
and the friends of good order had feared. Instead of six
thousand, perhaps as many hundreds, and rather less than
more. His only apprehension was, that the late hour might
suggest some demonstration; he added that Doctor Munzer
was a dangerous subject; and his brother-in-law, Peter
Schmitz-here the alderman shrugged his shoulders-to
say the least, a very eccentric man; but that both of them
were too sensible to join an undertaking which, they could
not doubt, must end badly, and might compromise them
irreparably, and even endanger their lives. Finally, he assured
them that several of his former friends among the officers
had repeatedly told him that the troops were burning with
the desire to punish the populace for their sufferings during
the long confinement to barracks, and that they only waited
for the order to fall upon the rioters.
Baron Hohenstein did not convince them, it is true, but




The aouse of Hohenstein.          103
they all acknowledged the great-or, as Burgomaster Dasch
emphatically called them, the immortal-services which he
had rendered the city to-day by his prudent, energetic manner of action; and they were all the more grateful now, as they
had probably expected very different things from the alderman whose liberal views had brought him into bad repute
with some. But the last eight days had produced a remarkable change in the views of the alderman; he had made a
very decided turn " to the right." It was said he had been
reconciled to his enormously rich uncle, the old general at
Rheinfeld; and of his relations to his brothers, all the world
had been able to judge this afternoon, when President Hohenstein had come to the City Hall to confer with the Town
Council: the two brothers had openly embraced each other in
the great hall in the presence.of all the clerks and messengers. Well, after all, it was not so very strange that a nobleman of such old and unmixed descent should recollect at the
decisive moment that his ancestors had, centuries before the
reigning dynasty, obtained possession of the province, ruled
here as imperial barons, with the right even to take the
lives of their serfs.
Amid these confused discussions and much anxious expectation half-past nine o'clock had come, and yet no decision
had been formed. The battalion of city militia which was
posted before the City Hall had been relieved by another
battalion, which, however, was said to be by no means as
reliable as the other. A few voices in the ranks had already
been heard to say that it was ridiculous to stand there for
nothing, and to let the pitch from the big brasiers drop upon
their clothes.  If the republicans were really to set the
whole town on fire, it would be better to go home and to
look after their families. It was in vain that the officers
tried to quiet the men, in vain even that the chief burgomaster, Doctor Dasch, addressed them from the top of the great
staircase before the City Hall. His pathetic question:
" Are we not all children of the same town?" had been
answered by a coarse voice with the words: "Yes indeed,
some with roast beef and some without! " and another:
"Three cheers for fat Doctor Dasch, and three more for ourselves! "-a cry which had been unanimously taken up by
people and soldiers alike. At last they had promised to




Io4            The House of Rohens/ein.
wait half an hour longer; after that, if " nothing happened,"
they must go home.
The chief burgomaster returned to the council-room perspiring and breathless. He ordered the doors to be closed,
requested the gentlemen to listen to him a few moments,
and said, when all had taken their seats at the green table,
in a low whisper, as if he feared his words might be heard
outside through the huge walls and thick doors:
" Gentlemen! the decisive moment has come. I cannot
doubt that any longer after what I have just seen and heard.
A fanatical populace tyrannizes over the well-disposed; the
militia threatens to desert us; we can rely no longer on any
one except ourselves and the glorious army, the last support
of the throne, the altar, and the hearth. The commandant
of the city, Count Hinkel-Gackel, has this moment placed
once more all of the regular troops at my disposal. I think
I have acted in accordance with your views, gentlemen, in
sending him word that I would avail myself of his offer if
in half an hour the threatening clouds which now darken the
horizon are not dispersed. Gentlemen, I know that under
such trying circumstances a voluntary delay of this extent is
a self-denial amounting almost to heroism; but, gentlemen, I
believe that for the sake of your own dignity, our honor, and
in remembrance of certain events in our city which are still
fresh in our memories, we ought to avoid a conflict between
the populace and the soldiers as long as it is at all compatible
with the general welfare. I know, gentlemen, that I assume
an immense responsibility. I know that this half hour may
become of the utmost importance to many excellent men,
may become fatal to many of us, and especially to me, whom
the lightning from the dark clouds may strike down at any moment. But when the tempest breaks forth, it will find us all
at our post. Is it not so, gentlemen? You will not abandon
your chief burgomaster?"
Mr. Sebaldus Dasch had spoken these last words with
almost broken voice. He was deeply moved, and had to
pause a moment to wipe the perspiration from his-forehead.
It was a solemn moment, when all the gentlemen present
rose from their chairs and thus made known to him that
they were determined to live or to die with their heroic
chief.




The HIouse of Hothezstein.        105
"But," continued Mr. Sebaldus Dasch, after the low
murmur of applause had passed away under the vaulted
ceiling of the hall, " although we may be prepared to risk
our lives in the good cause and to pledge our fortunes for
its success, we are yet bound to secure the property of the
city against a populace eager to rob and to plunder. Above
all, the six hundred thousand dollars in city obligations,
which, as you gentlemen know, have not yet been emitted
for reasons of expediency, and which are safely stowed away
upstairs in the City Treasury-how easily it may happen
that this circumstance has come to the knowledge of one of
the leaders of the riot!-that"-here Mr. Dasch pointed
at the door and whispered in a mere breath-" that treason
may lurk at that door! Are we quite sure of all our
clerks, our messengers and pages? Have we any right to
rely implicitly on their attachment, on their gratitude? No,
gentlemen, do not let us close our eyes to the dangers of
our situation! We are isolated; we. can only rely on ourselves. Therefore, hear what I propose! The obligations
and all other valuable papers must not remain at a place
which is known to so many. We must try to conceal them
somewhere else; and thanks to my special intimacy with all
the localities and secret recesses of the building, I have
been able to discover a hiding-place which would defy the
ingenuity of the most expert thief. But for reasons which
I need not explain, it would be inexpedient for the Council
to assist in the transportation of the treasure in a body. I
propose, therefore, the appointment of a committee, consisting of myself and another member of your body, to take
the place of the treasurer, who is unfortunately absent on
account of sickness."
" I nominate for that purpose my esteemed colleague and
friend, Baron Hohenstein, to whom we are all indebted for
the invaluable services which he has to-day rendered the
commonwealth," squeaked the owner of the large machineshop, Alderman Heydman.
Again a low murmur of applause was re-echoed from the
vaulted ceiling. The chief burgomaster rose, and with him
the other fathers of the city.
"I thank you, gentlemen," said Mr. Sebaldus Dasch,
"with all my heart, for the cool calmness and admirable pres5*




0o6           The House of Hohenstein.
ence of mind which you have exhibited at so critical a
moment, and I request my much valued friend and colleague,
Alderman Baron Hohenstein, to accept his unanimous election for that important trust."
Baron Hohenstein said: " My head and my arm belong
to the city," and he placed his hand on his heart and
bowed gracefully.
When the chief burgomaster and Baron Hohenstein had
left the council-room, some one remarked that when Mr.
Heydman had mentioned Hohenstein's name, the latter had
turned deadly pale, and that his hand had shaken most
nervously when he had seized a candlestick to accompany
Mr. Dasch; an assertion which Mr. Heydman and others
contradicted positively. He observed that Baron Hohenstein had on the contrary shown to-day most signally how
well the alderman had preserved the courage of the nobleman and the officer.
The chief burgomaster and Hohenstein had in the meantime walked down a long, narrow passage, till at the end they
reached a back-staircase leading to the upper story of the
City Hall, then again down a long passage to a door which,
besides the usual contrivances, had two crossbars with very
complicated locks. Through this door, which they carefully
locked again from the inside, they entered into the recordroom, and proceeded from this to a musty, melancholy-looking room, the windows of which were provided with strong
iron bars, in honor of several iron boxes and safes which
constituted its entire furniture.  This room was the City
Treasury.
" Uff!" said Dr. Dasch, after having closed the heavy
door again; " this heat will kill me!"
" I am rather chilly," said Baron Hohenstein; " it seems
to me, it is very cold here."
"It is very damp," said Dr. Dasch; "we shall catch our
death yet on account of these rascally democrats. Let us
go to work, my dear colleague. The city obligations are in
that big box; they are most important. The other certificates can be advertised, but who can protect us against our
own local currency, if that is once in circulation among the
people? I think, therefore, my dear colleague, we had better
put the six hundred thousand first in safety. They are in a




The House of Hohenstein.         107
sheet-iron box in that big box. Pray let me do it! Uff!
You see, that is the box. And now please take out that
smaller one, also. That contains the first four hundred
thousand. It is possible we may not be able to get the big
box into the secret place which I have found, and then we
must take the money out. This little key fits both the boxes."
Baron Hohenstein took the two boxes that had been
pointed out to him. As he turned round, the heavy lid of
the big box closed with a loud noise. Baron Hohenstein
started and uttered a low cry.
" I hope you were not hurt," asked the burgomaster, anxiously.
" No," replied the alderman. "I do not know; my nerves
are out of order to-day. The day has been trying, and then
my wife's illness — "
"Let us get out of this hole," said the other; "I begin
to feel chilly too. I will show you the place I had in my
mind."
They left the treasury and went rapidly back, so as to
avoid meeting anybody through the same passage, till they
came to another door, which the burgomaster, who now
carried the candlestick, unlocked himself.
" This is my private office, as you see," he said. "I think
the rascals will be too cunning to suppose I would hide our
treasures in my own room; they will rather look for them in
every cellar and garret. You see, here is the cupboard, a
simple cupboard, which nobody but myself, I think, has
ever noticed. I have discovered it accidentally, and use it,
as you see, to keep a few bottles of wine on hand. Pray
put the bottles on the upper shelf, and then help me to push
the box in here."
But the box would not be pushed into the small space.
They tried it in every way, but it could not be done.
"I thought so," said the burgomaster, distressed.
"We must look for another hiding-place," replied Hohenstein.
"I know of no other, and time is precious. We will take
them out; that is the best we can.do; here is the key; I always carry it with me. Let us see if the other box goes in.
Excellent! Now quick, ta.ke it down again; we must not lose
a moment,"




Io8           The House of Hohenstein.
Mr. Dasch opened the full box. There they were in nice
packages; dozens and dozens of hundred-dollar parcels in
one and five-dollar notes, and dozens and dozens of thousand-dollar parcels in fifty and hundred-dollar notes.
"I will hand them to you," said the chief burgomaster 
"and you pile the stuff up in the smaller box. What a heartbreaking job that would be for a poor man. God be thanked
that we are both of us well to do. What is the matter with
you?"
"Oh nothing," said Baron Hohenstein, sitting down on a
chair and wiping the cold perspiration from his brow; " my
nerves are somewhat affected, it will pass in a moment."
" Take a glass of this port-wine," said the chief burgomaster, taking one of the bottles down from the shelf; "it will
do you good."
Baron Hohenstein poured with trembling hand some of
it into a tumbler that stood on the table by the side of the
water carafe, and emptied it at once.
"How do you feel now?" asked Dr. Dasch.
"Better," replied Hohenstein.
"Then let us make haste to finish."
At that moment loud cries were heard from the public
square, upon which the windows of the room looked.
"What is that?" said the chief burgomaster, and in his
fright he dropped the packages which he was holding in his
hand.
The two men hastened to the window. The bright moonlight and the flames of the huge pitch-pans before the building allowed everything to be seen very clearly. From one of
the streets that opened on the square, a black column of men
was slowly coming forward in the direction of the City Hall.
The crowd that had for some time filled the square, swayed
to and fro, mostly to meet the new-comers, cheering, whistling, yelling. Through the tumult the command of the fat
militia major was heard: " Carry arms! Carry arms!" but it
could be seen that very few of the men obeyed orders.
The chief burgomaster trembled in all his limbs.
"We are lost!" he groaned; "what shall we do?"
"Hasten down, my dear sir," replied Baron Hohenstein,
promptly; "your presence is absolutely necessary there.
Offer the rioters a compromise; promise them arms, any



The House of Hohenstein.         I09
thing, until you can obtain troops. But hasten, 1 pray you,
or you will find everything ruined. I will follow as soon as I
have done here."
" Had not you better go in my place! " stammered the
other, piteously.
"But, dear doctor, am I chief burgomaster? " said Baron
Hohenstein.
"You are right! I am going; I must go; I must do my
duty! But come as soon as possible."
"As soon as I can," replied Hohenstein, almost pushing
the chicken-hearted colossus out of the door.
The door closed behind the chief burgomaster, and Baron
Hohenstein hastily pushed the latch across. Then he rushed
to the table, where the wine was, filled the tumbler once
more to the brim, and drank eagerly, till it was empty. He
put the glass on the table and looked with burning eyes all
around. Then he raised both his hands, ice-cold as they
were, to his hot brow, and then he laughed aloud.
Was it not laughable?  He, overwhelmed with debts,
scarcely able to keep his head above water, threatened with
instant ruin-he here handling treasures of which the twentieth part would save him from all his troubles; he had only
to-day been considering-and how often he had done so in
the last ten years!-whether it would not be best to blow
out his brains; but it was time enough for that when the
theft should be discovered. Theft! Oh no! not theft! only
a useful employment of money which lay here unemployed,
idle; and then he would of course replace it. One or the
other speculation was sure to succeed; and then his uncle at
Rheinfeld, who seemed to be perfectly crazy about his boy,
and who would surely not let the boy's father be sent to the
penitentiary; and then the treasurer who managed the city
finances was sickly, and timid too; he had long since mentioned that he was not the man for this office in such dangerous times, and that he would resign his place. It was in
the highest degree probable that he who had made himself
so useful in these days wouHd be appointed his successor,
and then he could easily make good the deficit in the treasury; or should he take the six hundred thousand dollars as
they were, and try to escape? He could no doubt do it easily
to-night. He could sell the notes in London for half their




xIo            The House of Hohenstein.
value, or even less, and take a steamer to America with the
proceeds, and his wife, who, when his restlessness had driven
him out of the house this afternoon, had taken his hands so
anxiously, and his son, whom he expected back this evening,
and who would be at his house when he came home. But
what he did, he did for his wife and his boy, not for himself.
He was not afraid of death! He had stood more than once
at the mouth of a pistol in the hands of an adversary, and
day after to-morrow a note of ten thousand dollars had to
be paid: ten little packages of the pile before him, so small
that he can easily put them in a side-pocket of his coat; but
it is too late; you have delayed too long.
Baron Hohenstein looked at the clock that was hanging
opposite on the wall, and upon which his glance had accidentally fallen when he put the empty bottle back on the
table. It had pointed at ten o'clock; it still pointed at
ten! It must have stopped! No, the pendulum was still
swinging to and fro, and the great clock in the tower above
him began just to strike. The whole world of his madly
confused thoughts had been crowded into the narrow space
of a single moment.
It was time yet!-There! Were those steps coming up
the passage? Nearer, nearer, quite near-now or never!
Va banque / what is it, after all? Life and honor on a cast
of the die...
A noise at the door.
" What is it?"
"Oh, baron!"
"Who is that?"
"I! Council-Messenger Wenzel! The chief burgomaster
begs you will come at once! "
"Directly!"
The box of sheet-iron stands, locked, in the cupboard;
the false door closes the aperture so accurately, when he
turns back again he can hardly discover it himself.  He
draws a long breath. He- buttons his light over-coat close
across his chest, and the next moment it occurs to him that
that might create suspicion, so he unbuttons it again. He
opens the door, the candlestick in his hand. The old messenger Wenzel exclaims: "Great God, sir! you look like a
corpse!"




The House of Hohenstein.          11 
"I was very unwell in there, my dear Wenzel; but now I
am better. Please take the candle and show me the way.
How are they all at home, dear Wenzel?"
"Much obliged, alderman, very well! " replies the messenger, very curious to know how the great alderman comes
to ask such a question just now.
"Rather tight, I suppose; the pay is not always sufficient."
"Well, baron, we must make it do," said the messenger,
utterly unable to see how the great man can think of such
matters at this moment, and ascribing it, in his mind, to his
indisposition.
" Will you take my arm to rest upon, sir?" he asked, turning back.
" Thank you, thank you," answers Baron Hohenstein, who
had buttoned the last button on his paletot at the very moment, when Wenzel turns round, and now tears them all
open again.
The old man says nothing more, but walks faster; he feels
uncomfortable with the odd speeches and the strange manner of the sick alderman.
They are in the second story, in the large hall before the
council-room.  The chief burgomaster and several other
members are just' coming out; others are standing in the
large, semi-circular bay window, above the great front entrance, from whence they can see more plainly what is going
on below in the square, than from the council-room.  The
chief burgomaster walks up to Hohenstein and draws him
aside. His face is radiant with joy.
"I believe we have had our trouble for nothing, dear colleague; the rabble is scattering to the four winds since
Munzer has spoken to them. Where is the key to the strong
box and to the cupboard?"
" Here, and here."
"Thanks, thanks! I suppose I can let the whole box, as
it stands, be carried back again into the Treasury."
"Certainly, certainly! The only difference is, that the
money is now in the little box instead of the big box."
" A thousand thanks, my very dear colleague."
And the chief burgomaster in his enthusiasm embraced
Baron Hohenstein repeatedly.  Other gentlemen, among




I I2           ]he House of Hohenstein.
them the owner of the great machine-shops, Mr. Heydman
& Co., also come up with their congratulations and expressions of gratitude; they all shake hands with him, and call
him the hero of the day, who has saved the city.
Baron Hohenstein declines these honors almost vehemently.
" I thank you, gentlemen," he said; " I have only done my
duty. Excuse me, gentlemen, I am quite unwell, and should
like to ask leave to go home to my sick wife."
"A carriage for Baron Hohenstein!-a carriage!"
"I should prefer walking; the night air will do me good.
Good night! good night, gentlemen! "
Baron Hohenstein pushed his way through the crowd like
a man who fears he will faint if he does not promptly reach
the fresh air.
" I said so! " remarked one of the aldermen; " he looked
pale and haggard when he went upstairs with the chief
burgomaster."
"No wonder!" observed another; "he has worked tremendously to-day, and his wife is sick at home."
"And to-morrow, the last day of the month," whispered
Mr. Coldblood, a lawyer and deputy alderman; "I wonder
how he'll pay his notes?"
" Gentlemen! " said the chief burgomaster, "I am sure I
cannot foresee the future, and I do not know what the next
day may bring us, but I think we may congratulate ourselves
upon having saved the city this time by our calmness and
presence of mind from the threatened ruin, and without
bloodshed."
— o —
CHAPTER XV.
T    HE danger to which the town was said to have been
exposed, was in reality not half as great as it had
appeared to the members of the City Council through
the magnifying glass of their fears; or rather, to tell the
truth, there had been no danger at all. As Doctor Holm
had predicted, the great meeting at Roman Hall, instead of




The House of oahenstein.         1 3
being attended by six thousand, upon whom Doctor Munzer and Peter Schmitz had counted, had consisted of scarcely
as many hundred, and even among these six hundred very
few had been in favor of desperate measures. The address
of Baron Hohenstein at the different large factories had
made a great impression upon the workmen. They had
either stayed away from the meeting, or at least shown very
little zeal for the common cause. They stated quite openly
that they could not see any use in having arms distributed
among the people, as long as wages were not increased, and
the working time was not reduced. If they were now to
stand guard in addition, and to patrol the city, their wives
and children would starve soon enough.  It was in vain
that Doctor Munzer, Peter Schmitz, and finally also Doctor
Holm exhausted their eloquence to prove to them that they
were putting the question upside down; that in politics and
public life power was the first, and justice only the second
question, and that all the rights they might extort from their
oppressors in a moment of anxiety, would instantly be revoked as soon as they regained the power in their hand. There
seemed to be a spell on the meeting; they would not warm
up; and Munzer, who had been called upon to preside, was
prudent enough not to push his resolutions,-which the small
number of people assembled at the Roman Hall were in all
probability unwilling to adopt. Nevertheless he did what
he could to prolong the meeting, in order to conceal under
the darkness of night the miserable failure of his great enterprise, which he had announced in such pompous words.
At last they resolved to move in columns from the Roman
Hall to the great square before the City Hall, and there in
the face of the assembled militia to break up with three
cheers for Liberty. A few Hotspurs in the assemblyamong them especially the locksmith Christopher Unkelgrumbled aloud against such an insignificant demonstration;
but they were outvoted, and at half-past nine o'clock the
march began: at the head the presiding officers of the
meeting, Munzer, Peter Schmitz, Holm (resting on the powerful arm of Christopher), and others, all of them singing the
Schleswig-Holstein hymn.
Before the City Hall Munzer addressed the people, thanking them for the confidence with which they had honored




II4           The House of UJohenstein.
him, and declaring that they must strictly adhere to the resolutions which they had passed.
"We have," he said, and his powerful voice sounded far
over the crowded square, "we have resolved to-night to
show our adversaries, by our self-denial and by our moderation, that it is only their bad conscience which prevents
them from admitting us to their ranks. They may doubt
the prudence of this step, but they will have to acknowledge
the generosity which has prompted it. We mean to be
strong in our weakness, we mean to profit by our abstinence,
and to conquer without a battle. Let our adversaries learn
from our example! May they never forget that possession
is not always the same as right, and that unrighteous possession is like a sword eaten by rust. Let this rust go on and
corrode their swords! It does its work slowly, by centuries,
by thousands of years; and our life is, when it lasts longest,
seventy or eighty years. But the people live forever; the
people can wait; long life to a generous, noble, undying
people! And herewith I dissolve this meeting; let each
one go home quietly; it is time to retire, and our adversaries
must not say that we have neglected even the least of the
duties of a good citizen!"
"Three cheers for Doctor Munzer! Hip, hip, hurrah!"
The hundreds and perhaps thousands who had listened
to Doctor Munzer's speech, dispersed noisily hither and
thither.
" It seems to me, Doctor Munzer, you spoke ironically
about the people," said Doctor Holm, who was still standing near the speaker, with Peter Schmitz and a few others.
" And had I not a fair right to do so? " asked Munzer,
savagely.. "Is that a people? A flock of sheep they are!
Nothing else! Let somebody else drive them now! I am
tired of it! "
He drew his slouched hat over his face and hastened
with long strides away from his friends, into the dark night.
Dark dismay was brooding over his soul. He had been
compelled to-night to do himself great violence before this
crowd of blind and stupid people; and now, when he found
himself alone, fierce wrath and indignation broke like. a
stream of hot lava from his proud heart. In savage words,
of which every now and then one would break through his




The House of Hohenstein.          II5
firmly-compressed teeth, he rebuked the people as a father
rebukes his misguided sons, of whom in his partiality he
hoped such great things. He repeated to himself, with bitter irony and loud laughter, Goethe's words about those
"who foolish enough did not guard their full heart, and
showed to the people their innermost part," and vowed solemnly, "from henceforth to leave the Sisyphus work of
guiding a people to those who had not yet found out that
the stone will sink to the bottom."
Thus he rushed through the darkness, without minding
the crowd of people, who were still surging up and down the
streets. He did not think of going home. His soul was
yearning for liberty, as the hart panteth after the waterbrooks; his head was nearly bursting with volcanic passions,
and he longed to reach some Alpine height, to let his vexed
soul expand once more in the sight of a boundless horizon, of
something greater than this earth. What should he do at
home? Return to the narrow, oppressive walls of his plain,
unattractive house?-answer a thousand questions about
the events of the evening, which he wished to forget as soon
as he could?-afflict his wife by his bad temper and his violence? or see the children sleeping quietly in their little
beds? The children! why were they born, born into a life
which was to give them so little joy, so little satisfaction?
To be sure, they did not seem to have their father's passionate soul; they showed, every one of them, an unmistakable
resemblance to their mother in her quiet, submissive disposition-but even so! why were they born? what is the use
or the meaning of a life which glides along like the peaceful
brook meandering through rich pasture-lands? A lifewell, a life like Clara's. And why was this gentle, peaceful,
modest woman given to him, the wild, dissatisfied, restless
man? And if she had only been happy! but she was not
happy. Did she not always feel in her heart that she was
not a suitable companion for her husband, not such a wife
as he needed in his incessant struggles and conflicts? Had
not this consciousness, like a hidden poison, broken her
youthful vigor before the time? Could not every one read
it distinctly in the painful expression that played around her
lips, and in the downcast look of her eyes when she thought
she was unobserved? Did she not rise with it in the morn



i 6           The House of Hohzenstein.
ing, and lie down with it at night? Could he anticipate,
when she, at eighteen years old, attracted him irresistibly, that
the whirlpool of political agitation would so soon seize him
and hurl him into fearful regions below, to which she, with
her gentle heart, could not follow him? And ought he, for
that reason, to gain the shore in safety, and from the snug harbor of domestic happiness look complacently at the labors,
the struggles, and the dangers of his companions? Never!
The man who feels within himself that he is called upon to
work for great causes and to accomplish great things, has no
right to shut himself up in the narrow cell of every-day life.
The man who devotes his life to the people, cannot mind
every cloud on his wife's brow. Not the happiness of his
home, but the welfare of the State is his great task, and he
must not seek his reward in the sweet smiles and the pleasing words of his wife, but in the applause of thousands, with
which a grateful people accompanies its tribune on his way
from the forum to the senate-a grateful people! These
stupid, brutal fellows, who know not how to act like men,
but only how to hoot and yell like boys! Yes indeed, indeed! Cry on! smash windows! and lie down at last with
the happy conviction that you have accomplished heroic
deeds; and when you awake in the morning with feelings of
bitter repentance and a sense of your own wretchedness, you
will return all the more patiently to the yoke!
Munzer had come-he did not know how, or why-into a
street which was generally distinguished by its haughty, unbusiness-like quiet, but which to-night, like the side streets,
was filled with crowds of noisy, half-drunk people. One of
these crowds, which had probably originally consisted only
of a few persons, but was now momentarily increasing with
great rapidity, was whistling, yelling, and crying before a
house, from which, through the partially open windows of
the upper story, the dazzling light of many candles was falling upon the dark street. In the centre of the house a large
glass door opened upon a balcony, supported by two elegantly carved pillars;.and near the open door a piano seemed to
stand, on which two admirably-trained hands performed a
series of mad fortissimos and reckless capricios in unceasing exuberance. The louder and the more threatening the
voices became below, the mightier and the more majestically




The House of Hohenstein.          II7
the notes sounded on the superb instrument upstairs; and
whenever there was a pause in the swearing and cursing below, teasing trills of provoking runs were heard above, as
if a playful Ariel was mocking the rage of a Caliban.
Thus, at least, this strange concert appeared to the passionately excited man, who was now standing opposite the
house, leaning against a garden wall. His sympathy was
excited in a peculiar manner. He had often remarked the
house in his wanderings through the city, for it differed very
strikingly in its elegant form from the adjoining buildings;
and his fancy, always over active, had climbed with the.creepers up the pillars of the balcony, had looked from the
flowers there into aristocratic, quiet apartments, and had seen
there beautiful forms, such as poets celebrate in graceful
songs. He had purposely abstained from asking who owned
the house, for he did not wish to have his illusions destroyed
by learning perhaps that such and such a banker, or such
and such a rich idler, was there resting on swelling divans,
from the hard work of cutting off his coupons from countless
bonds.
But the fingers which were now laughing and jesting on
the keys of the piano did not belong to a hand accustomed
to count out dirty money; the person who could thus dare
to defy the continually increasing wrath of an excited mob,
was at least no ordinary being, and Munzer's knowledge of
the human heart told him that only a woman was capable of
such boldness in carrying out a caprice.
" Shall we allow ourselves to be fooled by these aristocrats? " said a coarse, deep voice, quite near him.
" We'll show them who we are! " cried another.
" These overbearing people burn more candles in one evening than we can afford to have all the year round," screamed
a female voice.
" Smash their windows! We'll make some music now!
Smash the windows!" cried the enraged people; and between the cries the roulades were heard, and the playful trjlls
more and more defying and irritating, as if the menacing
voices of the rabble were the enthusiastic bravos of an electrified audience.
Suddenly a stone broke a pane, and instantly the music
ceased; a tall, womanly form, in a dark, flowing dress, ap




II8            The House of Hohenstein.
peared in the open glass door of the balcony, and remained
standing there a few moments, perfectly calm, her arms
folded over her bosom, as if she wished to let the riotous
people below see at full leisure that they had to do with a
lady.  Then the figure disappeared again, and a moment
after the runs began anew, and the trills danced more provokingly than ever.
This boldness, so far from checking the people, only fanned
their wrath into a bright blaze.
"Hang the impudent aristocrat! Smash her windows,
that the splinters fly around her head! Pull down the
house!"
In an instant Munzer was across the street and on the
uppermost step of the flight which led to the front door.
For a moment he stood there, his hand on the door-knob,
uncertain whether he should enter or not; but another glance
at the crowd, which became more and more enraged, and
he opened the door, which the servants, from cowardice or
from confusion, had left unlocked, entered the house, hurried
past several trembling figures in livery, up the soft carpeted
staircase to the hall in the upper story, and opened a door,
following the sound of the piano, which was still singing and
trilling merrily.
A dazzling brightness of countless wax-candles on lustres
and candelabras met him as he entered, almost too brilliant
for him who came directly from the dim light of the street
below. The sole occupant of the large, splendid apartment
was the lady whom he had seen at the window. She sat,
with her back to the door, still at the piano, and did not
turn to the intruder, whose steps on the thick carpet she
had probably not heard, as she was just then in the midst
of a superb fortissimo, which her tapering, powerful fingers
seemed to compel the piano to utter. The noise from below was at least equally deafening. The next moment Munzer was by her side, and now she raised her face towards
hin. Her hands remained listlessly on the keys; her large,
brilliant brown eyes looked with astonishment rather than
with fright at the noble pale face, surrounded by dark hair
and beard, which suddenly, like a phantom, stared at her
with a cry of terror and admiration strangely mixed.
But before she could open her lips to a single question,




The House of Hohenstein.          I19
Munzer had seized her beautiful hands, drawn her half by
force from her seat at the piano, and led her further back
into the room.
" Pardon me, madam! " he said, and his deep low voice
trembled with excitement; " you are in much greater danger
than you seem to think. Permit me, I pray, to say a few
words to.the rioters below from that balcony. I know no
other way to save you! "
Without waiting for her answer, he turned from her, passed
through the room, and stepped out on the balcony. It was
high time. The rioters had armed themselves with bricks
from a new building near by, and a coarse voice cried out:
" All at once! One, two — 
" Stop!" cried Munzer, extending his right arm with a
gesture of command. "Stop!"
The unexpected appearance of the great man and his
powerful voice made an impression on the crowd. They
stood, with the bricks ready to be launched at the house, but
not one dared to throw. Munzer did not give them time to
recover from their astonishment.
"Are you free men?" he asked, "or are you liberated
slaves, that you waste your strength uselessly in wanton rage
and mad destruction? Are you strong only where you meet
with no opposition? Is that your liberty, that you will not
allow a man to live as he likes and as he may, if he does no
harm to any one among you? Well! take your satisfaction; throw your bricks into a peaceful house! But I shall
not leave this place, and if every one of you were to aim at
me-at me alone! " The men below looked at each other in
consternation, and let the raised arms drop. There were
many among them who knew Munzer personally, and who
had heard his words this very evening in the assembly.
"That is Doctor Munzer! " it was whispered in the crowd;
" a brave man-what Doctor Munzer says is so-he is the
friend of the people. Three cheers for Doctor Munzer!
Hurrah! and once more, hurrah! "
The fickle multitude joined merrily in the cry which had
been raised only by a few men. The people evidently
wanted nothing but a pretext for making a noise, and few
of them cared whether they shouted for a man or against
him, with a purpose or without one.




120           The House of Hohenstein.
"I thank you! " said Munzer, with thinly-veiled irony;
"but now do me the favor and go quietly home, everybody
to his house. To-morrow is another day, and for to-day we
have done enough and more than enough. Good-night! "
He beckoned with the hand, stepped back, closed the
glass door, while the rabble outside cried: "Hurrah for
Doctor Munzer! Hurrah! and once more hurrah!" and
obeying his direction, and perhaps also tired of the noise,
they threw away the bricks and moved down the street,
some quietly and some shouting noisily.
-0
CHAPTER XVI.
W    HEN Munzer turned around, the lady was standing
in the middle of the room. The bright light of the
candles in the lustre fell upon her from the glossy
black hair to the hem of her robe, which flowed in heavy
folds from her slender waist far out on the rich carpet of
the room. Munzer had been too excited before, to see more
than that she was beautiful; he saw only now how very
beautiful she was. To his experienced eye she looked perfect. He gazed at her as if intoxicated, as if blinded: at
the glorious head, surrounded by soft curls in ambrosial
fulness-at those large brown eyes, glancing forth gently
and yet also boldly, with bewitching power, from under the
dark lashes-at these features so pure and so delicate, as
if formed by an artist's hand-and above all at those lips,
those silent and yet eloquent lips, luscious, love breathing,
and love inspiring. And like a flash of heavenly lightning,
it fell upon the proud man, whose life had been tortured by
his longing for the beautiful; and he felt, "This is the
woman that is worthy of you; here you see the image that
was silently floating through your dreams with veiled face,
making your heart tremble with voluptuous anticipations;
here she is in dazzling reality, glowing with life!" Was a
similar revelation going on in the heart of the beautiful
woman? Did the tall gloomy man with the proud, thought



The House of Hohenstein.         121
ful brow, above which the dark hair rose in defiant locks
like a lion's mane, with the sorrowing eyes that were now
flashing in fierce passion, did he look to her also like an
embodiment of her ideal? It must have been so, for in her
eyes also a fire shone-a fire sweet and terrifying like the
frigid, bewitching glance of Medusa.
Thus they gazed at each other for a few seconds-a few
fatal seconds.
All at once the beautiful woman laughed out loud, and
said with a voice, the melodious sounds of which vibrated
to Munzer's innermost soul: "Well, by heavens! this is
strange! Here I sit awaiting my company, who apparently
dare not leave their houses, and instead of my friends, whom
I can spare, chance sends me a stranger, who suddenly enters, uninvited, like the marble statue in Don Giovanni, and
as an introduction, prohibits my practice on the piano!"
" Which you may now resume, madam," replied Munzer;
" I thought I was rendering you a service. Pardon me if in
so doing I had to take the liberty of interrupting you."
He was going to pass her with a bow, and to leave the
room. She quickly stepped back and thus stopped him:
" One moment, sir! Give me time at least to thank you
for the service you have done me! No, no! You must
accept my thanks.  Now that my mad caprice no longer
possesses me, I see very well that I once more exposed myself uselessly to great danger, and that even though I might
not exactly have perished in it, I might yet have fared very
badly. Did not the sweet rabble throw their cards nearly at
my head?"
She touched contemptuously with the point of her foot a
piece of a brick, which lay in the middle of the room. Then
she laughed again with her low, melodious laugh, and
said:
" No! This meeting is too strange! I believe I ought to
let my marble guest depart again without asking his name,
so that the odd finale should not lose its romance of secrecy;
but we will not be romantic to-night, but for once show practical common sense; and as there is no one present to introduce us formally, we may as well perform the ceremony
without a priest. My name is Antonia."
"And mine Bernhard," said Munzer, smiling.
6




I122           The House oueof Houzstein.
"But I thought the people below called another name.
Was it not Doctor Munzer? "
"Yes, but as you only mentioned your first name, I
thought you did not attach any importance to the other."
" Oh! " said the lady; "with you men the name you receive at your birth has some importance; it is not so with
us. What is the value of such a name, which they put upon
us as a label is put on a bottle of wine, and which may be exchanged again for another, as the occasion offers? I only
value the name by which I like to be called by those people
who love me; the other name is perfectly indifferent. But
if you wish to know it, it is Hohenstein: Baroness Antonia
Hohenstein. Well, now the ceremony is performed, and as
we are now regularly appointed acquaintances, we will assume that you alone of all my invited guests have come, and
not trouble ourselves any further about the others who did
not come. No, no objections, Doctor Bernhard Munzer! I
admit no objections, least of all on the part of new acquaintances, who have to be trained at once to learn obedience.
Put down that unlucky hat of yours, which you have worried
out of all shape these five minutes! You are my guest, and
a guest of too much delicacy, I am sure, to deny what I say
before my own servants! "
She went, without waiting for Munzer's answer, to the bellrope, rang the bell, and without looking at the servant who
entered, ordered,
" Supper in the small supper-room for two! Be quick!
Tell me when you are ready! "
" Yes, ma'am!" said the servant, leaving the room with a
look of astonishment at Munzer.
"Well, now come," said Antonia; "put your hat down
there! Good! Sit down in this arm-chair, or I shall never
feel quite sure that you are really my guest. I will play
something for you, if it can be done, for I think some of
the strings must have broken."
She sat down again before the piano, while Munzer, in a
state of confusion which almost deprived him of a will of
his own, sank into the soft easy-chair. Her slender fingers
ran up and down the key-board in a few brilliant runs.
" All right! " she cried; "now listen! "
She sounded a few full, powerful chords.  Then she




7ze House Cf HocZ/znstein.        123
wrought, out of tones which seemed to float through each
other like drifting mists, a, melody of a gloomy, melancholy
character, full of earnest longing. Her improvisation followed the sensations which this air called forth, to the
furthest distance, and yet ever returned to the original
theme, which seemed to be in its yearning as unfathomable
as the human heart.
Munzer listened with sweet shudders. He felt as if his
soul was wandering in those regions which he knew to be its
true home, but from which hard, pitiless, weary work had
removed him further and further the older he grew. The
sweet, magic land of romance opened before him with all its
unspeakable, irresistible charms. He forgot where he was.
He did not even see the beautiful woman on whose face his
eye was fixed; he wandered about in cool forest shade,
while female forms were silently hovering around him like
delightful dream images, and smiled at him with their gentle,
melancholy eyes, bewitching his senses.  He heard the
weaving and rushing of elementary powers; he felt as if his
whole being was dissolved in forest peace and forest fragrance-as if he must exhale his soul in a kiss on the
deadly fair lips of the Undine.
Then he heard, first from a far distance, and gradually
nearer and nearer, a voice singing, luring and refreshing, like
the sheen of the moon and the brightness of stars.
The voice paused; the last notes of the piano lost themselves trembling in the air. With a cry Munzer started
up.
" Great God, what is the matter? " asked Antonia, rising
suddenly.
But Munzer gave no answer. With long strides, pressing
his hand on his heart, he walked to the further end of the
room; then he turned again and went up to Antonia.
" What is the matter? " she exclaimed once more. "You
look deadly pale; are you unwell? "
Munzer stopped before her, and looked at her with sombre
eyes, glowing with wild passion. Then he passed his hand
over his brow, like a man awaking from a dream, and said,
breathing hard, and in a strange, far-off voice:
"Pardon me, madam! When you ended your song-you
were singing a song, were you not?-I suddenly felt a sharp




124           The House of HIohenstein.
pang just here in my heart. Now, it is all right again.
Once more, I crave your pardon i"
"What is there to pardon?" said Antonia, with a subtle
smile; "except perhaps that you did not hear my favorite
ballad.'You were singing a song, were you not?'that is perfectly charming! You are indeed the marble
guest, and I shall begin in good earnest to be afraid of you.
I am thankful that my good Jean is just coming there to tell
us that supper is ready. Everything ready? Very well!
You can go! One thing more, Jean; set matters right here;
and when you have done, put out the lights. You need not
come till I ring."
She put her hand lightly on Munzer's arm and led him
through a second room, in which also the candles were burning in the chandelier and before the pier-glasses, into a
third apartment, which did not look upon the street. It was,
therefore, somewhat less ornate, but all the more cozy,
warmer and more fragrant-the very home of a lady who
had made comfort a study. Thick carpets, which deadened
the sound of the heaviest man's tread, covered the floor.
Thick curtains of dark-green damask hung before the doors
and windows. From the ceiling a lamp was suspended, the
soft light of which made the sofas and fauteuils look still
more inviting in their darked velvet, and seem to give life to
the figures in the superb large engravings after Titian and
Correggio on the walls, and to the marble statuettes on the
consoles and the mantel-piece. Immediately beneath the
lamp a round table was set, resplendent with bright silver,
delicate goblets, and sparkling crystal carafes filled with
the blood of Burgundy grapes. At this table two large easychairs were placed at no great distance from each other, and
Antonia beckoned her guest to take one of them, while she
seated herself in the other.
Munzer cast a quick glance at the charming decorations
of the room, but his eyes returned instinctively to Antonia,
who appeared to him now very different from before-less
magnificent, but all the more lovely and charming. The
whole extraordinary situation in which he found himself
of a sudden, had something of a dream, of a fairy story
about it, which captivated his passionate soul with its eager
thirst for something out of the common way. The abrupt




The House of Hohenstein.         125
change of scenes which he had experienced to-night, the
excessive mental wear and tear resulting from his efforts
during several hours in the great meeting, the struggle of
conflicting sentiments within him, and at last the sudden
contact with this fairest of women-all this put him in a
fever of excitement. And as in real fever our ideas of space
and time are apt to become morbidly confused, so that what
is great appears small to us, and what is small, great, he now
felt as if all ordinary things were assuming a strange glamour,
which made good things look bad, and bad things good,
which gave a meaning to absurdity, and rendered common
sense absurd, till at last life itself appeared but a dream, unworthy of being noticed. He declined by a mere gesture
when Antonia offered himn fruit and some biscuits, filled the
beautiful glasses with purple wine, and said:
"Your health, fair lady! Who could want earthly food at
a moment when supreme beauty is revealed to him of a sudden? Your health, fairest of ladies! and oh, that this moment were the last of my life!"
He put the glass to his lips and eagerly drank the delicious beverage. His lips were burning, his heart was burning, and the fire of the generous wine fell like oil upon a
bright blaze.
Antonia smiled as she looked upon her guest.
"Many thanks," she replied, barely touching her glass,
"and hearty returns. But why should you wish this moment to be the last of your life? On the contrary, I do not
wish so soon to lose the man who seems to me above all
others worthy of the name. Come! let me fill your glass
once more, and let us drink our long-no! not our long
friendship; for then we would be growing old and dull, and
I hate old and dull people worse than death itself! Well
then, good friendship, as long as our path in life may be on
the same road! "
" That would not be long, fair lady," replied Munzer, resting his head in his hand and gazing at Antonia with burning
eyes. "Our paths may at times cross each other, but only
to diverge at once in different directions. You do not know
who I am."
"And do not desire to know it. What matter to me
your rank or your profession? I look for the man in the




26           The IHouse of zohens'iizm.
man, and nothing more. Am I anything else but a woman,
whom you see to-day for the first time, and whom-how do I
know?-you may look upon as insane? Your name is
Munzer; very well! It seems to me I have heard your name
before-in political talk, I presume, to which I turn a deaf
ear as soon as I find out what it is. It seems to me, also,
they have called you in my presence, more than once, a republican, a rebel, a very dangerous man, who can do with
the populace as he chooses. I am convinced you are that
very monster, at whose whistling all the rats and mice come
forth from their holes and nooks; or, as they did to-night,
rush back and hide again in their nooks and holes. But
what does that mean for me? I am not a politician. I look
upon political talk as the greatest martyrdom to which a
reasonable being can be subjected. I think our aristocrats
are intolerable bores, our moneyed men repulsive, our good
simple citizens awkward and coarse and very much to be
avoided, and the sweet rabble very dirty, rude, and impudent. For which of these categories would you have me to
be interested? Men as a whole are either unintelligible to
me or contemptible in all their doings. I look for beauty, for
wit, and for intelligence, only in the individual, and heaven
knows how very rarely I find what I want! And you ought
not to deny it: that is your experience also! You may
ever so often try to persuade yourself that you really love the
men for whom you plague yourself, and whom you pretend to respect-it is not so! I know, Doctor Munzer, you
probably feel very little respect for me; you may even have
asked yourself repeatedly during the last half hour whether
you, as a man of the people, in the full consciousness of
your lofty morality, and so forth, are not, strictly speaking,
bound to despise me, the aristocrat, who minds so-called
propriety so very little-you know, not in so many words,
but something like that-and yet, and yet-now do please
look at me for once a little less savagely-ah! that's it! a
little more kindly-ah now! And yet I think you-would
not be disinclined to commit an act of great folly for me, if
I were malicious enough to ask anything of the kind of
you! "
"You may be right, madam," replied Munzer, whose
looks were held by Antonia's eyes as if by a charm; "but




The House of Hohensctin.          127
what would that prove? Do you know the old fairy tale of
the Titans, who wanted to scale the heavens in order to forget their earthly sorrows at the golden table of the Immortals with Ambrosia and Nectar and the songs of Apollo and
the Muses?   They defended themselves, those envious,
jealous gods, with their lightnings. They hurled the bold
giants back upon the earth; for this-this flat miserable earth
-is the real Tartarus, a genuine hell for a proud Titanic
heart. Well now, fair lady, we men are the miserable descendants of those glorious fathers; and of care, anxiety, sickness, the daughters of the earth; and although the resemblance has been pretty nearly effaced by this time, we still
have within us occasionally a faint remembrance of the blissful life where there is neither virtue nor vice, neither wisdom
nor folly, but nothing but pure beauty, wonderful beauty, that
charms the heart, intoxicates the senses, and lifts us up from
this earth-and that remembrance we call Love. But you see,
fairest of ladies, if that was not deemed good for the Titans,
our fathers, it is much less wholesome for us, the sons of men.
We must learn that the whole amount of happiness to be
divided out among all mankind, is very small, and that each
of us can only receive his fair share when everybody is contented with what is due to him, and does not claim more for
himself than what he grants his neighbor. This view, which
has to be carried out in deeds of humility and self-denial, we
call Justice. You say: I do not love the men for whom I
plague myself in weary, exhausting labor; and I am afraid
you are right. I do not love them; on the contrary, I feel
sometimes-I did so this very evening-as if I despised
them downright; but I can still be just to him whom I do
not esteem. But I cannot be so to you. What I feel when.1 think of you has nothing on earth to do with justice, esteem, or anything that is usually most regarded in the intercourse between man and man, and ought to be so regarded.
For when I look at you, the wild, indomitable Titan nature
awakes in me; because when I see you, when I hear the
sweet tones of your voice, I forget that I have no claim to
the supreme happiness of the gods; and thus you may be
perfectly right when you say that I might commit a great
folly for your sake-for instance, the enormous folly of loving you."




128            The House of Hohens/cin.
Antonia leaned back in her chair, and her low, melodious
laugh filled the whole room as with enchanting music. Then
she bent forward again, resting her head on both hands, so
that the slender fingers were half buried in her luxuriant
hair, and said, looking steadily at Munzer:
"Did I not say so! I knew you were the oddest man
my eyes have ever beheld. Who are you, sir, that you
remind me of those proud, gigantic mountains, throned in
solitude, around whose icy brows dark clouds are forever
gathering, while their warm bosom is wrapped in green
meadows and fragrant forests?  I think you must be a
king's son, who, driven from his throne, has in his fierce
wrath gone among the people, and now arouses the people
to rebellion against the usurper! For you are not of the
people! Men from below have not such small, aristocratic
hands, and above all, not such haughty, imperious eyes.
You ought to confess it! No one can hear us here, and I
will not betray you. Where is your kingdom? and who are
your royal parents?"
" You mock me! " replied Munzer, with a melancholy smile.
"I cannot blame you for it.  You have cause enough.
You wish to know where my kingdom is? Here, behind
this brow, between the narrow walls of this head! And
who are my royal parents?   Poor peasant people, who
wasted their sad lives under the burden of heavy baskets, in
which they carried earth up to the narrow terraces of a slate
mountain, where every two or three years they reaped a pitiful harvest of grapes. The toys they put into my aristocratic hands, were a spade and a hoe; my playmates were
half-wild goats browsing on the coarse grass of rocky
heights; my court-musicians, the falcon, who in summer
drew his wide circles in the blue air above my head, and in
winter the wolves, who howled at night around our hut as it
lay half buried in snow. My royal parents died of misery
and sorrow; and I, their only princely son, would have perished likewise of misery and hunger, if the priest in the
nearest village-the only true priest I have ever knownhad not taken pity on the poor, ragged orphan, and shared
with him his pittance of daily bread and of precious knowledge. When he had taught me all he knew, he sent me to
school here in town; and the blessing with which he dis



The House of Hohens.tin.          129
missed me, said:'I should fare well and be happy as long
as I was diligent and pious.' But it is pretty hard to remain
pious in a garret, with the wintry wind blowing through all
the cracks and crevices. One can be industrious, though,
very industrious, and thus I said good-by to piety, and gave
myself up to diligence-not from love of knowledge, but
from ambition-burning, consuming ambition-which enabled me to bear, with stoic indifference, hunger and cold, and
the scorn of my schoolmates. For they did scorn me, these
elegant children of noblemen, these well-fed sons of rich
merchants. They called me the Eifel-wolf, because I looked
so haggard and hollow-eyed, and my clothes were so ragged
and patched. And, by heavens! they were not far out of
the way, the thoughtless scoffers! I felt at times wolfish
enough in my heart. Society appeared to me often like a
big, fat, stupid flock of sheep, and I hated the flock with
grim, hungry, wolfish hatred.  I wanted to be immensely
learned, to be omniscient, in order to have in my knowledge
the power to avenge myself on men for their scoffing and
scorning. I invoked the devil a hundred times, offering him
my soul. But the devil did not come, which at last made
me think that there was probably no devil at all. But was
there really a God whom we could make responsible for the
fearful ways of men upon earth?
" And as I went on in this direction, I arrived at entirely
new and unexpected results. I said that if men are so bad
by their own will, they ought also to be able to be good by
their own will; and if that was not so, the cause must be
looked for in some secret disease, in great and general defects in our social system, for which men as a whole might
be responsible, but not the individual, who unwittingly and
unwillingly shared in the universal suffering. In passionate
souls like mine, extremes meet; and as others, in the poet's
words,'Drink hatred of men in the fulness of love,' I
drank love of humanity in the fulness of my hatred. But
my power was feeble, and my love but a shadow, for it did
not come from the heart, only from the head; because I
simply felt that we ought not to despise men on account of
their defects any more than we despise cripples and lepers
on account of their fearful afflictions. My sympathy with
men was the interest of the physician in his patient.  I
6*




130           RThe House of oahenstein.
helped and comforted where I could; I gave to the poor
all 1 could give. My heart had nothing to do with all that;
it was dead and empty within me; dead and empty!"
Munzer sighed deeply and emptied his glass. Antonia
filled it again, and then placing her hand lightly on his arm
for a moment, she said,
" Poor, poor man!"
"Yes indeed.!" said Munzer; "poor man! for who is
poorer than a lonely man? and I was lonely among all the
men around me, lonely and forsaken, like the shipwrecked
sailor on Salas y Gomez; and as that unfortunate man in his
despair yielded to his fate in quiet and patient resignation,
I also gave up all joy and happiness in life. I saw clearly
what was my task in life, and that was enough. To reconcile
men with each other, rich and poor, great and small, learned
and unlearned, and to make the common good of all what is
now the exclusive property of a few-that was my purpose.
This greatest and noblest of all works, I proposed to assume
as my own; to it I meant to devote the whole power of my
head and my heart, and without hope of reward or gratitude.
I asked for nothing more for myself than what is given to
all mankind. I asked for no especial privilege, not even the
sad right to be alone with my grief, not even the dreams of
lofty love high as the stars in heaven, which sometimes, in
silent nights, floated like the sounds of aeolian harps through
my weary and lonely soul, and intoxicated it with sweet images. I meant to have a wife and children, like everybody
else, hoping thus to be freed from the oppressive fear lest
without them the dark path in which I was wandering through
life might lead me sooner or later to insanity or to suicide."
Munzer paused. Never in his life had he spoken so
freely and unreservedly about himself, and the consciousness
of his grief overcame him with irresistible force. His heart
was heavy, like that of an innocent prisoner before his execution; his eyes burnt as if with the effort to check a flood
of tears. He looked in pain and fear at Antonia, as if comfort and help must cofme from her.
" And —you have a wife and children?" asked Antonia,
after a pause.
"I have a wife, a faithful wife, and it would have been
better for her to have died before she ever saw me. I have




The House of HIoenst/eil.        13 
children, lovely, hearty children, and it would be better they
had never been born. I have not the talent to. be happy,
but I have a perfect genius for making others wretched!"
Munzer started up and walked with long strides up and
down the room. Suddenly he paused before Antonia, who
had sunk back in her chair, covering her eyes with her hands,
and said, almost through his teeth:
"Woe to you if our paths in life should meet again and
again! Woe to you and to me! I should throw a firebrand into your life, which would seize and consume you in
spite of all the resistance you could make. And you, you
could not make me happy; you could only make me more
unhappy than I am, if that were possible. I should finish
the enchanting dream, and awaking, resume the work to
which I have devoted myself with a sacred vow; and if I
then should feel that I have no longer the strength to wield
the axe in the original forest of error-if I should feel that
the wanton desire to feast at the table of the gods had
brought me nothing but shame and disgrace, then-"
"Well then?" said Antonia, with pale lips; "speak out!
what then?"
"Then," cried Munzer, throwing himself at Antonia's feet,
and seizing both of her hands; " then I should hate you,
beautiful woman, as I had loved you with all the fire of my
heart."
Antonia had turned still paler, her breath came and went,
her features trembled, and her large brown eyes shone with
a strange fire. She drew her hand from Munzer's hands,
placed them upon his shoulders, as he still knelt before her,
and drawing him close to her, so that their lips almost
touched, she whispered:
" And if you were to hate me, proud man, and if you were
to kill me because you had loved me, because I had loved
you, I will yet love you, and you shall yet love me."
She threw her arms around his neck, and let him press his
lips on hers in a long, burning kiss.
Steps were heard on the varnished floor of the ante-room.
Antonia started; Munzer rose instantly, and looked at the
door, which opened suddenly.
" Colonel Baron Hohenstein!" said the servant, and a
slight malicious smile made his eyes twinkle. Before An



132            The House of Hohenstein.
tonia could reply a word, the colonel had already entered
the room. The malicious servant closed the door behind him.
The colonel was hardly less surprised when he saw the
well-known demagogue here, in the rooms of his sister-in-law,
than Antonia and Munzer were by his sudden appearance.
His first thought was, Munzer's presence might have some
connection with the business which brought him here; but
at once his sharp eyes noticed the peculiar expression on
their faces. Besides, he had evidently interrupted a very
pleasant tte-a-tte; and the malignant smile of the servant
who had ushered him in, and the unfortunate reputation of
unwarrantable recklessness and almost undisguised profligacy which his sister-in-law had-all this was not at once
present to the colonel's mind; but as much as he could on
the instant take in of it all, was enough to fill his revengeful
heart with mad jealousy.
" Pardon me, dearest Antonia," he said, casting a dark
glance at Munzer, "if I interrupt you. I could not come
sooner, as we had orders to remain in barracks until now.
When I left the barracks, I heard that there had been a riot
here in this street, and before your house. I hastened up
and found the front rooms all dark, but the front door not
even closed, and your Jean told me you had company upstairs. Once more I beg your pardon if you did not expect
a visit from me this evening."
Antonia had recovered herself during the colonel's somewhat formal speech.
" I had indeed not expected you here to-night," she said,
with icy coldness. "While you were keeping your soldiers
safe in their barracks, they have broken my windows here;
and you would, after all, have come too late with your regiment-with less than a regiment you would surely not have
ventured out?-if this gentleman had not been kind enough
to send the people.to their homes. Will the gentlemen permit me to -
"I have already had an opportunity to make Doctor
Munzer's acquaintance," said the colonel, with a most formal
bow, which Doctor Munzer returned as formally.
"Permit me, madam, to say good-by," said Munzer,
turning from the colonel to Antonia; "I have already consumed too much of your valuable time,"




The House of Hohenslein.          133
Antonia was about to say something in order to induce
Munzer to remain, but a look at his eyes told her that it
would be in vain. She turned, therefore, with a sudden resolution, rang violently, and said to the servant, who appeared
almost instantly:
" Light Doctor Munzer to the door! " and then to Munzer, giving him her hand: " Au revoir, doctor! I hope r
shall soon have the pleasure! "
Munzer drew the beautiful hand, which rested an instant
in his own, to his'lips, bowed once more slightly to the
colonel, who watched the leave-taking with staring eyes, as
if he would not trust his senses, and followed the servant
out of the room.
— o —
CHAPTER XVII.
THE door had hardly closed again, when the colonel,
starting from his icy rigidity, walked up to Antonia,
and asked her fiercely:
"What does that mean, Antonia?"
Antonia crossed her arms on her bosom, and replied in a
tone of freezing coldness, which contrasted very strangely
with the fire in her eyes:
" I believe I have rather a right to ask what it means,
that you dare speak to me in such a tone!"
The colonel had no reason to seek a quarrel with his
sister-in-law.; but his wrath got the better of his prudence,
and he answered violently:
"It is unheard of, it is a real scandal, that you, Antonia
Hohenstein, should dare to receive at your house a man of
such bad reputation. You have taken liberties enough in
your life, but will you go beyond all limits? Are the people
to point at you with the finger openly, as they now shrug
their shoulders at you behind your back?"
The hoarse voice of the colonel had become still rougher
and hoarser as he said these words. He threw his helmet on
a chair (from which it rolled on the carpet), and ran up and
down like a wild beast, with fury in his eyes.




134           The House of Hohenstein.
Antonia had not changed her position, and the tone of her
voice was, if possible, still icier, as she said:
"If I did not know, mon cher, that in moments like the
present it is rather jealousy than any other feeling which
makes you speak so, I should certainly tell the servants to
show you out. As it is, I can only tell you: pick up your helmet, which you have thrown down in utter disregard of the
national colors it displays, and go quietly home. When I
may have the honor of seeing you again, will depend entirely
on my remembering to-morrow at breakfast what you have
said and what you have done just now. I hope I shall have
forgotten it. Until then farewell! "
"Pardon me, Antonia," said the colonel, who felt that he
had gone too far, and ought to make his peace in time. "I
was beside myself, seeing here this man whom I cannot endure. You do not know, or you have forgotten, that this is
the same man who, two years ago, when we had the great
riot here, organized the national guard with their white bands
around the arm-the ragged guard, we called it-and by his
writings and his speeches did everything in his power to
throw the blame upon us, and especially upon myself."
"Ah indeed!" said Antonia. "I did not think of that.
Ah! that was Doctor Munzer?   You say he was implicated?"
"Yes; that is to say, not directly," replied the colonel,
picking up his helmet and putting it on a console; "not directly, but he afterwards became mixed up with it, as he
always meddles with things that do not concern him, and
appeared as a sort of advocate of the rabble, upon whom I
had been forced to give orders to fire. It was he who induced the magistrates to form a commission of inquiry, which
was to take evidence; and although the commission was suppressed by order of government, and the whole question was
summarily dismissed, he was, after all, the cause that I
received a severe reprimand from the commander-in-chief,
a thing I am not going to forget very soon, I assure you."
" But, if I am not mistaken, you told me at that time it was
your brother Arthur who got you into the trouble," said
Antonia, who had seated herself, and beckoned the colonel
to take a seat by her.
"My amiable brother Arthur had his share in the




The House of Rohensteinz.         I35
matter," replied the colonel; "for in those days the alderman was still a liberal; while quite recently, I am told, he
has changed his flag, and is now very conservative. Who
knows, perhaps Mr. Munzer also will follow his example, and
is only waiting for government to offer him a good price.
Believe me, Antonia, these men are capable of everything,
if one only knows how to find out their weak points: that is,
to give them as much money as they want. Why, I am almost inclined to think I am on the track of an abominable
plot, in which my amiable brother, this nice Doctor Munzer,
and excellent Peter Schmitz, that dog of a republican, are
all involved together."
" You make me quite curious," said Antonia; "won't you
take a glass of wine?"
" Thanks! " said the colonel. " I know and I have always
said you are an angel, although you like at times, as just
now, to put a little devil's mask before your pretty face.
Since you are disposed to be gracious, pray let me lay aside
my sword also. Famous Burgundy! Chambertin?    Year
forty-six? And you could give such wine to a man who had
rescued you from the very rabble whom he had first himself
incited against you? Sacre/  I wish I could have been
here with half a company of my men, I would have made a
nice pie of the rascals!"
" How was that about the plot you said you had found
out? "
" I will tell you directly; for, after all, that was, next to
my desire to see you, adored Antonia,"-the colonel bowed
most gallantly-" the principal reason for my presenting myself here at so late an hour. I told you, I think, that Arthur-heaven knows by what tricks-has been reinstated in
favor with the old sinner at Rheinfeld, and that the old
man, who I think must be nearly fit for an asylum, has
taken a violent fancy to that fool, Wolfgang. The boy is
still at this moment with stupid Clotilda and her half-grown
daughter Camilla, on a visit at Castle Rheinfeld; and Selma
insists upon it, the plan is that the two young people are to
marry each other, and to be the old man's heirs. You can
imagine that Selma, in her amiable manner, dins the thing
in my ears all day long, and I cannot deny that I do not like
the look of things myself very much. You know, that if we




I36            The House of IHoh/enslein.
miss that legacy, I am a ruined man. So far, I have not
troubled myself much about it, and have been content to
think that the old man is the greatest rascal alive, and really
has no good will for anybody on earth; so that Master
Wolfgang also will be sent home sooner or later with a flea
in his ear. But since this morning the matter has become
more serious. This morning early, just as I was riding up
to the barracks, the old man sends me a letter-I think it
is the second letter I have ever received from him in my
life-in which he says-I have the stuff here, just listen and
tell me yourself if the devil is not master of the old man in
good earnest:'My dear Nephew Gisbert! I find that my
grandnephew, Wolfgang, who is at this moment staying with
me, is a very charming and gentlemanly young man, who
deserves, at least as well as your boys, to wear the king's
colors; therefore I desire him to become an officer in the
army, as I have been, and as all the Hohensteins have been,
with a few exceptions, which I neither relish.nor admire;
therefore, I desire you to arrange the matter as well as you
can-namely, to take the boy into your regiment, whereas
my father and my grandfather have both been in the same
regiment, and whereas the boy, as above mentioned, is a
true and genuine gentleman, such as no commander need
be ashamed of. In return, I am willing, if you should wish
it particularly, to give you a thousand or so, nota bene, if you fulfil the wish of your affectionate uncle, Eberhard Baron Hohenstein, lieutenant-general, etc. P. S.-I have said nothing
as yet to the boy, because I shall wait for your answer, which
is expected by return mail by the above.'
"What do you say to that?" asked the colonel, crushing
the letter and putting it in his pocket. " Is not that enough
to make a man mad? I am to take the boy in my regiment
-a boy whose mother is a grocer's daughter, or some such
thing, whom my wild brother has been compelled to marry
for good reasons, and for whose sake he has broken with
the whole family!-a boy who may rob us of the whole
property right before our noses! Does not that look like
genuine irony? It makes me mad to think of it."
"Why don't you tell the general that you are not wiling?
That would settle the matter at once!"
"Not exactly," replied the colonel, with a grim smile.




The House of iHo >hens/di.       13 7
"In the first place it must be remembered that the old sinner has still friends in the army, and can easily find some
other commander of a regiment who is less scrupulous than
I am; so that my refusal does not help the matter. Then I
have no reason to make the old man still more angry with
me than he is already. The devil knows why, but he has
for some time been exceedingly rude to me, to Selma, and
even to my boys. And in the third place  " the colonel
blushed slightly, and cast a sharp glance at Antonia, who
sat thoughtfully in her arm-chair opposite to him, resting her
head on her hand.
"And in the third place," he continued, slowly, "the old
man has with his usual sagacity baited his hook well. I
must confess that that bait has at this moment very peculiar
attractions for me. To speak frankly, I am terribly in need
of money, and I do not know where it is to come from. My
ordinary resources are all exhausted and - "
"Then you had better do what granduncle wants," said
Antonia, "since it is of no use to you to refuse his offer.
You would be very unwise not to take the money."
The colonel had evidently expected a very different reply
when Antonia began, and he replied, therefore, angrily:
"You can talk easily. We do not like to sell our principles and our convictions for a few miserable dollars."
"A thousand dollars is a nice sum," said Antonia, shrugging her shoulders; "but what has all that to do with Doctor Munzer? And where is the plot you spoke of just now?
I see no plot."
"I cannot show you the plot in black and white," growled
the colonel. "I only have my suspicions; and as far as I
know the rascals, the thing is plausible enough. I heard
quite accidentally that this Master Wolfgang is an intimate
friend of your Doctor Munzer, by whom he was taught
French, and with French probably also all his communistic
abominations."
"You don't say so! Handsome Master Wolfgang a friend
of Doctor Munzer? Now the story becomes downright
interesting! Tell me more about it! "
"You seem indeed to take a lively interest in this man
Munzer," said the colonel, with a grin which he intended
for a smile.




138           The1 House of Hohenstein.
"So I do," replied Antonia, laughing merrily. "The
man seems to have something to do with everything that is
going on. The Count of St. Germain, with his omnipresence,
is nothing in comparison. I told him this evening that I
thought he must be a prince in disguise, who plays the
republican to pass his time. But I do not see the plot yet!
Colonel Baron Hohenstein, you owe me still a plot!"
The colonel evidently did not relish the lady's joke.  He
sipped his wine angrily, and said:
" Well, it is at least possible that Arthur, his brother-inlaw Schmitz, and this Doctor Munzer, may have hatched
out a plan to win the old man's favor by fair means or by
foul means for this youth Wolfgang. How can we know
what they told the boy to say and to do at Rheinfeld? This
plan of making an officer of him may have been cunningly
suggested to the general.  I have been told, this Peter
Schmitz is still an ardent admirer of his sister, the alderman's wife. Might he not desire to push his sister's son?
And Munzer, again, is an intimate friend of this Schmitz;
and the two are working hand in hand, I am sure, with
Arthur. If Arthur all of a sudden becomes an ultra conservative, you may be sure he does so in order to flatter the
old man at Rheinfeld, and secondly to open a way for his
accomplices. If Wolfgang is once the acknowledged heir to
the old man, you will see how promptly his uncle Schmitz
and his friend Munzer will change flags, especially if government should help the matter a little by granting some
privilege or other to Schmitz, and by making Munzer a professor or something of the kind, with a good income."
" Mon Dieu / How fearful that sounds!" exclaimed Antonia, smiling. "I begin to think this man Munzer must be
an extremely dangerous man. I should really not wonder,
now, if it turned out that he had arranged the riot before my
house on purpose, so as to have an opportunity for introducing himself, and for involving me too, heaven knows how, in
this great and terrible conspiracy."
" You may laugh as you choose," said the colonel, angrily,
rising, putting on his sword, and seizing the helmet; "but I
do not feel like laughing at all, I assure you. I thought
that even if I had to give up all hope of ever making an impression on your fickle heart, you would at least be a friend




iTe Hozuse of Hohenstiez.       I39
of mine; but I see I am disappointed in that also. Good-by!
After what has happened this evening, I shall look forward
more calmly to your promise to be friends again. But I tell
you this "-and at these words the colonel's little eyes literally sparkled with burning jealousy-" If you should try, for
the sake of variety, a little friendship with Munzer, I give
you my word of honor that my name. shall no longer be Gisbert Hohenstein, if I do not run my sword right through the
fellow the first opportunity I have! "
" Or send a battalion of infantry after'him if I should not
be able to manage him alone! Oh, dear colonel, you are,
upon my word, too funny to-night! I won't be angry any
more about you, but please just look into the looking-glass
for a moment and see if you don't make the funniest face
that was ever seen?"
And Antonia threw herself into her fauteuil and laughed
most immoderately. "Good-night," said the colonel, curtly
and sharply; " you may laugh, but you must laugh alone. I
do not mean to be fooled by any one, not even by you."
" Good-night, brother-in-law Othello; good-night, my disinterested friend! " cried Antonia, offering him her hand,
but the colonel turned from her and hastily left the room,
slamming the door violently.
Antonia's laugh ceased the moment he had left the room.
Her beautiful face assumed an air of serious, almost painful
meditation. A crowd of varied emotions passed over her
features; once she smiled as in blissful remembrance of a
delightfully sweet moment; then again she fell back into
sombre brooding.
"He is handsome," she murmured; "oh, so handsome!
If he were mine, he would be something very different from
-one more! Why not?   He is a married man! Pshaw!
He does not look as if that would be much of an impediment. But he is an idealist, and such people take everything
so much in earnest, not comically like my brave colonel, but
in that terribly earnest way which is so desperately embarrassing. How was it with Castruccio in Rome? Poor boy!
You might still be living happily, kissing pretty girls and
painting beautiful pictures! I could not help it! I had
told you often enough, but you would not believe me-I
could not help it! I cannot be faithful! Not to such men!




140            The House of 7Hohenstein.
They do not deserve it. I wonder if this man Munzer could
really hold me? Perhaps he could hold me longer than I
could hold him? It might be worth trying-and we were
beginning so nicely. Why must that brute Gisbert come in
-and that stupid Jean? Ah yes! that must be settled tonight at once. To-morrow I might have forgotten it, or I
might not be in the right humor."
She rang the bell.
A few moments afterwards the servant entered the room.
The man probably had a bad conscience; he cast a quick,
watchful glance at his mistress, and said in a humble, servile tone:
" Did you ring, ma'am?"
" You will pack your things to-morrow. I have no use for
servants whom I cannot trust absolutely. You can go. Send
me Eliza!"
The man's pale face had turned still paler.
" But ma'am    "he stammered.
"What I have said, I have said," said Antonia, sharply.
"Go!"
The servant went out without venturing to say a word in
reply.
"One more slanderer I send out into the world," said
Antonia, throwing herself into her chair. " What does it matter? The more they tell about me, the less will be believed.
Ah! there you are, Eliza!"
— o —
CHAPTER XVIII.
YW   HILE the people of the town, greatly excited and
seemingly impelled by demons, burdened their consciences with such deeds of violence, Wolfgang was
riding through the delicious night in a frame of mind
hardly. less excited, but as much purer and holier as the fragrant breath of evening, passing over corn-fields and vineyards, is fresher and healthier than the thick steam in the
narrow streets of an over-crowded city with its confined,
mediaeval masses of buildings.




The House of Hohenstein.          I4.1
The road followed almost constantly the banks of the
river in all its capricious turns and windings. From the
lack of gravel it was very sandy after the long-continued
drought, and in spite of Moss's good-will and the honest
efforts of his stout, raw-boned, horses, the carriage proceeded
but very slowly-far too slowly for poor impatient Wolfgang.
In his desire to reach town he envied the water-fowls whom
the rattling carriage startled here and there from the reeds
near the shore, and who now darted with marvellous swiftness across the, moonlit, mirror-like surface of the river towards the opposite bank. His anxiety about his mother's
condition, which at first had filled his soul almost entirely,
had gradually subsided under the influence of calmer reflection. Wolfgang recalled to his mind that his mother had
been quite frequently subjected to similar attacks of extraordinarily violent pain, arising from neuralgia, and that she
often wandered in her mind on spuch occasions. He himself
had sat for long hours by her bedside, holding his hand on
her burning forehead, while the low moans of the poor sufferer were tearing his heart, and he would have willingly
given years of his life if he could thus have purchased one
hour's painless rest for his mother. Why should this attack
be more serious than the former? And then, would his
father have been able to go to the meeting of the City Council if he had had any doubts as to the nature of the attack?
Wolfgang had not always been in full sympathy with his
father; he had, to his great pain, observed many evidences
of a cold, heartless, and egotistical disposition; but, as long
as he could remember, his father had never once shown
this dark side of his character in his relations to his mother;
he had invariably been attentive to her and full of genuine
sympathy. This had struck the young man especially when
he had been recently summoned home by a hurried message,
and his father had told him on his arrival, in a state of great
excitement, that he had received an invitation to Rheinfeld
for himself, his mother, and Wolfgang. He had never yet
seen his father so cheerful, though cheerful was not exactly
the right word either for a state of mind so excited that
it became almost painful to the calm observer. The most
extravagant hopes his father built on the impending interview; he praised his good luck, "that the old man had




142          7The House of Hohenstein..
come to his senses at the last hour." Now, he thought,
men of his own rank would no longer look upon him askant.
And then, he might surely count upon it, that the general,
after proclaiming thus publicly his reconciliation with his
long misjudged nephew in the presence of the whole family,
would certainly include him among his other relatives when
making his last will! In fact, who could tell but he might
provide for him more abundantly than for the others, of
whom he was heartily tired!-why else should he suddenly
remember those whom he seemed to have forgotten for more
than twenty years?
" I think, my boy," he had said, patting Wolfgang on the
shoulders; " I think this visit will be of some advantage to
you. If I had known five years ago that things would turn
out thus, I should never have allowed you to choose that
miserable profession, the law, which at best leads to but
very little-an unpaid assistant-judge, or something of the
kind, for half your life. What is that? I wish you had entered
the army! That is, after all, the only proper profession for a
nobleman. What do you think, Margie?"
The mother had smiled sweetly, and said in her gentle'
voice: "I am content if you are-and Wolf!" she had
quickly added, seizing her son's hand and pressing it cordially.
Wolfgang, however, had not smiled; for the manner in
which his father had looked at the whole affair, was exceedingly displeasing to him. His father's sudden appreciation
of a rank which he had always seemed to value very little,
appeared strange to him. It agreed so little with the impressions he had gained in childhood, and with the independent views which he had since learned to entertain. And
then his finer sensibilities were offended by the low avarice
which appeared so undisguised in his father's words. Was
it always money that decided everything?  If his father
was glad to be again admitted to that society to which the
memory of his youth very naturally bound him, Wolfgang
could not share his father's gladness, but he could at least
understand the feeling. But to see how anxious his father
was about the probable duration of the old general's life-to
ear him recall, apparently, with considerable satisfaction,
that already twenty years ago the doctors had declared an




The House of Hohensteii.         I43
affection of the throat incurable, to say nothing of gout and
rheumatism-that was beyond Wolfgang. He could not reconcile it with his high notions of self-respect and dignity.
The whole journey to Rheinfeld appeared to him like a piratical expedition, like a barefaced, shameless attack upon the
rich testator; and he would gladly have been excused, especially as he could not imagine the meeting with his relations
to be anything but a very painful scene for his mother and
for himself. Did he not pass his uncles and aunts in the
street without being noticed?-perhaps without being known
to them? Did not even his cousins, Lieutenant.Cuno and Ensign Odo, who had been with him at the same school, though
not in the same class, pretend not to know him any longer.
If there had been a possibility of escaping from the visit to
Rheinfeld, Wolfgang would have joyfully seized any pretext,
and might very possibly have refused to obey his father's
order, if his mother had not been present —his dear,
sweet mother, who met his father's wishes with such devotion and cheerful self-denial.
That had happened a week ago, and now there seemed to
be an eternity between to-day and then! How much he
had experienced since that day! And while so little had happened externally, what changes had taken place within!
Where was now the repugnance he had formerly felt at the
mere thought of coming into nearer contact with his relatives?
Where his resolutions to decline, with cold politeness, any
such approach, even if they should be the first to make it?
Instead of this he had actually taken pains, in his frequent
interviews with his granduncle, to win over the choleric old
man, whose original way of thinking and whose strangely
antiquated manner of speech had invested-him with a kind
of historical interest, and to make him think better of himself and his father and mother. He had been very glad
when he succeeded, and thought he noticed that the eccentric, misanthropic cynic became somewhat milder and more
humane in his society. He had actually been enthusiastic
in his hopes of converting the gray-haired egotist just on
the brink of the grave, to the religion of humanity! And
had he been any less eager to win favor with his aunt?
Had he not listened attentively to her sentimental platitudes? Had he not always entered most readily upon her




144           The Hiouse of Hohenstein.
senseless gossip? Had he not gratefully kissed her hand one
afternoon in the park when she had said she was so sorry, so
very sorry, not to have made long ago the acquaintance of
his beautiful, gentle mother, but that she would try to make
up for lost time as well as she could, for such a friend she
had wanted all her life! And now, finally, had not Camilla's smile driven away the last cloud of indignation from
his brow? Had not her kisses silenced the bitter words he
used to hold ready for his relatives, forever and forever?
Camilla! Camilla! Yes, he had passed the line which
heretofore bounded his life, and now other and fairer stars
were shining for him. Until a few days ago-nay a few hours
ago-he had known nothing of happiness and enjoyment,
of all that can charm the heart of man-nothing more at
least than the northerner knows of the glorious splendor
with which the southern sun adorns sea, earth, and heavens.
No, it cannot be the fate of man to spend his life mournfully in meditative gloom, like his high-toned, unhappy
friend Munzer, or that strange saint in his melancholy tower.
There must be a love among men which is joyful-a love of
liberty, which is not afraid of the beautiful. What would
his mother say when she heard it all? But if she should be
really sick, sick unto death, where would then be all his
happiness and joy? What would then be beautiful and attractive any longer upon earth?
Wolfgang started suddenly from his dreams, which had
kept his mind captive, wearied as it was by so many and
so powerful impressions. As before, the tired horses were
dragging the heavy carriage slowly through the deep sand;
as before, the waters glittered on his right, in the rays of the
moon; as before, Moss sat bending forward in the corner of
his seat, mute and motionless as a dead man.
"How far are we now, Moss? " asked Wolfgang.
" Half way," growled Moss, without changing his position.
" Another half-hour, then, before we reach the turnpike! "
cried Wolfgang, impatiently; "why, we do not go on at all! "
Moss whistled a few long-drawn notes. On every other
occasion that would have been his only answer to the questions of an impatient passenger; but poor Wolfgang's state of
mind seemed to him to deserve special consideration. Turning his head slightly, therefore, he growled, " Sand is sand!"




The House of Hofihnstcin.         145
"Certainly, my dear Moss," said Wolfgang, knowing well
the man's strange manner of expressing himself. "'I only
wished you to drive as fast as you possibly can."
Moss whistled a few bars of " I had a comrade in the
war," which was as much as to say, " I know what is my duty,
and I mean to do it!" and then he suddenly broke off, as
if he had expressed his opinion clearly enough.
Wolfgang could not long endure the painful silence, which
affected his excited nerves.
" Moss," he said, " have you lately seen my mother?"
" Yes," said Moss.
"And did she look well?"' Well! "
"Do you mean No?"
" Harness wrong "
"What does that mean?" asked Wolfgang, strangely
touched by this expression.
Moss turned half round, as a sign that he intended to
exhaust the subject in question, and said:
"Hohensteins are Hohensteins."
"That means, dear Moss?"
" Good for nothing."
"A nice compliment for one who is a Hohenstein."
"Nobles are nobles."
" That means? "
The old driver had turned again to his horses and made
no reply. Wolfgang did not like to repeat his question, especially as they now turned from the by-road into the turnpike, and with the quicker motion his desire to get home as
soon as possible became stronger again.  The trees by the
wayside passed by slowly. Wolfgang felt as if the journey
was endless.  They passed a village; in almost all the
houses lights were still burning; at the inn there was much
life and excitement. As the carriage passed swiftly, the
guests rushed to the doors and windows. Wolfgang heard
them cry out, "They are coming! " and then again, " It is
only a carriage! " He did not know what it meant. Close
behind the village they met a procession crossing the turnpike: " Holy Virgin, pray for us! Holy Sebastian, pray for
us!"  This delayed them several minutes. Scarcely had
they started once more, when a low thundering noise, which
7




146            The House of Hohenstein.
made the earth tremble, fell upon Wolfgang's ear. The
thunder came nearer; the tremor increased; a horseman at
full speed came galloping forward. "Make room! Make
room! " The next moment several guns came dashing by;
the moonlight was glistening on the bright brass and on the
arms of the horsemen; the drivers whipped their foaming
horses furiously; an officer who rode by their side checked
his horse but just in time before Wolfgang's carriage, and
cried furiously, "Curse you! why don't you keep out of
the way! " and the wild band had passed by before old Moss
could quiet his frightened horses again.
" What does that mean?" asked Wolfgang, amazed.
" Soldiers are soldiers," growled Moss.
A horseman came trotting along. It was the surgeon,
whose horse was less accustomed to such furious speed.
Wolfgang stopped him. "Pray, sir, can you tell us what
this means? Has anything happened in town?"
The surgeon, a tall, thin man, replied in a snarling, ill-tempered voice: "What it means? False alarms, like every
day! Six times every twenty-four hours orders and counter
orders; if the captain had only waited a few minutes, the
march would have been countermanded. They want to give
us a bit of pleasant country life. All the villages occupied
by troops just as they lard a hare. The peasants are to find
out how happy they are living in a kingdom that is always
under arms. Come Lizzie, a short gallop, or we shall both be
in the guard-house. Good-by, sir."
The doctor gave his horse the spurs and galloped away.
"Drive on, Moss," Wolfgang said. "For heaven's sake,
drive on! "
Moss whistled, and the wearied horses, who no doubt
longed for their comfortable stables, trotted a little faster,
fortunately for- Wolfgang, whose restlessness had been
increased by this new episode. He leaned back on his
seat and wrapped himself closer in his overcoat. His excitement, and perhaps also the cold of the night, which began
to be severer, shook him like an attack of fever; his hands
were icy cold, but his forehead burned. His overheated
brain was crowded with fantastic visions. He saw tumultuous crowds surge through the streets; he thought he heard
the ringing of bells and the rattling of small guns. Then




The House of Hohenstein.         147
again he saw his mother lying on her bed, tortured by her
pains; then the old general pushed his bald head between
them, laughing hoarsely; and then Camilla was clinging to
him amid kisses and caresses, and suddenly tore herself
from him, as somebody from the chateau called his name.
Wolfgang started. He must have fallen asleep from sheer
fatigue, for, without his knowing how they had come there,
the carriage was rattling over the drawbridge, and stopped at
the guard-house.
" Pass on! " Wolfgang heard a squeaking voice say. He
thought he had seen for an instant his cousin Cuno's face,
but he might have been mistaken. The carriage rumbled
through the long dark passage till the sergeant opened the
two massive gates, and then into the moonlit streets. Brilliantly-lighted windows flitted by him; noisy crowds rushed
tumultuously through the streets, and scattered when a
patrol came marching up at double quick. And now a more
quiet street, the street in which the house of his parents was.
The grocery store of the neighbor, in the door the owner
with his two apprentices and the servant maid, all looking
full of curiosity and anxiety after the "riot," and then the
carriage stopped before the large dark house. Wolfgang
looked up.  Only two windows in the upper story were
dimly lighted; they were the windows of the sitting-room
which opened into his mother's chamber. With one leap he
was at the door. It was not locked. In the hall a lamp was
burning under the glass shade that hung from the ceiling.
He hastened up the broad silent staircase, and stood drawing
a long breath before the door of the sitting-room.  His
heart beat as if it would burst. What was lying behind the
thin and yet impenetrable veil of the next moment?-life or
death?
CHAPTER XIX.
T    HE door opened, and a lady, holding a lamp in her
hand, stood before Wolfgang. It was Aunt Bella.
A sudden fear fell upon the young man when he saw
his aunt, who, as far as he could remember, had only been




148            The Houase of Hohenstein.
three or four times in all at his father's house, and then only
on very extraordinary occasions. Had the fearful event really
taken place? Was his mother dying-perhaps already
dead? But his good aunt gave him no time to follow out
the terrible thought: "She is much better, much better,"
she whispered quickly.  "Come in, poor boy, you must
have been grievously distressed."
With these words she seized him by the hand, and as he
made no resistance she drew him into the room.
"Where is mamma?" asked Wolfgang.
"In the next room; she is sleeping," replied Aunt Bella,
placing the lamp on the table. " Don't be frightened; she
is doing well, very well indeed."
Wolfgang sat down on a chair. His knees'were trembling.  The precious certainty that his mother was out
of danger, had relieved him of the spasm which had compressed his heart with fear and anxiety, and the tears came
gushing from his eyes.
To see anybody weep without weeping herself, was an
impossibility for Aunt Bella. She caressed Wolfgang, pushing his hair out of his face, and said, sobbing:
" Poor, poor boy! Yes, I can believe it! You must have
suffered indeed! But now be calm! The doctor says it is
nothing, and I say so too.  I know these attacks myself.
If any one could die of them, I should have been buried long
ago."
"Good, dear aunt," said Wolfgang; "how 1I thank you
that you came! It did not occur to me at all that you might
be staying with mamma. If I had known that, I should not
have been so much distressed."
"Well, how could you have thought of it?" said Aunt
Bella. "God forgive us! it is rarely enough I come into
the house. But I felt during all these days as if something
was to happen to some member of your family. Since my
poor brother Eugene died, I have never been free from
anxiety."
"Uncle Eugene is dead?"
"Hush! not so loud! She might hear us in the next
room."  Aunt Bella drew her chair close up to Wolfgang
and whispered:
"Yes, he is dead; your dear, good uncle.  You hardly




The/ House of Ho/henstein.       149
knew him, and you cannot know what an excellent man he
was. He died a week ago; ah! and a most fearful death!
Torn to pieces by his own machines! I dare not think of
it! Your Uncle Peter went there to bring Ottilia back;
she is in the room there with your mother. Your mother
says Ottilia's hand is like your own, and Ottilia has had to
put her hand on her forehead, and thus she has been sleeping now for half an hour as sweetly as a baby. It is the
most fortunate thing in the world I did not leave the poor
girl at home, as I intended to do at first, for she had but
just arrived when your Ursula came for me. Oh, what a
stupid, foolish woman she is! How can your mother-however, that is none of my business! I asked her why she had
not at once come to me, instead of first running over the
whole town in search of your father, who left the house in
the morning and has not returned yet, and what do you
think she said? She had thought I was not fond of your
mother because I came so rarely to see her! That is the
consequence, when people, whom God,has meant to be
friends, part asunder from foolish pride or stupid obstinacy.
But I hope that will be changed now. Your mother has
become so fond of the little girl! she will want to see her
often, and then I can come too, although they may not send
for me particularly. I am everywhere the fifth wheel."
"But! Aunt Bella," said Wolfgang, "mamma always
speaks of you with'the greatest kindness, and I — "
" Hush! hush! " said the aunt; " I know what I know.
Aunt Bella is in demand whenever there is any use for her.
I have all my life been Cinderella in the family; but I do not
mind that; not in the least; I am used to it. But tell me,
Wolfgang, what have you been doing at Rheinfeld? I thought
your father and the old general were arch enemies? How on
earth could that come about? For heaven's sake, Wolfgang,
have nothing to do with them. I tell you, they are all of
them bad; every one of them. If your father had stood by
us, honestly and fairly, after he had once come to us, you
would be better off, and so would we."
"Maybe, aunt," said Wolfgang, meditatively, "it may be
so; but that is a long story; we'll discuss that some other
time. Has papa not come back yet from the City Hall?
and what is going on in town? "




I50           The House of Hfoensteinz.
"Heaven knows," replied Aunt Bella; "it looks as if
men could not live in peace. My brother Peter left our
house in the evening with Doctor Munzer and Doctor Holm,
without saying a word. I did not like that at all, but they always say they do not stand upon ceremony with me. I
wish you men had to endure; for once, the anxiety we suffer
when we have to sit at home alone, not knowing what is going on out-doors, and starting every time the bell rings because we think, There comes a messenger with bad news! I
do not understand your father; although your mother was
not quite so sick when he left, still she was not well, and he
might better have stayed at home. You would have stayed
at home, I am perfectly sure; but you have Schmitz blood in
your veins, and Schmitz blood is true. St! was not that
your mother! Yes, she has waked up! Shall I go in and
tell her you are here? "
" Please do, dear aunt; but do not trouble mamma, if she
asks where papa is."
" I am not such a fool," replied Aunt Bella, with offended
dignity. " Do you think I am a child? Do you hear? your
mother is laughing; she must have waked up quite well
again. I knew it would be so; Ottilia is a real angel. I am
only curious to know what you will say when you see the little one. She would make a nice wife for you."
Aunt Bella rose and disappeared in the adjoining room.
Wolfgang walked up and down in great excitement, for the
conversation with his aunt had touched him in his sensitive
points. He had had similar conversations with the good
lady before; but to-day, these unpleasant relations in the
family, which had so often been talked over and regretted,
appeared to him more painful than ever.
The few seconds he was kept waiting seemed to him an
eternity. He heard Aunt Bella speaking, and then his
mother, and then a soft, melodious voice, which he did not
know.
The door opened.
"Will you come in, Wolfgang? Your mother is quite
well now."
Wolfgang entered the room in which his mother's frequent indisposition had made him feel quite at home, and in
which he had spent so many anxious hours by her bedside,




The House of Ho/oenstein.         151
alternating between fear and hope. There lay his mother,
looking pale and worn under the shadow of the curtains,
which flowed down in rich folds, but greeting him with smiling lips and smiling eyes; and lighted up by the soft glow
of a lamp which was on a stand near the head of the bed,
sat a young girl, who rose, when he came near her, and
joined Aunt Bella, who was preparing some refreshing drink
at another table.
" Is that you, my Wolfgang?" said the mother. "Ah! I
have longed for you so much! Pardon me for causing you
so much anxiety; but I wanted to see you, I could not help
it," and she placed her feeble arms around the neck of her
darling son, who was bending over her, deeply moved, and
kissed him as a mother only can kiss.
" Do not let me excite you too much, dearest mamma,"
said Wolfgang in a low voice; " I'll stay with you. Lie
down again nicely! That's it."
" Oh, I feel quite strong," said Margaret, "quite strong!"
and her head sank feebly back upon her pillow; "they have
nursed me so tenderly, Bella and the dear little one. Where
is Ottilia? "'" Did you call me, dear aunt? " said the young girl, turning towards the bed, and then hesitating timidly, as Wolfgang rose from his seat by his mother and looked at her with
deep interest.
"Yes, my child," said Margaret.  Come here! I must
show you my Wolfgang. That is Ottilia, Wolfgang! "
Ottilia came promptly up to the bed and bent over the
patient, to conceal a burning blush which had suddenly overspread her whole face.
"Dear, sweet girl! " said Margaret, kissing her on her
forehead. " He will be as fond of you as we all are; won't
you, Wolfgang?"
"Certainly I will," said Wolfgang, offering his hand to
Ottilia, who now turned towards him.
The young girl was about to say something in reply, but
her lips only trembled, as she laid her hand slowly, almost
hesitatingly, in that of Wolfgang.
Thus they stood, and now for the first time looked each
other full in the face.
"That I will! " repeated Wolfgang, and this time he said




152            The House of Hohenstein.
so with full conviction. " I feel as if we were old friends,
Cousin Ottilia," he added, after a little pause, still holding
her hand in his own.
"And I feel so too," replied Ottilia.
Margaret's eyes had rested with indescribable tenderness
on the two tall forms.
"Now I have two children," she said in a whisper. She
folded her hands on her bosom, and closed her eyes.
"I feel tired again," she said.' You would better go
home, Bella and Ottilia; Wolfgang shall escort you. I do
not want anybody to sit up with me. If I want anything, I
can ring the bell and Ursula will come, but I know I shall
sleep very well. Tell father, when he comes home, that I
am quite well again. Do you hear, Wolfgang? "
Aunt Bella was by no means disposed to approve of this
arrangement, and was just going to protest, but Wolfgang
made her a sign to be silent. The good lady obeyed him,
shaking her head. The three prepared very quietly to leave
the room.." Ottilia! " said Margaret in a low voice, and without opening her eyes; "Ottilia, you will come again to-morrow?"
" Certainly, dear aunt," replied the young girl.
"Well! Now let me sleep; I am so tired."
Wolfgang had accompanied the ladies to their house, and
was now slowly walking homeward again, through the wellknown streets. Everything was perfectly quiet now in that
partof the town; only here and there some taverns and
drinking-houses were still full of brawlers; but everywhere
else people seemed to be tired of making useless noises;
a few windows only were still lighted. The full moon had
sunk low behind the huge houses, but shone yet, pale and
silvery, on the lofty steeples; down below all was dark.
Wolfgang felt as if the distance was enormous to-night. He
was so tired that he dreamed as he walked. Already on his
way to Peter Schmitz's house, he had hardly heard what
Aunt Bella said, as she hung on his arm-it must have been
very important, for she had been speaking incessantly and
with great animation; but he did not recollect a word of
what she had said. Ottilia, who walked on the other side
of him, had been very silent; only once she had said:
"-Wolfgang must not do that! " but he did not know now




The House of Hohenste in.        I53
in what connection these words had been uttered. He tried
to recall it, but the more he thought of it, the darker the
past became to him. "What must I not do? " he asked
himself again and again.
Thus he came into a quiet, lonely street, into which he
had found his way through inattention, for his way did not
lead him in this direction. As he passed one of the handsomest houses, marked by a balcony, supported by ivy-clad
pillars, the front door suddenly opened, and a gentleman
came down the steps so hurriedly that he knocked against
Wolfgang, startling him rather rudely out of his dreams.
"Excuse me!" said the man, and hurried on.
"Was not that Doctor Munzer? " said Wolfgang to himself. " And how did I get here? Is not this Aunt Antonia's
house? What has Munzer to do here? "
The meeting with Munzer had roused Wolfgang for a
while, but soon the exhaustion overwhelmed him again. He
could scarcely drag himself along, and was heartily glad
when he reached his parents' house at last. He saw a light
in the right-hand room downstairs, where his father slept.
His father must be at home. The front door was locked.
Wolfgang rang the bell cautiously, so as not to disturb his
mother. No one came to open the door, but he saw the
light in his father's bedroom move to and fro. Tired and
impatient as he was, the young man climbed up on the lattice work, covered with creepers, till he could knock at the
window, saying, "It is I! "
The curtain was raised, and Wolfgang jumped down again.
The window opened and his father looked out.
"Is it you, Wolfgang?"
"Yes, papa! "
"Are you alone?"
"Who should be with me?" replied the young man, wondering at the question.
"I'll open directly."
A few minutes later the front door opened. Wolfgang saw
his father standing before him in his dressing-gown, holding a
light in his hand. He looked so pale, so disturbed, so utterly exhausted, that Wolfgang was frightened.
"Are you ill, papa?"
"Ill? Why?" replied his father, in the act of locking
7*




154           The House of IHohenstein.
the door again. Wolfgang noticed that the hand in which
he held the candle trembled violently. He took the light
from him, and as he touched his father's hand in doing so,
he felt that it was icy cold.
" But, dear papa, you must really be ill!" exclaimed the
young man, seriously concerned.
"Oh, not at all! " replied the counsellor, trying to smile.
" I am worn out, literally worn out; all day long on my legs;
speaking all the time. That is very fatiguing. I am very
tired, very. Good-night! You can keep the light, I have
another one burning in my room."
"Have you been up to mamma's room?"
"I? No, for heaven's sake, no!" and the alderman
trembled visibly as he said so. " Go to bed, my boy," he
added after a pause. " You need not look at me so anxiously; I am well, perfectly well, but rather tired. All day
long on my legs; speaking all the time-good-night, my
boy!"
The alderman wrapped himself closer in his dressinggown, and went quickly into his room, locking the door behind him.  Wolfgang was struck by this; generally his
father slept with unlocked doors.
A strange anxious feeling overcame the young man, as
with the light in his hand he stood there in the large hall,
in which the monotonous ticking of the old hall-clock resounded unnaturally loud. The lamp in the glass shade
flickered for a moment and then went out. Wolfgang was
unpleasantly touched by this accident. He had just been
thinking of his mother, and he felt as if it were a bad omen.
" You are over-fatigued," he said to himself.  " Make
haste to get into bed, or you will see ghosts to-night, sure
enough."
He went cautiously upstairs, listened on the landing of
the second story at the door of his mother's room-all was
quiet. He went into the third story, to his own room in one
of the gable-ends; there he had slept as a boy, and now
occupied it whenever he came on a visit. He undressed
slowly, for his hands almost refused to serve him, and he
had scarcely blown out the light, when leaden sleep, broken
by anxious dreams, fell upon his wearied soul.




The House of Hohenstein.         155
CHAPTER XX.
BUT however anxious Wolfgang's dreams might be, far
more anxious and fearful were the thoughts which
during this night danced, as in a witches' dance, up
and down in the wakeful mind of the man who had to-day
staked the last remnant of his honor on one card, and must
now fear every moment to lose his game. The slightest
sound that was heard in the quiet house made him start;
the ticking of the hall-clock, to which he had been accustomed for more than twenty years, now made him so nervous
that he slipped out on tip-toe and stopped it; and when he
had locked himself up once more in his room, all was so
still! so still! and the blood in his ears sang so loud! so
loud!-and he slipped out again and set the clock agoing
once more. Then he heard an owlet in the old convent on
the other side of the street, which did not cease to screech
till other owlets joined in, calling out very distinctly: " Here,
here, here is the thief, thief, thief! " It was intolerable; it
would drive him mad.
And no light in the room! In the dark, his head buried
in his hand-to have to sit so or to creep anxiously on the
soft carpet and watch how the narrow bands of moonlight,
which crept in through the curtains, moved slowly, ah! how
slowly! on and on. The torment was only increased by his
watching them, but it had to be borne. If the thing should
come out, and the night-watch should depose that there had
been a light burning all night long in the alderman's room?
" Why was there a light burning? Why was he not asleep
in his bed?" " My wife was sick, gentlemen. Do you expect
a man to be able to sleep when his wife is sick unto death?"
" But witness, Ursula Klingel, who was then in your service,
and was sitting up with your wife, deposes that you never
left your room, or at least that you never entered your wife's
room that day and night? What have you to say to that,
accused? And how do you explain that your bed was found
undisturbed on the following morning? Speak, accused?"
" I must go to bed," murmured the alderman, as, standing
in the middle of the room, he ceased to recite the fearful
cross-examination, wiping the big drops of perspiration from




156           The House of Hohenstein.
his brow. "I must go to bed it would be additional evidence against me!"
He crept into his bed-room, which adjoined his library in
the front part of the house, went to bed and pressed his feverish head deep into the pillows. And now! Hark! Was
not that the step of a patrol, which came up the lonely street?
As long as he had been living here-twenty years-no patrol
had ever come through this street. What could they want
here except to come for him?.. Several police officers, no
doubt, accompanied them... keeping step... to reassure
him. But I am not so easily caught.. an old fox...
With one leap the alderman was out of his bed and at the
place near the wall where his pistols were hanging. He
cocked one. " At the first knock on the front door or the
window! a flash, a noise, and all is over! "
But the patrol marched by with even step, and the echo
soon died away at the other end of the street. The alderman drew a long breath, hung the pistol again in its place,
and slipped into bed. His teeth knocked against each
other; fierce fever shook his limbs; he drew the cover over
his head, that he might see nothing and hear nothing; and
at last merciful sleep came and released the unhappy man
from his torture.
But early in the morning he awoke, and now, while everything in the house and the town was still perfectly quiet, and
the morning dawn chased away the nightly spectres, he
could reflect on his situation in comparative quietude.
Taking all in all, his cards were not so bad; they might
have been worse, at all events. It was not very probable
that the indolent burgomaster would do anything more with
the City Treasury, except to let it be carried back to the old
place; and in these stormy times an examination of the
treasury was a highly improbable thing, especially as, only a
few days before, a resolution had been passed that no more
paper money should be issued for the present. Then it was
almost certain that he who had rendered the city such eminent services, and to whom they owed some kind of acknowledgment, would be chosen to take care of these very
sums of money. The chief burgomaster had spoken of it
only last night, as they went through the long passages up
to the treasury. Alderman Heydman had become his en



The House (of Hohenstein.        157
thusiastic admirer, since he had succeeded by his addresses
in weaning the factory hands from their attachment to the
revolution. If he once had the administration of the city
revenues in his hands, he could easily replace the borrowed
sum, either by instalments, or, if fortune favored him, and a
certain long-desired speculation turned out well, by a single
payment, and then he would be relieved from all care. What
was now most important was to appear perfectly sound in his
finances in the eyes of all his colleagues on the board, and
to make this appearance still stronger by a public reconciliation with his family, and thus to furnish a brilliant proof
that he, the scion of such an old and illustrious family, and
a man of large fortune, could not possibly be one of those
people who, in these days of confusion and suffering, threw
themselves headlong into the whirlpool, because they had no
name and no fortune to lose.
The principal difficulty, however, seemed to be how he
should bring into circulation so large a sum of new notes
without exciting suspicion. He had to pay ten thousand
dollars in order to take up due-bills to that amount; and he
had taken yesterday, from the treasury, exactly ten thousand
dollars in notes of five hundred and one hundred dollars,
when he put them, without counting, into his coat pocket;
but his own private funds amounted in all only to five hundred dollars. These five hundred mixed with the thousands
looked still very suspicious-he had made the experiment,
with locked doors, as soon as he had risen-especially as he
had to pay only three notes.
An accident, so favorable and fortunate that the alderman
at first feared it was a trap to catch him, came to his aid.
The old, miserly grocer at the street corner, with whom he
had occasionally done some little business, came, towards
nine o'clock, and begged to inquire if the alderman was
disposed to do him a great favor, which he should be prepared to return at any time, when it was in his power. He
had to send off six thousand five hundred dollars, and nothing but gold and silver in his house-could the alderman
give him paper-money to that amount? He would like to
take it in city currency, because he could make a little profit
on it at the place to which he had to send the money.
The alderman replied that he had a few city obligations in




158            The House of Hohienstein.
his house, since part of the salary of the city officials was
regularly paid out in such currency, but of course not as
much as Mr. Pitter demanded; but if the latter could return
in an hour, he would probably be able by that time to collect the necessary amount by the aid of some friend, who
he knew had city obligations.
Thus the alderman came in possession of money, which
he could pay out without fear, at the same time that the
treacherous notes were for a while at least carried off to a distant place, and the danger was thus considerably diminished.
Now, at last, Baron Hohenstein summoned courage to go
upstairs to his wife. He was very much surprised to find
her out of bed. This morning, Margaret felt perfectly well,
as was apt to be the case after those attacks of hers. She
had risen several hours ago, and could hardly await the
time when she might have an hour's cosy chat with her
Wolfgang. But Wolfgang had not answered her "Good
morning, lazy sleeper! " which she had called out to him
through the open door; and when she had crept up to his
bed to wake him with a kiss, she had found him in lethargic sleep, with feverish, flushed cheeks and half-closed
eyes. She had only left his bed once since then, in order
to send the servant for a physician, and thus the alderman
found her.
"It is probably nothing at all," he said; "over fatigue
after the excitement of yesterday. Did you send for the
doctor? Don't trouble yourself about him; we Hohensteins
are quite tough."
He had felt the patient's pulse and then left the room
again. His soul, thoroughly exhausted, was no longer capable of receiving outside impressions. And yet, after his own
manner, he had been very, very fond of his son, his only child.
It occurred to him that the old man at Rheinfeld might consider it an act of special courtesy if he should inform him
of this new misfortune. He wrote, therefore, a few lines to
the general, in which he complained bitterly of the injustice
of fate, and its untiring persecutions.
The due-bills were paid; the people who had received
their money had congratulated the alderman on having so
much gold and silver in his treasury at a time when the precious metals were everywhere seeking safe hiding-places.




The House of Hohenstein.          59
And now the alderman had to brace himself to attend a
meeting of the City Council, to which he had been summoned
by the city messenger, Wenzel. He must be there at eleven
o'clock, and yet he felt so tired, so exhausted-would it not
be better to excuse himself on the plea of sickness? It was
the truth; but how could he risk being sick to-day? How
could he dare look ill even?
He glanced at the mirror, and was startled by his pale,
haggard face. It was impossible to appear thus. He remembered that in former years, when they called him the
" handsome Hohenstein," he had occasionally put on a little
rouge after wild nights. He must have the requisite things
still, somewhere among his toilet articles. He looked; he
found the little ivory box, inlaid with silver; everything was
still in good order, and with trembling hands he put it on
his pale cheeks. He had not lost his former skill. He felt
sure that the false appearance of fresh health looked quite
natural..He went out into the street. The morning sun was shining kindly over the gray roofs of the convent buildings,
through the mighty tops of the old trees into the street, and
in the branches birds were singing their -carols-it was a
glorious morning. But the alderman was not aware of it.
Formerly he had always walked on one side of the street,
the sunny side, because the warmth did him good; to-day
he chose the other side, in the shade of the long convent
wall. But in the next street he had to leave the shade and
plunge into the din and turmoil of one of the principal arteries of the populous, busy city. He was accustomed to be
greeted by the people, and he had always been proud of being bowed to by so many-to-day he felt as if all the people
whom he had ever known, had agreed to meet him in the
street. Every other man took off his hat to him, and stared
into his eyes or his face; one or the other even turned round
-he noticed it all-and looked after him. And there came
Dr. Snepper, who probably went to see his son; he could
not escape meeting him, and the little hunch-backed man
had such desperately sharp eyes!
" Good morning, morning, alderman! Just about to go to
your house. Hope nothing serious? But how charming
you look! Growing younger, upon my word, every day! A




10G           7The House of Hohenstein.
pinch? To-night at the club? eh? Must speak, alderman
dear, must speak! Are the man of the day now! Addio!"
The alderman went on with firm steps. If Dr. Snepper
did not notice anything peculiar about him, he was safe, as
far as that went.
The meeting also passed off pleasantly. The clerks had
not smiled when he entered the offices, but bowed to him
with great respect, and hastened to open the door of the
council-room for him; the chief burgomaster had not ordered
the doors to be closed during the session, had not risen and
said, pointing at him: "I am under the sad necessity, gentlemen.... " but had welcomed him, like all of his colleagues, with great cordiality; had inquired almost affectionately how his wife was to-day, and how he was; and had
finally said with great emphasis: "I am delighted to see
you look so well, dear colleague; it is as if we had won a
victory; you are a real blessing to us now. May heaven
grant you strength! We shall have to look to you for assistance quite often now." Then he had taken him aside and
said, in a whisper: "All right again at the old place! Let
us say as little as possible about it, so that the thing does
not become too public. The treasurer has sent word he is
sick again. You will have to make up your mind to be his
successor. There is very little to do. An examination will
be unnecessary; we have seen the whole thing yesterday;
ha! ha! ha! We can settle the matter quietly between us;
Krause will be satisfied, and so will the others. May I beg
the gentlemen to take their seats? We must go to business."
The question before them was, to know what measures the
magistrates should take, under present circumstances, to protect the citizens and their property. A few of the members
-among them lawyer Kattebolt-thought there was but one
way to get out of the present difficulties, and that was to
grant the people arms, as they desired. The people, he said,
must be made to feel an interest in the common weal and
woe. If they are excluded, they fall into the hands of the
revolutionary party.  But this view was only feebly supported, and no one opposed it more violently than Alderman
Hohenstein. " I have always been'in favor of liberty," he
said, " and I am still; but, gentlemen, unbounded liberty is
no longer liberty; that is anarchy, the dissolution of all ties,




/The House of Hoh/enstein.        16I
chaos itself. Do you wish us to return to chaos? Who are
these people of whom so much is said?  Who seem to
be the only party in the state now? Not the sovereigns and their servants;. not the government officials or
the officers of the communities; not those who have culture
and energy; above all, not the property-holders; not even the
steady mechanics, whose work is sadly interfered with by all
this rioting. Who is it, then? A few over-wrought minds,
who do not know themselves very clearly what they are
after; men who have missed their vocation, or whose vocation it is to have none, or none that is ostensible. Ambitious
men, fishing in troubled waters; bankrupts anxious to escape
imprisonment for debts; and behind them a loose set of
men, each one of whom singly is merely an object of contempt for you, and whom you respect en masse, only because
it is a mass, a crowd. Look at France, and you will be horrified to see where it leads to if the people and the rabble
are confounded with each other. Do you wish us to have
French scenes enacted in our land? Look at Southern
Germany, and you will understand that the revolutionists
desire the same state of things here as in France. But they
are powerless here, God be thanked, and will remain powerless, if we do not ourselves recklessly give them the power
we now hold in our hands."
Baron Hohenstein's speech had been frequently interrupted by loud applause; a unanimous bravo rewarded him,
after he had spoken the last words, as he sank in unfeigned
exhaustion back into his chair. They were unanimously of
the opinion that the people were nothing but rabble, and
that it would be committing high treason against the country
to enter into negotiations with socialistic enthusiasts and
their mad followers. Only lawyer Kattebolt-an obstinate
man, and a special adversary of the alderman, of whose
circumstances he knew more than the latter liked-insisted
upon his opposition. In a lengthy speech-during which all
his colleague's expressions of dissent could not disconcert
him for a moment-he explained his views, and placed before them the alternative of openly and honestly acknowledging the revolution with all its consequences, or of submitting to a terrible re-action, which would re-establish the
old regime, in all its horrors, and make Germany for a gen



G62            The House of Hohenslein.
eration the foot-ball of Europe.  Then, looking fixedly
through his spectacles at Baron Hohenstein, he cried: "And
who are those who dare give you such fatal advice? Men
who belong to a class of society that has never yet admitted
a trace of true humanity, of genuine love of our fellow-beings; men who were liberal as long as liberalism was profitable-very profitable, gentlemen! And who now, when the
chances are less promising, no longer remember that they
ever were liberal, that they ever joined the people, that they
are even at this very moment bound to the people by ties
which everywhere else are looked upon as sacred."
" If these allusions are meant for me " exclaimed
Hohenstein, starting up from his seat.
"Qui se sent morveux qu'il se mouche!" said Mr. Kattebolt.
"Fie, fie!" cried Alderman Heydman.
" It is unbearable! It must not be allowed! Really, he
has not deserved that! " cried several voices in confusion.
"Baron Hohenstein has the floor! " exclaimed the chief
burgomaster, who had been ringing the little silver bell that
stood before him on the council-table for more than a
minute.
"I have only to say a few words, gentlemen," began Hohenstein, in a voice which trembled with excitement from
within, although externally he was as calm and as haughty
as ever. "A very few words; if you choose to call it so,
nothing at all; for to insults that have no foundation whatever, there is no reply, at least no reply which would be in
place at this hour and in this room."
" No adversary is overcome nowadays with feudal weapons," sneered Mr. Kattebolt, with a scornful laugh.
"Fie, fie! " cried Alderman Heydman.
"Outrageous! intolerable! nonsense!" seconded half a
dozen others.
"Gentlemen," said chief burgomaster Dasch, making a
great effort to be heard above the din caused by so many
persons speaking at once; " I pray, I beseech you, do not
let us engage in dissensions of such a kind at a moment
when we ought to pursue our end viribus unitis! Let us esteem the common welfare higher than our private interests!
Let us sacrifice ourselves on the altar of our common coun



The House of Hohenstein.          163
try! A true man is worth much in evil times like ours; but,
gentlemen, two true men are worth a great deal more. As
the chief magistrate of this city, as your old colleague, andmay I not say so?-as your friend, I beseech you, dear friends
and colleagues, do not rise from this table without first having shaken hands in token of your reconciliation?"
"Bravo, bravo!" cried Heydman.
" I am perfectly ready to forget that I have been attacked!"
said Hohenstein, extending his hand with dignity across
the table towards his adversary.
" I have only spoken for the cause which was under question; as for the person-I trouble myself little about
that," growled Mr. Kattebolt, touching the proffered hand
with his finger-tips.
Thus peace was restored, and soon after the meeting was
adjourned, after a resolution had been passed by an overwhelming majority to let matters rather come to the worst,
than to yield to the demands of Munzer and his companions and to grant arms to the people at large.
" You paid him well! " said Alderman Heydman to Baron
Hohenstein, as they were both going down the broad staircase of the City Hall. "A keen, scoffing fellow, a quarrelsome brawler, who seems to have a special spite against you.
Take care of that man, my dear Baron Hohenstein!"
"Pshaw! what can he do?" said the alderman.
"Hm, hm!" said Mr. Heydman. " The fellow has a finger
in every pie, and to-day is pay-day. If you should want any
money, Baron Hohenstein, a few thousand dollars are always to be had for Heydman & Co.'s friends!"
The alderman felt an electric shock. If he had been offered that much a few days earlier-if it had been done
yesterday!
" Of course, only for a short time," said the cautious
manufacturer, who repented of his offer almost as soon as
he had made it. "Money is very scarce now, and we must
all be prepared."
"You are very kind," said Baron Hohenstein. "But I
am fortunately able as yet to help myself."
" Very well," said Mr. Heydman, very well pleased not
to have been taken at his word. " But I must turn in here;
no harm done, Baron Hohenstein, I meant it well."




164            The House of Hohens/cin.
" Of course, of course! Such a friend!"
"Much obliged! Much obliged!"
The gentlemen shook hands, and the alderman walked on
alone.
" It would have been of no use, after all," he said to himself. " I have gone too far; I cannot go back now."
It was afternoon before the alderman reached his house
again. He went at once to his room, rang for a maid, asked
how his son was, and upon Ursula's report that he was better, he told her to bring him some bread and a bottle of
wine. He instructed her, also, not to tell his wife that he
had come home, as he was too tired to come to dinner, and
wanted to sleep a few hours. He.could be seen by nobody, " do you hear, Ursula, by dobody whatever! "
The alderman put on his dressing-gown, and laid down
on his sofa; but sleep, for which he so ardently longed, would
not come. The tormenting anxiety lest his crime might be
discovered at any moment, had been much diminished by
the events of the morning, but he knew only too well that
it might come at any moment. And what was he to do next?
His fatal crime had rescued him from momentary embarrassment; the ten thousand dollars had slipped through his fingers as through a sieve; why had he not taken twenty or
thirty thousand at once? It was all one, and he could have
replaced a larger sum probably more easily than the smaller
sum. How foolishly timid he had been; but then it was
not too late yet. He was in all probability to be made city
treasurer himself, and then!-but how to manage it till
then? If he now showed any sign of weakness, he was a
lost man; he had misled Heydman & Co.; he must do the
same with the others - especially people like that man
Kattebolt. "How the fellowv stared at me! and what an infernal smile he has! as if he knew it all, and only did not
want to betray me, because he liked to torture me. I must
have money-but how can I get it? how?"
The alderman passed in review all the people who might
possibly help him.  There were few respectable persons
among them, mostly well-known usurers or reckless speculators. For a moment he even thought of his brother-in-law
Peter. But that was out of the question, of course. How
could he dare present himself before Peter, after all that




The IZHse of Hohenzstein,.       165
had happened? especially since he had spoken so violently
against the republican tendencies which Peter had cherished
ever since he had known him; and then he knew perfectly
well that Peter's circumstances were by no means brilliant.
His radical paper did not pay well; the alderman's friends
and acquaintances all thought it would not live beyond the
next three months, unless it should adopt more moderate
views-a change which was not likely to occur, considering
the well-known convictions of the proprietor and the two editors. Then the death of Peter's brother Eugene-the alderman knew the whole situation of the Schmitz family too
intimately, not to be aware that this event would be a new
source of expense to Peter.
"There is rio one who can help me except the old man at
Rheinfeld," murmured the alderman, jumping up from his
sofa, and pressing his cold hands on his feverish temples, as
he strode up and down the room. "But he won't. He has
been kind enough to Wolfgang, to be sure, but it is a long
way from such kindness to his opening his strong-box.  And
why must Wolfgang be taken sick just now? If he were
well, I could at least find out the old man's opinion of
us."'
When the alderman last night committed the fatal act
that made him a criminal, he had flattered himself with the
idea that he was doing what he did, not for his own sake,
but for that of his family, whom he did not wish to expose
to the disgrace of a reckless failure; and now when the deed
was done, the thought of his wife and his son caused him
intolerable pain, for he knew they would with horror reject
the sacrifice he had made for their sake, and prefer anything,
even death itself, to such a salvation. Last night it had occurred to him that his wife might die, and he had breathed
more freely, for thus half of this burden would be taken from
him! And this morning, when he saw his son lying pale
and suffering before him, he had again felt nothing else than
that a wretch like himself ought not to have such a son, and
that a son like Wolfgang ought not to have such a father, and
that it might be better for him never to awake again. And
yet Wolfgang's friendly relations with the old gentleman at
Rheinfeld were now his only hope. It was evident that the
general's interest was confined to Wolfgang; perhaps he




166'The House of Hohenstein.
might grant to the son what he would refuse to the father!
And now Wolfgang must be sick in bed!
The alderman pulled off his dressing-gown-he never appeared'a neglig in his own family, if he could possibly
avoid it-dressed, and went upstairs to the sick-room. He
found Ursula sitting by his bedside, who told him in a whisper that the young man had been awake for an hour, that he
was much better, and her mistress had but just this' moment left him to go downstairs to receive Miss Bella Schmitz
and the young lady who had spent the whole of last night
with her. The alderman frowned. Surely, this was not the
time for reviving the old family relations-now, when it was
all important to him to make his breaking off with the republican party as public as possible, and especially to show
that he had nothing at all to do with his humble connections
in the ranks of the democracy.
He sat down by his son's bed, took his hot hand in his
own, and let it drop again, because he fancied Wolfgang had
started at the touch, as if in pain.
Thus he sat, lost in thought, and recalled the time when
Wolfgang was born, and how proud he had been that it was
a son, and what hopes he had formed in connection with him.
At that time he was still in partnership with Peter Schmitz
-at least ostensibly; and he had said to himself, Peter must
help me to make the boy rich, and then he shall resume the
place in the world which his father has so recklessly abandoned. How far had these hopes been fulfilled? He had
forsaken his brother-in-law, in order to reach his aim more
quickly; but he had sorely miscalculated. His brother-inlaw had not grown rich, it was true, but he had remained an
honest man; he himself was poorer than ever-andThe alderman started up; he felt as if he were stifled.
He whispered to Ursula that he had important business to
attend to in town, and would probably be out late. If her
young master should not be better, Ursula was not, as usual, to
leave a lighted lamp in his library; he would come and sit
up with his son himself.
He left the house, and crept about for hours through the
dark streets, always choosing the loneliest portions of the
town.  He had intended to go to a restaurant which he was
in the habit of frequenting, but he felt himself unequal to




7he House of Hohenstein.          167
the effort to look natural and to chat as usual. His strength
was nearly exhausted. He could hardly drag himself along.
He entered a low inn in the suburbs, and asked for a glass
of wine. This refreshed him somewhat. He was just going
to ask for another glass, when he noticed two men in blouses
who sat near by at a table and smoked their short clay pipes,
looking at him, and putting their heads together. He gave
the bar-maid the first piece of money that fell into his hand,
and left instantly.
Once more he was wandering through the deserted streets.
He came near the great cathedral. From the tall windows of
a side chapel lights were dimly shining upon the square he
heard the organ and chants.  He stopped for a moment,
thinking what a consolation it would be to him if he could
creep into the darkest corner there, and confess to the ear
of a man who is bound to secrecy by a fearful oath, that he,
Baron Arthur Hohenstein, city alderman, son of Governor
Baron Hohenstein, formerly an officer in the army, was a
common thief....
" They are happy, these Catholics! And if they commit
murder, they still can find somebody to whom they can tell
it. I wonder how they ever have the courage? I could not
tell any man, even if his lips were sealed by the holiest of
holy oaths. Only the dead keep secrets. I wish I were
dead."
He went on, and unconsciously his steps bore him to the
bridge. He went out on the bridge, until he was at an equal
distance from either bank, and the lights which were here
and there reflected on the water. There he leaned over the
railing and looked down into the deep, dark waters, as they
glided by, gently, gently, now and then boiling up in little
whirlpools, reckless, irresistible, incessant, mysterious, like
death! Yes, there was true secrecy! And yet, did not even
the stream betray secrets when it washed the suicide's corpse
on shore, a few miles below, amid the reeds and rushes, so
that the fishermen could drag it out with their vile hooks?
and then a few hours later, the town would be full of reports
how Alderman Hohenstein had been found; how he had
thrown himself into the river to escape disgrace; how the
river had cast him out again, unwilling to keep him...
The alderman started once more to struggle back again




68           XThe House of Hohenstein.
to his house, through the silent street. When he was quite
near his home, however, a sudden, fearful apprehension
seized him: suppose the police were waiting for him in the
house?-suppose a couple of strong men should throw themselves upon him and gag him, as soon as he should open the
door! With beating heart and cold perspiration on his burning brow, he crept nearer and nearer, clinging to the dark shade
of the convent wall and glancing timidly across at his house.
All was silent there; not a shadow was passing across the
white curtains, lighted up from within. In the garret, also,
from Wolfgang's chamber, a faint glimmer was seen. Not a
sound could be heard; only the night-watch called out midnight from the convent near by.
The watchman must not find him at so late an hour in the
street! He quickly entered the house, and breathed freely,
as he found himself at last in his library with the door securely locked.
Fortunately, Ursula had left the loaf of white bread and
the bottle of wine on the table before the sofa. The unfortunate man needed refreshment; he had scarcely eaten or
drank anything during the whole day; but even now he found
it impossible to eat; he only drank the wine eagerly. Then
hearing the watchman's steps at the corner of the street, he
quickly put out his light, and went to bed in the dark. He
was so tired, his limbs almost refused to carry him, and yet
sleep would not come to his eyes. As soon as he became
drowsy, some horror or other arose before his mind's eye:
lawyer Kattebolt, who offered him scornfully a handful of
new paper money, issued by the town authorities; Chief Burgomaster Dasch, who turned his eyes and lifted his arms to
heaven-and he was sitting up once more in his bed, listening to the ticking of the hall-clock, and the low creaking of
the vane on the nearest church-steeple. Then he remembered that he had not examined his pistols for a long time,
and that the caps might have become useless. He rose, took
the little round box from the drawer, and renewed the caps.
The certainty of being able at any moment to take his
own life, and to leave his pursuers only a dead body on
which to wreak their vengeance, at last brought him a little
more quiet towards morning, and with it the long-desired
sleep.




The House of Hohenstein.          169
It was nearly noon when he awoke.    He felt much
stronger. He was not quite as conscious of the load of his
crime, and evidently began to get accustomed to the burden.
He made his toilet with scrupulous neatness, ate his breakfast with unusual appetite, and looked over the newspapers
with his old interest.
"Did you see, sir, the letter I put on your writing-table
last night?" asked Ursula, as she was taking away the
breakfast things.
"No. I suppose it was nothing of importance."
The alderman had said this in a tone of indifference, but
he had started at the word "letter," as if he had stepped
upon a snake. A letter is a grievous thing for a man whose
conscience is not clear. The alderman held the newspaper
close before his face, till Ursula had left the room.  Then
he hastened with two steps to the writing-table. His heart
beat high. There was the letter-a glance at the coarse
paper, folded up in the most old-fashioned manner, and
scrawled over with strangely stiff and ornate letters, told him
at once that it came from the old general at Rheinfeld.
What did he want? -To inquire after his son, whose sickness he had reported to him yesterday? That would be a
great, a very significant compliment-especially now, when
the old man's good-will was of such vast importance.
He opened the letter with trembling hands and read:
DEAR NEPHEW!-The news of your wife's recovery was
very pleasing to me, whereas I hear with deilaisir that your
son Wolfgang is reported on the sick-list, which I relish all
the less, as I take an interest in the boy and mean to grant
him my protection. Wherefore I have written yesterday to
your brother Gisbert, directing him to give Wolfgang a place
in his regiment. I desire also a union between your boy and
your brother Philip's youngest daughter, as the monkeys are
handsome and well-made, and their family may do honor to
the Hohensteins. Wherefore, I shall write to your brother
Philip, informing him also of my intentions, which he will
no doubt accept with cheerfulness, considering that he is a
sly fox, and knows very well which are sweet grapes, and
which are sour. And thus I am,
Your affectionate uncle,
EBERHARD, BARON HOHENSTEIN, of Rheinfeld.
8




170            The House of Hohenstein.
While the alderman was painfully deciphering these lines,
the trembling of his hands spread over his whole body; his
pale cheeks flushed up, his deep-sunk, lack-lustre eyes began
to shine... Here was rescue I rescue from his grim despair! At least a prospect, a near, almost certain, prospect
of rescue.
The poor man tottered to a chair, holding the letter in his
hand, and tears, such as he had not wept since his childhood,
broke from his eyes. In that deep emotion, caused mainly
by nervous weakness and bodily exhaustion, he vowed, if
he should this time escape from utter ruin, to become a good
man, an affectionate husband, a loving father, and an upright, fair-dealing man of business.
But this tender emotion did not last long. He might
become pious when he was perfectly safe, and that was yet
afar off. As yet he had nothing but hope, possibility, perhaps a fair prospect-and perhaps not so much even as that!
If Wolfgang should refuse to enter into the old man's views?
Wolfgang had never shown the slightest fondness for a soldier's profession; on the contrary, during his service in the
army he had constantly complained of the countless little
annoyances and useless exactions to which he had been
subjected. And then! Wolfgang was a very independent
character, not easily dazzled by appearances-might not his
beautiful cousin have failed to attract him? It had almost
looked so, the alderman thought, during their recent visit at
Rheinfeld. And then the boy's liberal notions! His undisguised antipathy to his noble relations and the unmistakable respect which he showed for his uncle Peter Schmitz
and his aunt Bella! Finally, his intimacy with Munzer, of
whom he always spoke with great respect and sincere esteem
-in terms most offensive to his father... No, no! nothing
was certain as yet; everything in a state of painful, harassing
doubt.
The alderman rose from his chair and walked up and
down in the room, unable to summon courage to face his
wife, whom he had not seen for two days now, and to speak
to Wolfgang, who, as Ursula reported, had been engaged for
an hour in a most lively conversation with her mistress.




The House of Hohenstein.          I7I
CHAPTER XXI.
W      HEN Wolfgang, at noon on the second day after his
return from Rheinfeld, awoke from a deep, dreamless, and most refreshing sleep, his disease was
broken, and he had escaped the threatened danger. At
first he could not recollect where he was, nor how he
came there; and why his mother, who sat by his side, should
bend over him with bright tears of joy in her sweet, gentle
eyes.
"Have I really been sick, mamma?" he said, returning
her kisses and her caresses.
"Very sick," replied his mother; "for two bad days you
have frightened your mamma, but now all is right again; the
doctor, who was here an hour ago, says all is right, and you
waked up with bright, clear eyes, darling-but now you must
lie still, very quiet, and must not talk and excite yourself, or
you will be sick again, my darling."
Wolfgang sank back on his bed. His mother smoothed
his pillows, rose to let down the curtain through which the
bright noonday sun was shining, sat down again by his bedside, took one of his hands in her own, and smiled kindly at
him with loving eyes.
As he was lying there, silently enjoying his new lease of
life, half awake and half in a dream, the memory of the last
days passed in clear, well-defined images before his quiet
soul. And in the foreground of all these pictures he saw
the graceful, slender form of a marvellously beautiful girl,
who seemed now to turn towards him with playful merriment,
and now to escape from him with timid shyness, while at
last she falls, full of love and demanding love, on his bosom.
And suddenly a dark cloud arises and blots out all the
bright, sunny pictures; the girl, whose beating heart he has
but just felt warm and loving near his own, tears herself
from his arms and vanishes in the depths of the park,
which changes into the sandy road along the river-side, on
which the rattling carriage of old Moss drags him slowly,
slowly-as if he were never to reach his father's house, where
his dear sick mother lies anxiously waiting for him. And




172            The House of Hohenstein.
again in the dim light of the sick-room the form of another
girl steps forward, a girl hardly less beautiful than the first
one in the park at Rheinfeld, a girl whose noble, simple
appearance appeals to him like a song of his childhood-of
his childhood.
" That is very strange," says Wolfgang, looking up at his
mother.
" What is strange, darling?"
"I feel as if I had known Ottilia long since-as if she
were the sister I always wanted to have when I was playing
before your bed, and the sofa cushions would not answer
any of my questions."
Margaret's eyes shone brightly, as she was bending over
her darling son.
"Then you felt just as I did," she said; " I have not been
able to shake off the same feeling since my eyes first beheld
the sweet child. I always feel since as if I had two children. She was here again yesterday, with Aunt Bella, and so
sorry to hear you were sick-poor child, as if she had not sorrow enough of her own! She comforted me so sweetly:
"To-morrow I'll be here again," she said, " and I'll make Wolfgang get well again; and then, when he is quite strong once
more, I'll come every day and sit here at the window by
you; it is so still and cool here, and the old trees look so
cosily over the old wall there-it is too pretty here."  And
her soft sweet voice sounded so gentle, like the low twittering
of swallows in early spring."
"Of my childhood-of my childhood," said Wolfgang,
dreamily, to himself.
" And do you know, darling," began his mother once more,
tenderly stroking his hands, " that in your wanderings you
have spoken of hardly anything else but Ottilia? that you
held long conversations with her?"
"With Ottilia?" asked Wolfgang, and his pale cheeks
flushed up; "are you quite sure I spoke of Ottilia and to
Ottilia?"
"I should think so," said Margaret, smiling; "at least
you spoke her name often enough."
" Strange! strange!" murmured Wolfgang.
" What is there so strange in that? " asked his mother;
"but here we are chatting and chatting, and the doctor says




The House of IHohenstein.        173
you must be kept perfectly quiet.  I am a nice nurse.
There, now lie still and don't open your lips."
" No, no! " replied Wolfgang, warmly; " let us chat. I feel
perfectly well, and have so much to tell you."
"What is it, darling?" said Margaret.
Wolfgang opened his arms and drew his mother to the
edge of his bed, as he used to do when he was a child,
whenever he wanted to confide to her his childish and boyish secrets; and just as trustingly he now confided to his
beloved mother his last great secret, the secret of his love for
Camilla: at first with much hesitation and many blushes;
but when the great word had once been spoken out, full of
life and of eloquence, as was his habit. He told her all the
little details of his brief romance, all his hopes and doubts,
his apprehensions, and all that had filled his noble heart, and
occupied his active mind to overflowing, during the last eventful days.
" Now I have made my full confession, dearest mamma,"
he concluded, "and now you must tell me if you are pleased;
for until I know that, I cannot be perfectly happy, however
I may desire to be happy."
Margaret did not at once reply, because it was simply impossible for her to give a direct yes or no to his questionher soul was so full of conflicting sensations. At first and
above all, she had felt jealousy of the happy woman to whom
she would henceforth have to give up the heart that had so
long been her own exclusively. But no one could well
measure the depth of her grief at such a loss, who did not
know how wretchedly unhappy the poor woman was in her
married life, and how she had sought all her happiness and
her sole comfort upon earth in this one darling son. She
had enjoyed his love, as a poor summer-plant, that has long
been kept in a dim, musty room, enjoys light and warmth during the short moments when the sun shines upon its pale
leaves; and now she was to be deprived of the only, the
greatest treasure God had given her. For Margaret had
never given her love by halves, and Wolfgang was the child
of her heart; of course Margaret did not remember that he
was a man, and that men's hearts feel differently from the
half-broken heart of a lonely, ill-used woman.
But this jealousy was only the first involuntary impulse of




174            The House of Hohenstein.
her heart, like the low, painful ring of a harp when it is suddenly jarred. Then she was overcome by her deep-rooted,
long-cherished fear of that family with whom she had come
into contact only as the lamb comes in contact with the
wolves. This fear was almost a superstition with her. She
dreaded this hard, proud, cruel family, who had forced her
husband to drink the cup of humiliation and contempt to
the very dregs-who had done everything in their power,
by their hostile, repulsive condut, to alienate him from her.
She looked upon this family as the embodiment of all those
qualities in her husband which she had been unable to admire as a young loving wife, and which she had seen every
year more clearly were the dark shadows upon his bright
soul. And in this family her son, her true, honest, tenderhearted son, hoped to find the wife of his bosom! Don't do
it, don't do it! called a voice in her heart.
And then, would not such a marriage tear forever the
slight tie which bound her yet to her own family? Would her
brother Peter-so deeply injured, so carefully avoided, and
yet so very dear to her-would he not be justified now in saying
what he had once told her with tears in his eyes: "that
she had severed all ties with her blood-relations in the world
and in her heart? " And just in these days she had cherished the hope that she might be able to show her brothers
and sisters, in the affection she felt for her new niece, how
fondly she was yet attached to them all!
But on the other hand, might not thus the curse be removed under which she had suffered so sorely; that she,
and she alone, had alienated her husband from his family,
had torn him from his career, and had made him the unhappy man he had so often bitterly stated himself to be.
Ought she for a moment to think of her own interests? And
above all, if Wolfgang should really find there that happiness which she wished so anxiously he might obtain, could
she doubt for a moment what was her duty under such
circumstances?
Still it was a very painful smile which played around
Margaret's lips, as she raised her eyes, and looking at Wolfgang with a most affectionate glance, said in a low voice:
" My darling boy, you cannot be happy without my being
pleased, and I cannot be pleased unless you are happy.




The House of Hohenstein.         175
Love your Camilla then, and be happy; only, Wolf, you must
keep a little love for your poor mamma! "
The tears gushed from her eyes as she said the last
words, and sobbing, she hid her face in her son's bosom.
"You have something else in your heart, mamma dear,"
said Wolfgang; " you are not quite pleased with me! Speak
out, mamma. Did you not always boast you could tell me
everything? Pray, pray, dearest mamma, tell me all that
you think. Your heart ought to be as light to-day as mine
is. What is it? "
"Nothing, really nothing!" said Margaret, rising again
and drying her tears. " You are good and you are clever;
and if you say Camilla loves you, she must be a good girl,
and no doubt will do all she can to become more and more
worthy of you. And your father will be so glad; he loves
you tenderly, and would like so much to see you live more
comfortably than he has been able to do. He was so much
pleased with the good news you wrote us from Rheinfeld,
and that granduncle was so kind to you, and the aunt and all
of them.'That boy will go further than I went,' he said
again and again. He' is now on a better footing with Uncle
Gisbert and Uncle Philip; but-I do not know why-I cannot reconcile myself to the thought that your relations really
mean it well with us, or believe that they would not draw
back again as soon as we took them in earnest. And how
that would hurt your father! and what would then become
of you, my poor boy? "
"Oh, I have more courage!" said Wolfgang, cheerfully.
"They will say yes and amen, you may be sure! That old
granduncle of mine, first of all "-and he now told her more
fully how very gracious the old gentleman had been to-him
during the whole time and down to the last moments, and
that he had dismissed him with the words: Mean to do
something for you, my boy; won't be to your harm, if you
obey my wishes. "Now, darling mother, one hand washes
the other. If our relations, who have lived so long at war
with us, wish to make peace with us, they must pay for their
peace, and the price of peace is Camilla, and they shall and
will pay that price."
Wolfgang was in the happiest state of mind, and his mother
was too mucl accustomed to feel happy herself, when she




176            The House of Hohenstein.
saw her son happy, not to fall in now with his cheerfulness.
She smiled upon him kindly as he built his magnificent
castles in the air, and at last, wearied by much talking,
turned his head on one side, and, still holding his mother's
hand in his own, fell gently asleep.
Margaret sat for some time in the sunny stillness, thinking
over in her deeply-moved soul all that had been discussed
just now. Then she rose cautiously, kissed the sleeper on
his brow, and left the room noiselessly. She was desirous to
carry the news-which she knew would be most welcome
news-to her husband, who had had so much care and anxiety during these last days.
The alderman was just on the point of coming upstairs,
with the old gentleman's letter in his breast pocket, and was
just opening the door to go out, when a.gentle knock came,
and his wife entered the room.
Margaret ran up to him and wound her arms around his
neck.
"I have not seen you for so long a time, Arthur! " she
said, as if apologizing for an act of tenderness which, to be
sure, was not of very frequent occurrence in this household.
Baron Hohenstein had returned his wife's caresses with
unusual warmth. He felt an anxious desire to have his
wife on his side in this most important game, which had put
such excellent cards in his hand. He knew but too well
how much influence she had over Wolfgang.
"Very long, Margie," he said, placing his arm around her
youthful, slender waist, leading her to the sofa and sitting
down by her side. "Yes, these have been bad days for
me; and probably for you too, poor child! First you must
be sick, and then Wolfgang! But you are all right again,
both of you, are you not?"
"Better, at least," replied Margaret, heartily grateful for
her husband's kindness, and pressing his hand to her lips. " I
think-well, we have just had a long, long talk with each
other, Wolfgang and I."
Margaret smiled and looked at her husband half anxiously
and half playfully. She was so little used to find him her
confidant, she hardly knew how to adapt herself to the
new position, although she felt quite sure that the news she
had to give him would be pleasant and welcome.




The House of Hohenstein.         177
"A long talk!" said the alderman; " and if I may ask
without indiscretion, what was the subject?"
Margaret blushed and looked as maidenly and bashful in
her embarrassment as if she had to confess her own love
affairs.
" You make me quite curious," said the alderman. " What
was it?"
"I have to tell you a great piece of news, Arthur."
" So have I, dear Margie," he replied.  "Do you speak
first, or we shall never begin."
There was again the old heartless tone that had made
Margie so often unhappy. She felt suddenly as if she could
not tell this man what she had just heard-the secret of her
son's heart, the hopes of her idol. And yet, her husband
looked so pale, so worn out; he had no doubt had great
cares weighing him down, and needed some joy to restore
him.
" It is only this, Arthur," Margaret said, making an effort
which drove all the blood to her cheeks, "Wolfgang has
made greater conquests at Rheinfeld than we thought, and
of which he wrote us nothing.'He has not only won the
good-will of the general, but the president's wife also has
treated him with much distinction, and Camilla-well, I must
come out with it, and I hope you will not be displeased, but
Camilla is in love with Wolfgang..."
" And Wolfgang?" asked the alderman, hastily, and pale
with excitement. "And Wolfgang? "
"He likes her also pretty well," replied Margaret, who
could not utter the words, "he loves her."
"That is good news indeed!" cried the alderman, embracing his wife-this time without any affectation. "But now
you shall hear my news also. Look here! from the old manhis own handwriting-you must not mind the words-such
an old gentleman uses at times strange language-well,
what do you say? Is not that lucky?"
"Yes-but," said Margaret.
"What But? No But! " exclaimed the alderman, who
had risen, and was walking up and down with long strides.
"If the old man Says yes, the others cannot say no. I
know them."
"But, Arthur," said Margaret, timidly; "there the letter
8*




178            The House of Hohenstein.
says something more, and something else. Wolfgang is to
become a soldier."
" How you talk! " exclaimed the alderman. "A soldier!
As if it was Tom, Dick, and Harry! He is to be an officer,
as I was, and as I still might be, if  "
Baron Hohenstein swallowed the end of the sentence, for
he saw the tears start in Margaret's eyes, and he was not
yet able to see her cry without being troubled.
" Be sensible, Margie," he said, sitting down again by her
side, "and do not interfere with our plans, I pray you?
You know how very important it is for me to be fully reconciled to my family. I cannot tell you how very, very anxious
I feel about it just now. Yes, it is of such importance to
me, that if this reconciliation should not be effected-if
Wolfgang should be so very unkind as to abandon me in the
hour of trouble-well, well, I did not mean to cause you any
anxiety, child! But you must stand by me. Wolfgang must
be won over; you must help me, and all may come right
again; yes, all may yet come right again!"
Baron Hohenstein was in a state of very great excitement.
The old gambler was aroused in him. Was it not exactly as
at the faro-table? Yesterday he had lost everything.  Today he had won it all back. He had gone through the same
thing so often! He had been so often on the point of blowing out his brains! And each time, by some means or other,
he had escaped the worst. Why should it be different this
time, to-day, when, after the unlucky turn of the cards last
night, card after card came out in his favor."
" I'll go up at once to Wolfgang! " he said.
"Please, dear Arthur, not just now," said Margaret.
"Wolfgang had just fallen asleep when I left him to come
down here. He is still very feeble. I fear it might be too
much for him."
"As you like! as you like!" replied the alderman.
"You can speak to him first! Or no, better let me do it.
You might become sentimental, both of you, and then I
would have twice as much trouble. I have to go out now,
Margie. You need not keep dinner waiting for me. And
one other thing, Margie: they tell me your relatives have
been here yesterday and to-day. I cannot permit that. Now,
when all eyes are upon me and every step of mine is watched,




The House of Holkenstein.        179
I cannot afford to have republican relations with River
street."
" But, Arthur! " replied Margaret, " is not that quite hard?
My brother died a week ago, and I am not to be allowed to
see my brother's child?"
"Oh, indeed!" said Baron Hohenstein  "Pray, excuse
me! I had really forgotten that. But nevertheless, the
question here is about weightier matters than trifling family
sentimentality. Good-by, Margie!"
The alderman had arranged his cravat before the mirror;
he had brushed his hat and was looking at his watch.
"Great heavens! Half past eleven! It is high time I
should be gone, if I want to see the colonel. Good-by,
Margie!"
He kissed his hand to his wife, and hastened out at the
door.
Margaret followed slowly. She locked the door mechanically and hung the key in its usual place, and then came back
once more, because she had forgotten already whether she
had locked it or not. She was almost stunned by all she
had heard. Only this she knew, that a great gulf had opened
between her and her son's father, so that the timid, loving
arms which she extended towards him, no longer reached
across; and only this she feared, that this gulf might separate her from her son also. That was the most painful
thought for poor Margaret; and as she slowly, slowly went
up the long staircase, the tears came, drop by drop, rolling
down her pale cheeks one by one.
— o —




80o            The House of ffohenstein.
PART       SECOND.
CHAPTER I.
ARON WILLAMOWSKI, I think you are decidedly
brighter to-day than usual."
" Do you really think so-? " said the young officer,
casting a languishing look at the object of his admiration.
"Certainly! Unfortunately, however, I am not equal today to so very clever a conversation. Besides, mamma has
sent for me. You must please excuse me."
Camilla rose from the seat at the window, where she had
been so deeply engrossed in an embroidery that she seemed
hardly to have listened to the harmless conversation between
her sister and the young officer of dragoons, swept by them
without deigning them a look, yet so close that her silk dress
touched his sharp knees, and disappeared the next moment
through the tall folding-doors which led from the receptionroom into her mother's own apartment.
" But, mon Dieu, what does she mean?" said Willamowski,
after a short pause, during which Aurelia's black eyes had
highly enjoyed his amazed air. "For heaven's sake, Miss
Aurelia, don't laugh, but tell me what it means?"
Aurelia shrugged her white shoulders.
"I fear your part is -played out, dear Willamowski —at
least for a time. You will have to add this illusion perdue
to the others."
"Ah bah," said the lieutenant.
"Do you smoke, dear Willamowski? " asked Aurelia.
"Why do you ask? "
"Don't you see, Willamowski, that charming embroidery,
evidently intended for a cigar-holder!-silver and blue on a
neutral ground-our colors, Willamowski-that is nice and
significative, n'est-ce pas," and the reckless girl displayed
Camilla's work in the bright noonday sun.




The House of Hohenstein.         18I
"But Camilla knows as well as you do that I do not
smoke."
" Certainly, and therefore this embroidery is not for you."
"But for whom, then? For Cuno?"
"Pshaw! She hates Cuno, 1 tell you."
"That is what I thought, too. But if it is not Cuno,
then    "
"Then it must be somebody else. Seriously speaking,
Willamowski, come this way, close to the window, and don't
speak quite so loud, or they will hear us. There is something going on here, which I but just begin to suspect.
They do not trust me, and they are right, for I hate these
secret ways, and I am tired of seeing Camilla always favored
at my expense; and I mean, hereafter, to go my own way.
As soon as I have found it out, you shall know it, Willamowski, for I like you, because you are a good fellow, who
don't mind a couple of louis if you can give a poor girl a
pleasure, and because you dance the polka so wonderfully
well, and because your new little Americaine with the beautiful black horse goes so smoothly. I think you would make
an excellent brother-in-law, and I patronize you, therefore,
rather than Cousin Cuno, who is growing yellower and more
disagreeable every day, and who, besides, would be a bad
match. But, as I tell you, at this moment your chances
are no better than his; we are looking after somebody else
with our love-sick eyes. Time brings counsel. And now
get away, or you'll be angry in good earnest, and your lady is
knocking her fore-shoes to pieces on the pavement. Apropos
of lady! are you really going to exchange her for Brinkman's sorrel?  And why was not Brinkman at parade
to-day?"
" He is on the sick list; but I know he is sitting with that
painter, Kettenberg, before a May-bowl in Catalini's garden."
"Les scdlrats I You had better go there, too, dear Willamowski and follow the example of my admirers in their
happy harmony. Kettenberg is a real blessing for you.
He has taught you new figures for your German; he has
brought you new receipts for making punch; he has introduced tableaux in our society; enfin, he has declared that
Camilla is the most beautiful of president's daughters, and
that I am the most amiable."




182           The House of Hohenstein.
"That you are, upon honor, that you are!" cried the
officer, carrying the young lady's hand daintily to his thin
lips.
"You too, Willamowski? Have you still illusions to
lose?"
The officer of dragoons had hardly taken leave, making
much ado with his spurs and his sabre, when the mother
swept in from the adjoining room.
"What did he say?" she asked, with a pointed look at the
door. " He was here a long time."
" Why did not you ask him yourself? He gave you time,"
replied Aurelia.
"Is that an answer?" asked mamma, stepping up to the
window and looking through her glasses after Willamowski's
carriage.
"Why not? If I am not good enough to be entrusted
with your secrets, I am too good, in all conscience, to be
your spy."
" I believe you are dreaming, Aurelia," said the mother,
turning from the window towards the room.
"Oh, dear mamma," said Aurelia with great animation;
"I am not quite as dull and as stupid as you think. Or do
you imagine I find it all right and proper that it is Camilla,
and again and again Camilla, for whom everything is done?
-that Camilla may remain at Rheinfeld and worm herself
into granduncle's favor, while I have to stay here in town,
and am at best permitted to execute all your commissions?
Do you imagine I do not know what it means, when Camilla sends off all her admirers, one by one, and makes cigarholders with our colors "
The young girl was going to say much more, but her voice
was smothered by the tears, which came very easily when
the topics under consideration were not suited for extravagant laughter. She threw herself into a corner of the sofa
and pressed her face into the cushions.
The daughter's sobs were a signal for the mother to break
out in tears.
"That is the reward of my kindness," she said, sinking
into an arm-chair and holding her handkerchief to her eyes;
"nothing but care and anxiety and ingratitude-poor me,
unhappy woman that I am! "




The House of Hohenstein.         I83
"And I won't submit to it," sobbed Aurelia from her corner; "I'll marry the first one who offers. Nobody minds
what I do."
"Poor me! My children will bring me into the grave,"
sobbed the president's wife behind her lace handkerchief.
"Ahem, ahem! " said somebody, who had entered unnoticed by the ladies, and favored by the thick rug on which he
now stood in the centre of the room, directly under the
chandelier. "Ahem!"
The ladies started up.
"Ah, doctor, is it you?" exclaimed the mother, smiling
through her tears, and offering the little man her fat hand,
covered with rings, in which she still held her handkerchief.
"You come just in time!"
" So I see," said the doctor, kissing the great lady's hand
with affected politeness. "The ladies were bursting with
laughter! Why, you have tears in your eyes! what on
earth was there so very laughable? Well, well, I do not
mean to be indiscreet! But, Miss Aurelia, permit me to
remind you that you promised me to go down into the garden at this hour, and there to walk about a little in the
bright sunshine. We shall come down and join you presently. Make haste, dear Miss Aurelia! "
And the gallant old gentleman kissed his hand to Aurelia, who hastened to take the hint; he then laid aside his
hat and his cane and sat down in an arm-chair, close by the
president's wife.
Doctor Snepper, physician and member of the provincial
government council, was a thin little man, of perhaps sixty,
with a smooth-shaven face which was by no means improved
by a pair of small gray eyes, searching and cunning, beneath
bushy brows, and by the sarcastic smile which was continuallyplaying around his thin compressed lips. The left shoulder of the little man was considerably higher than his right,
and perhaps this defect was one of the reasons why the old
gentleman took such particular pains with his costume.
Doctor Snepper stroked his thin legs, and taking a pinch
from a gold snuff-box, and fixing his piercing gray eyes on
the embarrassed face of the corpulent lady, he said:
"What was the matter, madam? Anything of importance?"




I84            The House of Hohenstein.
"Oh no, dear doctor! Aurelia charges me with favoring
Camilla, and such a thing —"
"Is painful, especially when it is true; of course; but
you are right; Camilla is an angel. But never mind such
childish things. I have a whole budget of news for you."
" Let us hear them, dear Snepper," said the lady, settling
comfortably down in her chair. "I am all ear, as usual!"
"In the first place, then," said the little man, smelling his
snuff-box, "a bad piece of news; the finances of papa
Willamowski are by no means as brilliant as we have been
led to believe. I have it from the best authority."
"You don't say so!"
"Hm! You seem to take it very coolly. I only hope
Miss Camilla will not cry her pretty eyes out."
" You may be sure of that. But it is astonishing what an
instinct I have in such matters. Will you believe me, dear
doctor, I said only day before yesterday, at Rheinfeld:' You
will see, Camilla,' said I,'Stillfried spends too much money,
his father cannot stand it long.'"
" You did? Hm! At Rheinfeld you said so, and night
before last, just before leaving? Probably the excellency
has made some promises? Eh?    And our faith in these
promises, which will never be kept, gives us this philosophic
calmness. Eh?"
The lady smiled with infinite self-complacency, while she
stroked the long silken ears of her little spaniel, which had
come out from under the sofa, and after stretching his legs,
had gone to rest once more in the lap of his mistress.
"You are my friend, Snepper, and Camilla's friend; I can
tell you. The old excellency has made us promises, great
promises. Even more than that; Camilla may consider herself the chief heir, if she fulfils one condition, which indeed-I will be perfectly candid, dear Snepper; you will
hear it, after all, and I should like to have your advice on the
subject. The condition is, that she should marry her cousin
Wolfgang, the alderman's son. Be quiet, Joli! "
Eyes sharper than those of the president's wife, which
were not accustomed to observe much from under their heavy
eyelids, would have noticed that the doctor's pale face had
become several shades paler during these last words.
"Ah!" he said. "Hm! That explains several things.




The House of Hohenstein.          I85
For instance the alderman's sudden solvency; perhaps also
his sudden conversion. And you think the plan can be carried out?"
"Mais pourquoi pas, dearest Snepper."
" It might possibly shipwreck on the simple fact that Master Wolfgang will not live many days."
"Great God!" exclaimed the lady, so loud, that Joli in his
fright fell from her lap, and in order to vent his wrath upon
somebody, savagely barked at the president, who had just
come home from a meeting of the Board, and, hat in hand,
entered the salon.
" Only think, Philip, Wolfgang-lay your hat aside, don't
you see Joli is afraid of the hat-is going to die to-day!
There you see why he did not come yesterday to see us.
Hush, Joli! you will ruin my nerves completely-ah! poor
me!. Has the whole world conspired to-day to torment me?"
The president seemed to be somewhat taken aback by this
reception. However, not a trace of his feelings was to be
perceived in the low tone of his soft voice, as he said to the
doctor, taking a seat between him and his wife:
" Srieusement, dear colleague! what is the matter with
Wolfgang?"
The doctor had had time, in the meanwhile, to' consider
that this was by no means the best moment to speak of a certain
plan of his, for which the consent of Camilla's parents was
essential, and that he'must continue to play the part of a
friend of the family for some time longer. Besides, it was
important first to learn all the details of the plan which the
incautious lady had just betrayed to him, and therefore he
said with his usual smile:
"Serieusement! the thing is fortunately not quite so serious
as your good lady has been pleased to represent it in her
maternal anxiety. If I had known before that there'exist
such very intimate relations between your family and your
brother's-which could not be suspected by the uninitiatedI should certainly have taken care not to pain the tender
heart of my honored friend. I only spoke of a possibility;
by no means of a plausible thing, and least of all of a certainty. Your young and-I must confess-very charming
nephew, was night before last attacked by a fever, which
was probably the effect of the shock when he suddenly heard




I86           The House of Hohenstein.
of his mother's illness, combined with a cold he caught during his night journey to town from Rheinfeld in an open
carriage. The fever seemed at first to assume a malignant
form, but the young man's excellent constitution gives us
reason to hope that he will recover in a very short time.
His mother is perfectly well again, and nurses him herself.
You see, therefore, that if there should be nowhere else an
error in calculo in your plans, death will certainly not be so
rude as to interfere."
"Dear friend," said the president, and his voice sounded
softer than ever; " I confess I should not have spoken of
the matter-not because I do not trust you, our dear old
friend, who thinks exactly as we do-"
Here the two gentlemen bowed most politely to each
other; the doctor said, moreover, " Ahem," and took a small
pinch.
" But because I do not like to speak of plans and projects which are perfectly uncertain, as is the case here.
Pardon me, dear Clotilda, that I am, for once, not of your
opinion; but tell me yourself what guaranty have we that
it will ever be carried out? A few vague allusions, made by
our uncle, which you-I pray you, dear Clotilda, do not become excited!-which you may possibly have valued at more
than their actual worth. We do not even know if this
Wolfgang, who has been represented to me as a very eccentric young man, has not changed his mind again, or if his
low-born relatives in River street do not put their veto upon
it. And then, I cannot deny that I do not trust the alderman, although he seems to be stronger than we thought. I
have no faith in his solvency. But just think, dear Clotilda!just think, dear colleague! how horrible our condition would
be if the general should drop Wolfgang again, or if the
young man, acting under the influence of the plebeian tendencies which he has no doubt inherited from his mother,
should abandon us. I shudder at the mere thought."
"Dear Philip," said his wife, who had exhibited various signs
of great impatience during her husband's explanation; " I
am too much accustomed to see you defeat my plans, to wonder at this moment at your opposition to a project which has
unfortunately originated in my head. You know best how
cautious, how calm I am, and how little I am inclined to




The House of Hohenstein.         187
treat such matters as matters of sentiment; but here, at least,
my maternal heart has something to say. The children love
each other; I am convinced of that. The general is crazy
about Wolfgang; and oh! Rheinfeld is so beautiful! The
rooms are rather damp and not in the best taste, butethat can
be easily mended, if we do not mind a few dollars; and as
for myself, I shall find it such a relief to pay a visit to my
children in the country, from time to time-but, to be sure,
you do not mind whether we are happy or not, or I should
think you knew best that our circumstances —"
"What do you say, dear colleague?" said the president,
placing his hand for a moment lightly on the doctor's
knee.                 A
The little man had appeared to be lost in deep thought
during the whole conversation, slowly turning the gold snuffbox between the fore-finger and the thumb of the left hand,
and before he could make a reply, the door opened once
more-to Joli's repeated horror and indignation-and in
rushed the colonel's wife, exclaiming even before she had
crossed the threshold:
"Well, that is nice, to find you dear ones all together
here! Oh, mon Dieu / I have walked so fast, I am quite out
of breath; but I wanted to tell you the great news. Well,
guess! But you can't guess it, and I will not torment you
any longer. Wolfgang is going to be an officer! Everything is settled. My husband is proud of the success of a
plan which he says he has long cherished; but I was the
first to conceive the plan, and I can say that I have taken
Wolfgang to my heart the first moment I saw him at Rheinfeld. And just think, our dear good uncle insists upon it
that he should enter our regiment, and he will provide for
his whole equipment. In a few days he will be gazetted as
ensign, then they will probably send him to Berlin into the
officer manufactory, and next autumn we shall have the
pleasure of seeing the new lieutenant once more in our
midst. Ah! but it is hot to-day! Could you send for a
glass of lemonade for me, dearest Clotilda? But, children,
you look quite dumbfounded! You are not jealous, I
hope, that our dear good uncle has written to us about Wolfgang? Good heavens! Was it not the most natural thing
in the world? And that is what the alderman said this




I88           The House of Hohenstein.
morning to my husband-please Florian-ah, your name is
Frederick-please, Frederick, order a glass of lemonade for
me downstairs-or no, never mind! I must go at once.
Good-by, children! and as I said, Clotilda-don't be angry,
child-the thing is as simple as it can be. Good-by, dear
doctor! console poor Clotilda. By the way, Wolfgang is
doing very well; I have just been there. He is a noble fellow. Good-by, children! Good-by, little doctor! "
And off rushed Selma, pursued by Joli with savage
barking, leaving the occupants of the room in a state of
great excitement. Clotilda broke out in tears; the president walked slowly up and down the room, as he was fond
of doing, his hands crossed behind him; and the doctor took
a pinch which would have made four under ordinary circumstances.
" To make this man Wolfgang an officer! " he whispered,
bending his gray little head on one side.
"Why is that so strange?" asked the lady, evidently irritated.
"Because-but we are nervous, dear friend. Let us break
off this conversation; perhaps you would like to take a
walk with your daughter. The promenade is crowded with
people. The town does not show that we are in the midst
of a revolution; and, dearest friend," the doctor walked close
up to the president's wife, who had risen in the meantime,
and said in a low whisper: " Do not let Aurelia see too
plainly that Camilla is our favorite; we might need the
young lady's assistance. Good-by! adieu, Joli! Au revoir!
Ahem! Now I must say good-by to you also, president.
We'll see each other to-night at the club, I hope?"
"Hardly! It is my wife's reception-day, you know. I
should like to say a few words to you, if you can spare the
time; but not here. Pray, let us go into my room; I always
feel as if here, in the ladies' rooms, the mirrors and the furniture had eyes and ears."
" I should not mind that-but if they had tongues!" said
the doctor, ironically.
The president smiled.
" Well, there would be no danger for you, the most discreet of men; but please take a seat, dear colleague, and
now tell me candidly, what do you think of tho project?"




The House of Hohenstein.         189
"Candidly, Mr. President, I think that, as matters stand,
you will have to consent to this highly romantic bargain.
No one can possibly be less pleased with this plan than I
am; but I must acknowledge that this time there is more in
it than a few pretty soap bubbles, which had their origin in
the small brains of the ladies. It is well known that the
alderman paid yesterday several notes for very large amounts.
Some of them happened to pass through my hands. Where
could he have gotten the money, if not from the old gentleman? But if the gray-haired Harpagon opens his strongbox, that means something; and if the colonel speaks of it
as an honor to have the young man in his regiment, and his
wife carries the news instantly from house to house-then we
can be quite sure that the general means it as a trump card."
" I confess I do not particularly like this plan, which is so
very far out of the way of established usage, and looks to me
almost like a revolutionary measure," said the president,
gently pressing the ends of his long, slender fingers.
" I can readily believe that," replied the doctor. " I also
would prefer a more substantial husband for the little one,
even if he should be somewhat older that she is."
The little man paused here for a moment, and cast a
searching glance at the tall form of the president, who was
again walking up and down with long strides. As the latter
made no reply to this remark, he continued in a slightly irritated tone:
"Camilla is a clever girl, and ought to choose wisely.
Aurelia will, if I am not mistaken, provide the necessary
amount of trouble which must be in every good family."
" You frighten me, my dear sir," said the president, pausing in his walk, " by talking so lightly of such serious matters. Have you any communication to make concerning
Aurelia?"
" Oh, no! By no means," said the doctor. "My opinion
of Miss Aurelia is formed rather upon physiological facts,
than from moral reasons. The young lady has a lively disposition. She resembles in this respect her beautiful aunt
Antonia. A propos, Mr. President, have you heard the last
extravagant exploit of the charming widow?"
" Again? " sighed the president; " that woman will make
me desperate yet with her follies!"




9go            The House of Hohenstein.
"Then you have not heard that night before last, during
the riot, the rabble was beginning to break her windows, and
that Munzer prevented the danger and was rewarded for
his gallantry by a delightful little supper tgte-d-tete9 You
never heard of all this?"
" Only that there had been some disturbance before her
house; but not a word of Munzer's interference. I am very
much obliged to you for this information; the matter seems
to be somewhat important. A supper, you say, and tete-dtate? But how did you hear it?"
"The beautiful widow told me so herself, only half an
hour ago, with all the details, and evidently to her own great
amusement."
"With all the details?" whispered the president.
The two gentlemen looked into each other's eyes for a
moment with a peculiar meaning in their glance.
" But what could have induced her to tell the secret to
you? " began the president once more.
" Because it is no longer a secret, since the colonel,
your brother, brutally interrupted the tete-d-tete-at eleven
o'clock-when other people go to bed-it is outrageous "
" Did she tell you that, too? "
" No! not she, but her valet Jean, who-he is a malicious
creature-did not send away the unwelcome visitor, and
therefore was sent away himself the same night. The
poor devil, who happens to be one of my clients, came this
morning to see me, and to tell me of his misfortune. He
wanted another place very badly."
" And could you get him one? "
"Not for the present. Just now I know of no family
where I could recommend the man!"
"Then send him to me!"
"To you?"
"Yes, my dear sir. Where is your far-famed ingenuity
to-day?  Do you not see that Chance has shuffled our
cards so well in this matter, we could not have done better
ourselves."
"I confess, to my shame, that I only suspect your combination. My head is a little weak this morning, and thenthis strange project, your charming Camilla-such a fabulous connection -"




The House of Hohenstein.         191
"Pshaw! " said the president, smiling; " that family matter must for the moment give way to affairs of state. The
thing is not pressing, besides; but in a week the elections
take place, and I think we should both of us find it uncomfortable if Munzer became our minister. Don't you think
so? "
The little doctor beat his forehead.
"Oh! how stupid I was! To be sure, to be sure! the
thing is of importance. But what do you mean to do?"
The president smiled.
" That I do not know yet myself. I only know that Munzer is a poet and an enthusiast; which means, he can be
tempted, and Antonia is the most seductive of sirens. But
there is my carriage coming for me. I am going to see the
governor; will you accompany me part of the way? We can
consider, on our way, how the thing is to be managed. But,
before I forget it, send me that man Jean to-day! will you?"
"Certainly "
" Eh bien, let us go then I Pray, pray, after you!"
CHAPTER II.
IT was a few hours later, when the president's carriage
drove up River street and stopped before Peter Schmitz's
house. The servant jumped down from the box and
opened the door; the president stepped out, casting a passing glance at the old, weather-beaten escutcheon with the
illegible inscription over the front-door, and at the signboard over the windows of the first story, on the left, on
which was inscribed in very legible and, as the president
thought, almost impudent letters: "Office of the People's
Journal." Cool as he was, the president could yet not quite
overcome a certain superstition and uncomfortable sensation,
as he ordered the coachman to drive off if he did not come
out again in five minutes. Suppose he should never come
out again! It would not have been the first horror that had
come to the family from this grim old house; although the




192           The House of Hohenstein.
last came in the shape of a beautiful girl-a girl almost as
beautiful as the one now looking out of the bay-window.
The president raised his hat almost involuntarily; the young
girl bowed slightly, and disappeared from the window. The
president entered the house.
" The office of the People's Journal is upstairs, first turn
to the right," proclaimed a paper pasted on the wall, on
which, besides, a gigantic hand with extended fore-finger
pointed up the fragile staircase which led to a gallery.
There, at various places, additional copies of the same gigantic hand guided the visitor "To the Editor's office." The
president went cautiously, as if he feared the creaking boards
might break under him, down the gallery; and the uncomfortable feeling which had overcome him at his entrance
into the house, grew stronger every moment.  He did
not remember ever in his life to have seen such a strange
house. He wondered what the immense hall could mean?
-whether the whole building would come down if the great
pillar that supported the ceiling in the centre of the hall
were taken out? The old legend of Samson, the ill-treated,
insulted slave, whose blind, desperate strength destroyed a
whole generation of his insolent masters by one great effort,
came into his mind-an uncomfortable reminiscence here in
the house of Peter Schmitz, the fanatical demagogue. The
president paused for a moment, it was so supernaturally
quiet in the large deserted hall; only through the wide-open
windows in the rear wall a steady rushing and roaring
sounded up from the court-yard-the printing presses were
at work there on the evening edition of the People's Journal,
perhaps on one of those sharp articles, steeped in bitterest
satire, and entitled, "In Presidentem," which for the last
few days had exposed his official administration with pitiless
criticisms. The president found out suddenly that his plan,
which led him almost unprepared into the very midst of the
enemy's camp, had perhaps been formed too rashly, andthere the carriage drove off! Stupid fellows! they have
not waited two minutes! But should he give it up now?
Why not? He could not find the editor's room! He had
not met anybody yet! The young girl at the window had
probably hardly noticed him.
At the moment when the president was on the point of




The House of Hohenstein.          193
turning back and of escaping with long, cautious steps, one
of the low doors on the gallery opened, and out came an
elderly lady, dressed in black like the young lady at the window, an embroidery pattern in her hand, and wearing around
her neck a long skein of blood-red knitting yarn. As she
was going towards the front rooms, and the gigantic hand
pointed towards the rear, the president did not see how he
could escape meeting her, unless he meant to run away altogether. He thought it wisdom, therefore, to look around
him searchingly, and to notice the lady at the instant when
she was only a step or two from him. He did so; he stepped
aside, and raising his hat he said very politely:
" Ah, madam! Perhaps you can tell me if this is the way
to Doctor Munzer's office?"
Aunt Bella stopped and fixed her piercing eyes with such a
peculiar sharp expression upon the new-comer, that the latter
involuntarily took off his hat altogether, as if he meant by
this manceuvre to induce the lady's dark eyes to assume a
less annoying expression. But the dark eyes looked only
sharper than ever at him, and there was no sweetness in Aunt
Bella's voice, when she at last replied:
" The editor's office is at the end of the gallery, Mr. President."
" Ah! " said Baron Hohenstein, with a graceful inclination.
"I have the honor of being known to you?"
"If you do not object to my knowing how my brother-inlaw's brother looks, yes! "
" Then I have the pleasure of addressing Miss Schmitz?"
"Arabella Schmitz! yes, Mr. President. I am afraid you
will find no one at the office but Doctor Holm. Doctor Munzer is apt to come late on Tuesdays; can I perhaps deliver
your message?"
At these words Aunt Bella's dark eyes looked more searching than ever. "I am very much obliged to you, Miss
Schmitz; but I prefer seeing Doctor Munzer myself; if you
permit me, I will wait a while in the office."
"As you like! " said Aunt Bella, and left him with an almost imperceptible bow of the head.
" Incidit in Scyllam! " murmured the latter, forced now to
go on. "What an impertinent, diabolical woman! I wish
I were outside again! Ah! there is the door at last! Doc9




194            The House of Hohenstein.
tor Holm? Oh, we were fellow-students, I believe, at Heidelberg. Have not seen him for many years. I suppose the
acquaintance must be renewed."
" Walk in!"
It was a deep, strange, bass voice that had called out:
"Walk in!" and a strange figure it was, too, which the president, when he entered, found sitting in the office on a little
table near the second window, and with his back to the entrance door: a large, broad-shouldered man, with a huge,
massive head, thickly covered with black, curly hair. As he
looked round at his visitor, he showed the latter a deadlypale face, set in a jet-black beard, incredibly savage-looking, with a pair of piercing, bloodshot eyes. The man wore,
in spite of the summerly spring day, a coarse, heavy friezecoat, and, as if to make amends for it, trousers of unbleached
linen. Around his muscular, bare neck, a blood-red cotton
handkerchief was loosely tied, and in his ears he wore small
brass rings.
"I wish to see Doctor Munzer," said the president.
"Not here yet!" replied the man in the frieze-coat; "very
busy when he is here!"
"I suppose so; and I do not mean to detain him long.
My name is President Hohenstein; with whom have I the
honor?"
The president had given his name, partly because he
thought he read in the piercing look of the small black,
bloodshot eyes a peremptory summons to explain himself,
and partly because he had for years been accustomed to
command respect from inferior people by announcing his
rank. The long-tried charm seemed, however, to have lost
its power in this case-perhaps even to have the opposite
effect. For the pale, bearded man made a strange grimace,
and a short, hoarse chuckle came from the depths of his
throat. He stared at the president, and then looked at his
proof-sheet; with which he was busy; then once more at the
president, like a detective who wishes to establish the identity'of a specially precious criminal by the most careful
comparison of the original with his description in a printed
placard. Finally, as if he was quite sure of his case, he
plunged into his work again.
The president repented more than ever his rashness,




The House of Hohenstein.          195
which had brought him into so painful a position. He felt
as if the air of the room, filled with the odor of fresh printing ink and damp paper, must stifle him-as if the walls
would crumble down and smother him-as if the parrots
and cockatoos on the wall-paper, with their huge beaks, were
making fun of him. At last his eye rested on a sheet of
paper, posted on a false door, on which the story of the
master of the house who goes out after the cats at night,
was illustrated in a series of comic pictures. The words,
"Blind zeal is hurtful," which were printed on it in large
letters, seemed to him to contain an unsuspected depth of
wisdom. The man in the frieze-coat seemed to ignore him
completely; he was bending over his work; nevertheless the
president could hardly bear his presence. He was too
odd looking, in all conscience. He wrote with his left hand,
evidently very awkwardly and with a great effort; his powerful frame shook constantly as if in high fever; and on his
face feverish glow and spectral pallor chased each other in
rapid succession. At the same time he groaned and wailed
very low, like a man suffering cruel pains, and then again he
would utter his short, hoarse laugh, like one who reads a
ludicrous book and does not mean to disturb others by his
own hilarity.
"Would you like to look at the leader in the evening
edition? "
The man in the frieze-coat offered the president the proofsheet, which he had just corrected. The latter, after having
read the ingenious fable of the cats six times over, had been
walking up and down the room with cautious steps, and was
not a little startled at the expression in the man's face at
that moment, so that he staggered back and made a declining gesture.
" Well, as you like it," said the man, grinning; "but the
article is well written; and as for the subject, there have been
worse counterfeits."
And the man took up a second proof-sheet, and began to
correct again.
" I'll not stay a moment longer," said the president to
himself; "not for a million."
At the moment when the president was laying his hand
on the door-knob, a step was heard outside on the wooden




I96            The House of Hohenstein.
gallery-the step of a man who puts down one foot very
tenderly, and the other very firmly, and keeps pace accurately with a stout cane. A tolerably good bass voice sang:
" In these sacred halls
Vengeance is unknown-"
Then, without previous inquiry, the door was pushed open,
and in walked Doctor Holm, in one hand his broad-brimmed yellow straw-hat and his cane, and in the other a redsilk handkerchief, with which he was going to wipe the beads
of perspiration from his heated forehead and his bald crown.
But he forgot the operation in his astonishment at the appearance of his old fellow-student, who was now his bitter
political adversary. The presence of the latter in the editor's office was certainly startling enough, especially for Doctor
Holm, whose humane conscience smote him with the recollection that to-day's evening edition of the People's Journal
would contain one of his most denunciatory articles, In
Prcesidentem. But Doctor Holm possessed in a high degree
the talent not to be overcome by circumstances, and thus he
waved his broad-brimmed straw-hat with a bold motion of
his arm, and said:
" Greetings! most illustrious man, and heartily welcome!"
" I see the years have done no injury to the lively humor
of my fellow-student at the university," replied the president,
with his most courteous smile, feeling himself much relieved
by this cordial greeting.
" Thanks be the gods who in mercy have granted me patience! " said Doctor Holm. "But will you please sit
down, Mr. President, and tell me what procures me the honor
of your visit?"
"Thanks, thanks!" whispered the president, without accepting the cane-bottom chair which Doctor Holm offered
him with his usual majestic gesture. " Much as I should
like to have a long conversation with my old university friend,
my time is too much occupied to allow me to do more than
to mention my request very briefly, and to beg him to repeat
it kindly to his colleagues; For reasons which I cannot very
well explain "-here the president glanced at the man in the
frieze-coat-" I am exceedingly anxious to have an interview
with Doctor Munzer. I would call on him at his lodgings,




The House of Hohenstein.          197
but I fear I should be as unsuccessful there as I have been
here. I should wish you, therefore, to ask him to grant me
an interview this evening at my house; or, if he prefers it,
to appoint another time and another place, just as he likes
best. Will you, dear doctor?"
"Excuse me a moment, Mr. President," Doctor Holm
said, interrupting the smooth-tongued statesman, " but God's
service before man's service, and if the leading article-how
is it, Cajus, have you reviewed and revised it, the lovely
leader, leader-orum? "
"Here," said the man in the frieze-coat, turning half
round on his chair and holding out with his left hand the
sheet which he had before in vain offered the president.
The immense hands which held the little sheet of paper
trembled, and the ashy-pale face was covered with large
drops of perspiration.
" For God's sake!" cried Holm, seizing with the paper
the hand also; "you look dreadful! What is the matter?"
"I fell coming up the steps, and I think I must have
broken my right arm," murmured Cajus.
"Man, are you mad?" cried Doctor Holm, who had
turned almost as pale as the man in the frieze-coat, " and
you have been sitting here for a whole hour in such a
state? "
A grim smile flitted across the face of the sufferer.
"The gentlemen would have had to correct their proofs
themselves, and I know they can hardly find time for their
own work, and "-his eyes, distorted with pain, shot a venomous glance at the president-" this article I could not
leave to anybody else."
The proof-reader was about to rise, but the motion interfered with the broken arm. The savage pain extorted from
the stoic a low wail, and he sank back on his chair fainting.
Doctor Holm rushed to the door which led into the printing room, with a rapidity which one would not have expected
from a lame man, tore open the little window, and cried with
the whole power of his lungs, " Help 1 help! " Then he
seized the bell-rope hanging over the editors table and
began to ring it violently, crying all the time, " Help "
although the printers, frightened at the uproar, had all




I98            The House of Hsohenstein.
rushed into the room with wonder in their eyes. At the
same time the door which led into the hall opened wide, and
Aunt Bella rushed in, the pattern still in her hand and the
red yarn still around her neck.
" Did I not say so," she cried. "I knew the man would
bring some fatality upon this house. What is the matter,
Holm? "
" No one must touch him! He has broken his arm! "
_cried Doctor Holm, as the men were trying to raise the fainting man.
" But, dear Holm, are you in your right mind? " exclaimed
Aunt Bella. "We can't let him lie there. Give me a glass
of water! Lehman, you run for the doctor! Tell him to
come instantly! You two, and John-you are a strong man
-you carry him into the front room! There, that's it! "
Cajus raised himself a little, looked with confused eyes
around him, and his sombre face became still darker.
"I should think it was bad enough if one drops down,
but that is no reason why others should run away and leave
their work."'He stood up and took the broken arm into his other hand.
" I can go home alone," he said, "if you will please open
the door for me."
" Nonsense! " said Aunt Bella. "Go home, forsooth! I
should like to know what you want to do at home, where you
have neither kith nor kin? We have room enough here, and
hands enough. I should not like to see the face brother
would make if he were to come back and find out that we
had let you go away."
This last argument seemed to make some impression on
the strange man. He murmured a few unintelligible words,
and then followed Aunt Bella out of the room. Two of the
printers went with him, obeying Aunt Bella's energetic
signs; the others went back to their work, discussing the
event with lively interest. The president and Doctor Holm
remained alone.
"Ah!" groaned the latter, sinking suddenly, quite exhausted, into an arm-chair and stretching out his arms and
legs. "I shake in all my limbs. That Cajus Caj-orum is a
man of iron, a very Roman! What do you say, Mr. President? Have you any such heroes in your offices? "




The House of Iohenstein.          199
"I am afraid not," replied the president, who had witnessed the whole scene from the furthest corner of the room.
" And a cause in which such men fight, should it not be
victorious?" cried Doctor Holm, enthusiastically striking the
table. " A cause sustained by men who are not only ready
at any moment to face death in defence of their ideas-for
dulce estpro p5atria mori -  or-orum!"-again the table was
struck violently-" but to break their arm, and with a
broken arm to correct the proof of a leading editorial-correct-orum leader-orum /"
" I see you have not lost your old Heidelberg fashion of
adding the Latin orum here and there! " said the president,
turning to the door.
" The gods be thanked! " said Doctor Holm, rising and
accompanying his visitor to the door, with that graceful
grandezza which he knew how to command at times, in spite
of his lameness. "If you had not forgotten it, Mr. President, we should not be compelled to write leader-orum ln
Prcesidentem /"
"Ha, ha!" smiled the president. "Very good! Very
good! Adieu, dear doctor. You will not forget to tell your
colleague!"
"Shall be done! Shall be done!"
" Your obedient servant! "
" Serv-orum, serv-orum / "
" What a fool that man is," murmured the president, hastening with careful steps down the long gallery.  "The
whole lumbering old house is an insane asylum! Well, if
I can only lead the chief fool, that man Munzer, by the nose,
I shall not have had my trouble for nothing."
CHAPTER III.
PRESIDENT HOHENSTEIN paused on his way from
the office of the People's Journal at the next street
corner, apparently undecided in which direction to
turn. Then he hailed a passing cab, and ordered the man




200           The House of Hohenstein.
to drive to the house of his sister Antonia. He found her
on the point of riding out, and was therefore rather ungraciously received; but the baroness seemed to be anyway in
bad humor. The president said he did not mean to detain
his fair sister-in-law; he merely wished to remind her, for
himself and in the name of his ladies, that there was a
reception to-night at his house. Then he mentioned, quite
casually, his adversary Doctor Munzer, who he thought
might probably come and take tea there, and then he sighed
and said, " If I knew anybody who could win that man
over to our side or make him harmless, I-but, ma chare
Antonia, here I stand and chat and pretend not to see how
you bite your beautiful lips from annoyance, and not to hear
how your horse is pawing the pavement. Good-by! Don't
come too late, and don't therefore ride too far! "
The president smiled, bowed, smiled again and disappeared, touching as he passed the long, slim neck of Antonia's horse with the tip of his fore-finger, and then walked
down the narrow, crowded streets, keeping his long, slender
hands folded behind his long, slender back.  Although
apparently never raising his eyes from his well-fitting varnished boots, he yet evidently noticed everything that was
going on around him. He returned the salutation of the
lowest mechanic, and gave a large piece of money to a boy
standing in tears over a broken pitcher, the work of his awkward hands. It is true, a crowd of old women were surrounding the poor boy, who had been scolded and admonished by them for the last quarter of an hour, and so he
said, for their benefit rather than for the boy's: "If your
father asks you where you got the money, you can say,
President Hohenstein-gave it to you." In another street
he stepped aside to let a procession pass by on its way to
church, and remained standing there with uncovered head,
till the last mourner had disappeared in the door-an attention which was highly applauded by many bystanders, most
of whom knew the president by sight and were perfectly well
aware that neither he nor his family were fortunate enough to
be members of the great church in which alone salvation is
to be found.
Thus scattering right and left the cheap seed of precious
popularity, the president reached a more quiet portion of




The House of Hohenstein.         201
the town. He had not seen this street for a long time-so
very long indeed, that it looked quite strange to him. And
yet he had been here often enough years ago. In a house
which turned its tall, narrow gable end upon a little plat of
grass, surrounded on the other two sides by dismal convent
buildings, a marvellously pretty girl used to live in those
days high up in the fourth story; the young man had been
desperately in love with her, and she, on her side, had loved
the elegant, tall young man even more passionately still. The
president paused for a moment to look across at the gableend, and he recollected that on that same spot, and about
thirty years ago, he had said good-by to his brown-eyed Agatha, as he was going to leave town the next morning on his
way to Berlin. He said it was only in order to stand his
examination there for promotion, and then to return; but in
reality he knew that he should stay away years and years.
The poor girl had cried bitterly. He had never seen her
again, and did not even know what had become of her; a
report had reached him, it is true, that the poor girl had
fallen into evil ways, and died afterwards in the charity hospital connected with the university in a neighboring town.
It was not an altogether pleasant remembrance, and the
president did not dwell upon it; he had more important
things to do, and hastened his steps till he reached the wider
street, in which he knew he should find his brother's house.
It was a silent, melancholy street; one side was taken up
with the high wall of the convent-yard, over which immense
old trees stretched out their branches, here dead and withered, and there covered with new and tender foliage. The
buildings on the other side were mostly three-story houses;
and as the walls were, without exception, covered with creepers and vines, they looked so much like each other that the
president, after some search, thought it best to obtain information about the alderman's house from a lady in mourning who was just coming out from one of these houses, and
at that moment turning her back to him. When he began:
"May I beg, madam     " the lady turned round, and the
president recognized to his surprise the handsome young
girl whom he had seen an hour ago in the side-window of
Peter Schmitz's house. The very attractive face of the girl
bore evident traces of pain or consternation, and the presi



202            The House of ZIohenslein.
dent thought that the large blue eyes had shed tears quite
recently.
"Ah, beg pardon, but I think I had the pleasure this
afternoon of meeting you before; pardon my curiosity, but
I am a near relative of the Schmitz family, and should like
to know whom I have the honor of addressing. My name
is Hohenstein, President Hohenstein."
And the president bowed gracefully, holding his hat over
his right ear.
"My name is Ottilia Schmitz," said the young girl, into
whose face the blood had rushed abruptly when the president gave his name.
The near relative of the Schmitz family was by no means
sufficiently at home in the genealogy of that honorable race
to be quite satisfied with this brief statement.  He said,
therefore: "Ah, indeed! Miss Ottilia Schmitz? I remember. And you have had a sad loss in your family, Miss
Schmitz?"
" My father-! " replied Ottilia, with increasing embarrassment.
"Oh! " said the president. "How sad! Your father!
But I am detaining you unwarrantably! I hope to have the
pleasure very often-  "
The president made way for her with a low bow; and
Ottilia, scarcely able to return the courtesy, hurried off with
downcast eyes and flushing cheeks.
"Hm!" murmured the president, "pretty girl! Ottilia
Schmitz, niece or something of the kind of my excellent
sister-in-law, probably soon to be connected with us in another way, besides. I must inquire into this. Clotilda has,
as usual, committed herself again too rashly.  It is high
time I should take the matter into my own hands. At all
events this is the house; there is the name on the doorplate!"
The president rang the bell and inquired if the alderman
was at home.
"Good gracious, Mr. President," cried stupid Ursula,
who had years ago been a servant in the president's house,
and knew all about the dissensions in the family. "Well
now! won't the alderman be glad! Please walk into his room,
Mr. President, I will run up and tell them you are here!"




The House of Hohenstein.         203
" But I do not wish to interrupt —"
" Good gracious! Interrupt! Please walk in, Mr. President!"
Ursula almost pushed the president into her master's
room on the right-hand side, and closed the door behind
him. The president looked curiously around him; he had
never been at his brother's house since his marriage, and had
rarely or never thought of his brother's household, but had
always imagined it small, insignificant, and poverty-stricken.
He was quite surprised, therefore, to find just the contrary.
Carpets on the floor, somewhat old-fashioned but comfortable, and even costly furniture; damask curtains before the
windows, fine engravings and excellent casts on the frescoed
walls. His own private office did not look more elegant.
" Yes, we Hohensteins have taste," he said to himself;
" blood tells; one does not degenerate so easily, I see. Hm!
hm! It might not be so bad after all-if the old man only
were safe   "
The alderman's writing-table, covered with documents and
papers, attracted the president's attention. An open letter,
written in awkward characters, lay so that a man endowed,
as the president was, with good eyes, could read it comfortably at some distance.
"Is that it?" murmured the president, quickly stepping
back from the writing-table and appearing absorbed in the
admiration of a picture at the other end of the room;
" Clotilda has for once guessed right! That alters the case,
of course! Ah, here you are, dear brother! I am so glad to
find you alone; we must have some talk with each other! 
The president had advanced to meet his brother with outstretched arms, but he paused almost involuntarily as he
noticed the alderman's pale and haggard appearance.
"Great heavens, Arthur, are you sick? I will not trouble
you!"
" Oh no I By no means! I am tired, that is all," replied
the alderman, smiling with pallid lips, and taking his brother's
hands. " I am glad, very glad to see you here. But won't you
sit down? You anticipate me. I intended to give myself
the pleasure of calling on you this evening. Important
family affairs; I do not know what you will think of them,
but    "




204            The House of RHoenstein.
"First of all, dear brother," said the president, interrupting him, and dropping into the comfortable sofa, "tell me
how you all are. How is your wife? How is Wolfgang?"
"Better, better! I may say, quite well! We have just
had a consultation, in which your name has been frequently
mentioned."
"Dear Arthur," said the president, bending over and
placing his hand lightly on his brother's arm; " let us speak
to each other frankly, and as it becomes brothers.  We
have been somewhat foolishly estranged from each other for
many years, but I think we shall understand each other
again as we did once upon a time, when you and I sat upon
the same bench at school, and you, though my junior by two
years, used to correct my tasks. You were the cleverer of
the two, and you would have risen high if you had stood by
us as you ought to have done. Let me finish, dear brother!
It was just because I thought so highly of your talents, and
because I knew that you might be the pride of the family if you
chose-it was this which hurt me so deeply when you took a
course which necessarily removed you farther and farther from
us. How deep my sorrows had been, I only found out when I
measured it by the joy I felt at being able the other night to
embrace you at the City Hall before all the people, as the man
who had saved the town. Dear Arthur, let us make amends
for what we have neglected, as far as it is in our power! How
perfectly I confide in you, you may judge from the fact that
I come to-day with a petition, or at least asking for information. To make the matter short, my wife has told me
a long story about a silent attachment which Camilla has
formed during her stay at Rheinfeld for your Wolfgang, and
which she thinks is returned by him. I have of course said
nothing to the child about it, and shall not do it until I
know what is the truth of the matter. It has greatly surprised me, as you can guess. This is my reason for coming
here. Has your son spoken to you about it? or your wife?
for women are wonderfully sharp-sighted in such matters!
You see what confidence I place in you! I hope you will
treat me as well! "
" Then you have received no letter from uncle?" inquired
the councillor.
" From uncle? Not a word!" said the president.




The House of Hozenstein.          205
"And you do not know that uncle has taken Wolfgang's
future in his own hand?-that Wolfgang is going to give up
the law and will enter the army, in Gisbert's regiment?"
" Not a word of it! " replied the president with admirablyfeigned surprise.
"Then allow me to read you this letter, which I received
this morning from uncle," replied the alderman, rising and
taking the old gentleman's letter from his writing-table.
"I am all ears," said the president, and heard the letter
read with all the signs of deepest interest; of course his
brother omitted the last lines, which were not particularly
flattering for the president.
"Well, that is news indeed!" said the latter, as the alderman locked up the letter in one of the drawers of his table;
" but, dearest brother, what does Wolfgang say? what does
your wife say?"
"I can only tell you that Wolfgang is in love with Camilla; he has confessed it to my wife and to myself. As to
uncle's project about his future career, he has some scruples
about that; but I think he will give way if the main thing is
only right."
" And I think we agree on that! " said the president, with
a cunning smile, offering his hand to his brother.
The alderman seized it with warm enthusiasm.
"Can it really be? " he said. " Are we, who have been at
variance for so many years, really to meet once more in the
evening of our lives?"
"Do not say the evening of our lives," said.the president,
smiling. "My dear brother, we are not yet at meridian
height; we can and we will rise higher, if we hold to each
other."
"I don't know," replied the alderman. "I feel less
strong than formerly. I seem to have lost all elasticity."
The alderman passed his hand over his forehead and his
eyes.
" Well, well! " said the president. " You have overworked
yourself, dear brother. If anybody has a right to be tired,
it is you. But your great merits are appreciated. I met the
chief burgomaster last night at General Hinkel's. He considers'your unanimous election as city treasurer quite certain. He told me all about your romantic transfer of the




206            The House of Hohenstein.
treasure; very good! excellent! I should have liked to
have seen you both at it!"
The alderman laughed, but his laugh passed into a dry
cough.
He rose: "I believe my chest is weak. I must consult
Doctor Snepper."
" You have become a hypochondriac, dear brother," said
the president, also rising. "And no wonder. You have
lived outside of your natural sphere, and that is never wholesome. But all that will be changed now. I also have had
my cares, and have them still. A poor government official,
and especially a high one, is badly off. I hope our children
will do better. I hope I may say our children?"
"Dear brother! " said the alderman, opening his arms.
"But now I must go," said the president, after a silent embrace. " I have a world of business to finish to-day. And
then, to-night is Clotilda's reception! You ought to come.
Young officers! pretty girls!... Apropos of pretty girls; who
was that little damsel in mourning who left your house just
as I came in?"
" A niece of my wife," said the alderman. "The daughter of her brother in Thuringia, who died a few days ago.
My wife has a marvellous attachment to. her family-very
inconvenient. I was just discussing that chapter with her
when you came."
The president laughed. "It must be particularly inconvenient just now.  Well, well; that will all be arranged
peu adpeu. Not a step further, dear brother! Au revoir "
"He looks really wretched, mon cherfrere! " murmured the
president, walking down Convent street with long, careful
strides. " I can well believe he won't last many years more.
Well, that is settled! I have a good head for that kind of
business.  Clever, was it not? that I pretended to know
nothing. Now I have only to put a ring in the nose of my
democratic bear, so that he must, nolens volens, dance to my
piping! Six o'clock! How time flies! Cab! The president's house! "
-— 0 —----




The House of Hohenstein.          207
CHAPTER IV.
BERNHARD MUNZER had experienced more than
once in his life that the best cure for a suffering heart
is some work which requires the utmost activity of the
brain; but he had never felt it as much as in these last days.
Once more he stood before one of the enigmas of his enigmatic life-before a sphinx who had smiled at him, at first,
with her sweetest mien, only to grin at him, the next moment, with a diabolic face. The old mirage of his imagination, how often it had delighted, disgusted, or mocked
him! How he had struggled to clear up all these doubts in
his heart, in the great world! His proud, powerful heart,
his deep, clear intellect-all he had he brought to bear upon
his innate desire to do something great for this world in
which he lived, for these men among whom he moved! To
this one great purpose of his life he had pitilessly sacrificed
the fairest flowers of his imagination. He had torn from his
shoulders the soft and pleasing garments of the master, and
wrapped himself up in the rags of the slave. In the service
of his ideal, in the service of humanity, he had done the
work of a slave, and what had it all availed? The discord
in his soul was not appeased! He had not yet learnt humility, moderation, and patience! And this free, fraternal
humanity was and remained a cruel, coarse heathen idol,
which saw its slaves working with their shoulders to the
wheel, ruthlessly slain, or scoffingly hurled into the abyss,
by its own priests, and never moved an eye-lid. And even
that he might have borne, but his strength was giving way
gradually, and he felt it ebb. He felt that disgust rose
higher and higher in his breast, and threatened to master his
enthusiasm. But no, no! A thousand times, no! Your enemies waiting for your downfall-they shall not boast of their
triumph! No human hand-shall feel how your heart beats
more and more slowly! No human eye shall read a complaint in your eye, a sign of grief for long-lost happiness!
No human hand? Not even that hand into which you
once placed your own for life-long union? No human eye?
Not even that eye which hangs on you with a love which is




o08            The House of ]ohenstein.
omniscient because it is infinite?-which discerns every
cloud that-passes over your brow as soon as it rises on the
horizon and follows it with secret tears?-not even your wife's
eye?
You hope so; for you would be unhappier still if you
could not hope so. And who tells you that you may hope
so? The pain that makes her lips curl so often, those lips
which do not perhaps overflow with wit and brilliant words, but
which always speak truth and never yet uttered a hard, unkind word, but many a piece of good advice and many a
word of heartfelt comfort!-lips which might have given
you much more yet that was sweet and dear, if you had
known how to open the seals which the highest excitement
and the deepest emotion alike seemed to place upon them!
No, Munzer, you cannot hope that you can conceal from
your wife your sorrow-stricken heart, with all its heavy burdens.
Away, ye spectres! Work, sacred work, that scatters the
ghosts of grief and relieves man from his burdens, come to
me! Work, the friend of my joyless youth! Work, that
has so often rescued me from the jaws of despair! Thou
goddess in the dusty garment of hair-cloth, with the firmlycompressed lips and the sadly-frowning brow! Thou to
whom as a boy I vowed allegiance, help me to bear the heavy
burden of life to the end!
"Are you going already, Bernhard?" asked Clara, when
Munzer, after having written forseveral hours during the afternoon, threw down his pen, arranged his papers and rose;
"you did not use to go so early on Tuesdays."
" I have to go," replied Munzer, in an absent way, " these
are hard times for us."
" Poor Bernhard!" said Clara, coming up to her husband
and placing her hand upon his arm; "you have such hard
work to do."
" Don't you work hard, too? " replied Munzer, beginning
to open his papers again; " but leave me, Clara; you know
I do not like to be interrupted just before going out; it
makes me forget the most important things."
Clara left him, waiting patiently till Munzer should turn
again towards her. But he never turned round again; he




The House of Hohenstein.          209
rose, went straight to the chair on which his hat was lying,
and was on the point of going out, when Clara said gently:
" You have forgotten something unimportant, Bernhard?"
"What is that?"
"To say good-by! "
"Good-by, Clara!"
Munzer offered Clara his hand, smiling. She flew into
his arms, and put her head on his bosom; but instantly she
tore herself away again; and as she turned from Munzer to
the window, he saw that her eyes were filled with tears.
Munzer seemed to hesitate for a moment whether he
should go or stay, then he laid his hat and his papers on a
chair, walked up to Clara and said:
"Why do you cry, Clara? "
Clara turned half round and tried to smile.
" Oh, it is nothing, it just happens so."
" You are not happy, Clara! "
" I am happy, if you are so, and-you are so, I trust?"
Munzer's forehead clouded up.
" The old story! "
" The old story!" repeated Clara, " because the subject is
ever new!"
"You only add new chapters!"
"I am not an author, Bernhard! I do not invent your
cares and your sorrows and your sleepless nights. All that
is but too real."
"And is it your fault?"
"Somewhat! You ought not to have married me. You
ought to be free. You have something else to do than to
provide for wife and children. You would perhaps not be
happier then, but you would be less unhappy."
Clara said this so quietly, so calmly, Munzer felt as if his
soul was lying perfectly open before his wife's calm clear eye.
He could not and would not deny it; he could only say,
"And does this make us happier?"
"I do not know, Bernhard; but you have taught me yourself that there ought to be no secret between us. It would
have been better if I had understood that sooner.  Or
rather, I understood it, but-you know I cannot always say
what I wish to say."
"It would have been better t" said Munzer in a sad voice,




21O            The House of Hohenstein.
"yes indeed, but perhaps you are not alone to be blamed
for it; perhaps I also ought to have been more candid. Let
us be wiser in future. We mean well, both of us, and do not
let us make our troubles greater than they are; time will take
care of that. Good-by, Clara, all may be right yet."
He drew his wife to his heart and kissed her. Then he
left the room without looking round again.
Clara tottered, nearly fainting, to the sofa, and hiding her
face in her hands, gave vent to her sorrow in a torrent of
tears. Seeing her weep thus, her whole body heaving and
trembling with her passionate grief, one might have asked in
amazement, if that was the same Clara whose calm, quiet
manner and even temper were proverbial among her acquaintances?
After a while she made a violent effort, dried her tears,
which flowed less from grief than passion, and gazed fixedly
before her, resting her head in her hand.
" All may be right yet!" she murmured; "and how he
said that! He does not believe it himself. Why should he
be right yet, if he loves me? How can it be right yet if he
does not love me? And he does not love me; he never did
love me as he can love! He does not even love his children! We are a burden to him, which he bears because he
has to do it-because he is too proud to confess that his marriage was a blunder. But I am not less proud. They are
my children as much as they are his. We will no longer be
a burden to him! He shall be free again as he was before;
he shall no longer be hampered in his plans and in his
work; he shall no longer waste his strength on us. We
will make way for him-we win go so far from him that even
the remembrance of us shall not be a burden to him."
And again, as she dwelt on these most painful thoughts
that a wife's heart can harbor, again she broke out in floods
of tears.
"But can he forget us entirely?-forget all we have experienced -and suffered together? Can he really find one who
understands him better than I do?-who can love him better
than I have done and still do? No! and a thousand times,
no! It is not possible for us to part. And if I were to
endure everything for his sake-would that make him happier? Can he be happy without me? Would he not want




The House of Hohenstein.          2 
me back when it is too late?-when he sees that no one can
love him as truly as I did?-when he sees that those who surround him in prosperity will leave him in adversity? And if
he then should want me-if he were lying sick and forlorn, and
I had to admit that it was my pride which parted us-that
he would have kept me near him and loved me after all,
perhaps, if I had only been wiser and more modest-oh
God, oh God! what must I do? what must I do? "
And the unhappy young wife raised her arms to heaven,
like a drowning man who feels his strength give way, and
knows that the next moment the dark abyss is to swallow
him up forever.
Just then joyous voices of children were heard in the
adjoining room: " Mamma! mamma! Where are you,
mamma?"'Charles and Ella were coming home from school. They
wanted their bread and butter.
Clara pressed her handkerchief on her eyes, that the children might not see the traces of tears.
"Here, children!"
" Ah, here is mamma!" cried Charlie, running up to his
mother. " I am so hungry! I met papa; at first he did
not see me; then I crept up to him and frightened him
nicely."
" That was not right, Charlie! "
" But papa was not angry at all. He asked me if I had
good marks, and when I said'the best in school,' he said,'That's right, and give my love to mamma;' and then he
kissed me-but mamma, I am so hungry!"
"Directly, child, directly."
"But you are crying, mamma?"
" How you talk, child! I suppose something is in my eye!"
"Yes, mamma, I met somebody, too!" said Ella. "Uncle
Peter! and Uncle Peter says he is coming round this evening
with Aunt Bella, and you are to take a walk with them. May
we go too?"
" If you have done your tasks and it is not too late."
While Clara tried to drown the deadly grief for a lost
Eden, which had never yet overwhelmed her so completely,
her husband dragged himself through the narrow, winding
streets with their stinted bits of sunshine, on the old familiar




212           The House of Hohenstein.
way to the office. The meeting with his boy had reminded
him once more of things which he wished to forget, and
which he must forget if he wanted to do his day's work
well. As the little fellow had looked up to him with his
joyous, innocent face, he had felt with a shudder that it
required an effort in him to answer the boy kindly. He had
felt no joy, no pleasure; he had felt only as if the chords in
his heart had been torn, and could no longer utter a sound.
"That is right," he murmured to himself, as he walked slowly
on, never raising his eyes from the pavement. "Be quiet,
Clara; if I cannot love you as you wish to be loved, and deserve to be loved, it is certainly not because I love anybody
else. That beautiful woman, night before last, looked at me
with her triumphant eyes, that said clearly,'You are mine, you
may struggle as you choose!' You triumphed too soon, fair
lady! It is nothing but the old dream again-and I am
freeing myself of the bonds of dreams as I am making
myself free of other bonds which I have assumed in my
folly. What is it they say of the bitter hatred which we
must vow against the world if we wish to follow the Saviour,
who has made the world free? I will follow the summons
that has come to me; I will not look to the right or the left.
It is my fate, I cannot do otherwise."
Thus, lost in vague thoughts which brought him neither
comfort nor clearness of mind, Munzer at last reached the
old house in River street. He drew a long breath as he
crossed the threshold. A heavy load fell from his soul.
There was work, pitiless, and yet benevolent work; the
furies that clung to his heels vanished in the air.
In the office he found Doctor Holm, still very much excited
by the events of the afternoon. Iron-headed Cajus had not
been content till he had forced Aunt Bella to consent to his
being carried home. She had yielded, but only when the
physician had declared it would probably tend to calm the
patient if his wish were gratified.  Cajus had been removed,
an hour ago, in a cab, accompanied by the doctor and by
Aunt Bella, who would not let him go alone. Peter Schmitz
had been out the whole afternoon on business. Doctor
Holm was delighted at last to see somebody who could help
him in his work and to whom he could pour out his heart.
He was very communicative to-day, but Munzer was more




The House of Hohenstein.          2I3
reserved than usual, and Holm left him to himself, after
making several fruitless efforts to engage him in conversation about business. But when at last all was done which
could be done that day, when the last proof had been returned corrected into the printer's room, when the letters
had been answered and the communications for next day's
paper had been trimmed and prepared, Munzer once more
drew out a sheet of paper and once more dipped his pen
into the inkstand. That was too much for Doctor Holm.
Knocking the ashes out of his pipe with unusual vehemence,
he said:
"I say, Munzer, it is quite late, and I think you have
done work enough for your few dollars."
" I do not work for money, dear Holm!" said Munzer.
"Ah! For what then? For humanity, wholesale? Dear
Munzer, mankind as a whole will get along pretty well without our flaying ourselves alive, and then carrying our skin to
market for sale."
" I know, Holm, no one is further from such suicidal ideas
than yourself."
" Yes, by the Olympians, and I am proud of it. Man was
not born to be free, says old Goeth-orum;. and if that is true,
at least in the sense in which the old gentleman took it, it is
still more true that man was not born to be a pack-horse."
" You are becoming personal, dear Holm."
" Tertium comparationis, or in classic Latin, tertiorum comparation-orum. The third, you know, is that you take more
upon yourself than you can bear, in spite of your capacity,
which no one can appreciate more fully than I do. And suppose even-I assume it, for my part, only with large reservations-suppose there was any sense in sacrificing one's self
for an idea, it seems to me we have no right to do so, till
we have paid all our other debts first."
"I have no debts, dear Holm."
" I wish you had some, and some other human defects,
which remind us that we are only men, after all, among other
men. I am such a good republican that I hate every kind
of aristocracy, even the aristocracy of virtue, and I do not
wonder at all at the Athenians ostracizing Aristides. Why
did he insist upon being better than Peter and Paul? But
to return to your case-"




214            The House of Hohenstein.
"Is your speech to be much longer? " asked Munzer, dipping his pen once more into the ink-stand.
" That depends on the time it will require to produce the
desired effect on you," replied Holm. " To return to you, I
said. You have, as you say, no debts, such as many an
honest fellow has. But then, you have a charming wife and
charming children, such as many an honest fellow has to do
without. Now you owe it to this wife and these children,
to keep fresh, and free, and cheerful for their sake; and how
you will be able to do that if you keep on much longer
working with your usual passionate zeal and excessive industry
-by Zeus and all the Immortals, that is more than I can
understand."
"Death is our common lot," said Munzer, becoming visibly more and more impatient.
"So Moira would have it," replied Holm, taking a cigar
from his pocket, and lighting it. "That is not our fault, but
it is our fault if we embitter the cup of life to ourselves and
to others. Come, Munzer! The Schmitz family propose a
walk. They evidently need it, both of them, for Peter hangs
his head ominously, Aunt Bella looks like a thunder-cloud,
and little Ottilia is half-stifled here, in these musty, old.
rooms, coming as she did fresh from a home where the woods
are rich with the fragrance of pine-trees.  Therefore, Munzer, oh come, and leave the abominable office! Fetch your
wife, the adorable mother of lovely children! and those
children themselves, for in such we are all to be changed, if
we wish to be blest and to enter the kingdom of heaven!"
" I cannot do it, Holm! really I cannot! "
" Tell me the reason, oh man! and beware and be truthful!" answered Holm, who had already risen, stretching himself violently, and at last taking up his broad-brimmed, yellow straw-hat.
" I must look in upon poor Cajus to-night. You know he
would despair of all mankind if I also were to abandon him,
as he seems to think a little better of me than of the others."
" Let Cajus be seen by you as by others, oh Munzer! but
that does not prevent us from joining the merrier party! "
" And before that," said Munzer, " I have to write, what
you seem to have forgotten, the sixth and last epistle In
Prcesidentem.  A week more, and the elections are here, and




The House of Hohenstein.         215
I should like to have flayed this Marsyas before they come
on."
Doctor Holm struck his forehead.
"In President-orum / Yes indeed. I had totally forgotten!
He was here!"
"Who? The president?"
" Yes, and wanted you sorely. He has called on you at
your house, or meant to call there-I do not remember which.
He begs you will call on him, if possible, this evening."
"What does he want of me?" asked Munzer.
" The gods know. I do not.  I did not ask him," said
Holm. " We were interrupted by that affair of Cajus. Election business, I suppose. Perhaps he wants to offer a compromise. You ought not to go, in any case."
" Why not? The man calls on me; courtesy requires that
I should return his call. Besides, I think it is the paper he
wants. Thanks to our indolence, our adversaries are again
strong enough to suppress us, if needs be, by force. I will
tell the man that that will not help them much, and that the
case is provided for. That is not exactly so; but he is cunning enough to believe it, and we shall thus be saved much
trouble. And should I avoid a personal meeting with the
man just now, when I aim my shafts daily at him, that would
be cowardly, and the whole party would call it cowardice. I
must go."
Munzer had risen and taken his hat. Holm shook his
head.
"Munzer, I wish you would go with us, and leave the
president alone. Do not put your trust in princes-or presidents either! He who runs into danger, perishes in good
earnest. Munzer, I feel as if you would be sorry to have
gone there. Don't do it! "
" Oh, these timid men!" said Munzer. "Lions in the
path, right and left! If there were only dangers threatening, I should like to plunge right in.  I want some excitement. I feel as if we were not advancing a step, as if the
revolution had died in March, and we were decking a corpse
with flowers, without knowing it. The meeting with my
adversary will refresh me. I will tell him the sixth letter to
his face; that will save me the trouble of writing it. That is
profit tout clair! "




216            The House (f Hohenstein.
And Munzer hastily left the room, without waiting for his
lame companion.
" I believe Munzer is going to lose his senses one of these
days," said Doctor Holm, walking across the creaking gallery towards the front part of the old house with extraordinary care-for Cajus's accident had forcibly reminded him
of the frailty of man, and all that belongs to man-" how
can a man be so clever in general, and such a fool in particulars?"
o —
CHAPTER V.
W    HEN Doctor Holm entered the sitting-room, he found
the whole Schmitz family assembled there. Peter
was walking up and down, with his hands behind
his back, as if he were measuring the length of the room
from the old cuckoo clock on one side, to Washington's portrait on the other. Aunt Bella sat, as usual, in the bay-window, embroidering-this time though with black yarn around
her neck-and opposite to her was Ottilia, who seemed to
have helped her aunt, but who, at the moment when Holm
entered, was leaning back in her chair, and resting her head,
seemed to be lost in reflection. It required no very sharp
eye to see that a dark cloud overhung the sky of the Schmitz
family.  The straight, deep lines between Peter's eye-brows
were darker than ever. Ottilia had evidently been crying,
and the deep blush on Aunt Bella's cheeks, and the warlike
expression of her eyes, showed clearly that the good lady
had just been delivering a lengthened discourse, which had
been interrupted by Doctor Holm's arrival.
" Be ye greeted with joy and with joyous hearts, oh my
friends all! " cried Doctor Holm, shaking hands with Peter,
and going up to the ladies, in order to shake hands with Aunt
Bella also, and to make his bow to Ottilia with his usual
grandiose manner.
"Joy!" said Aunt Bella, and an angry glance flashed
from her large, dark eyes, the heirloom of the Schmitz
family. "Indeed, we have reason to be joyous!"




The House of Hohenstein.          217
"That would give me delight, but it does not seem to be
quite true," replied Holm, taking a chair near the bay-window, and putting his broad-brimmed straw-hat on his cane,
between his knees.
"What do you think of poor Cajus?" asked Peter, never
stopping in his walk between the cuckoo clock and Washington's portrait.
" That he is a hero!" replied Holm with emphasis, and
with an energetic stamping of his stick.
" That he is a fool, you mean! " said Aunt Bella.
" Fool-orum?" inquired Holm, in astonishment.
"Was it not folly, then, to sit there an hour, correcting
your learned nonsense, and his arm so badly broken that
Doctor Brand had to cut off the sleeve of his coat, and says
such a thing has never yet occurred to him in all his practice? Was it not folly not to stay here with us, where there
is an abundance of room, and all that he needs? But no!
He must, perforce, have himself carried back to his miserable lodgings, where neither sun nor moon are ever shining.
Not a soul will he have near him but an old nurse, who is
all the time taking pinches of tobacco! He won't take any
money from Peter, but says grandly, he'keeps always a few
dollars in reserve for such a case.'  I have no patience with
such eccentricities! " said Aunt Bella, taking her spectacles
from her nose, putting them in the case, and throwing the
case into her work-basket.
" Have you seen Cajus, Schmitz-orum?" asked Holm, who
never cared to contradict Aunt Bella'when she was in her
"fighting humor," as he called it.
"Yes," said Schmitz. "It is as Bella says; he won't see
anybody except Munzer. Cajus is a fool."
" But, my dear friends, what will you have? " cried Holm,
almost angry when he found he was to meet opposition even
here. "We must take men as they are, and that is after all
not so very difficult, as long as people do not ride their hobbies over their neighbors' toes. Caj-orum is a queer saint,
you know. I have an instinctive antipathy against fanatics;
but we ought not to condemn them all for the sake of a few.
Who of us knows how Cajus has become what he is now?how fate may have banged away at him, before it hammered
him into such a crooked, rusty old nail? When he came
to




218           The House of Hohenstein.
into the office the other day and asked for a place as proofreader, I said to Munzer:'Look here, Munzer, I do not like
the man!'' But I like him,' replied Munzer,'for he is poor
and unhappy.' That was a noble answer of Munzer's, and I
have since only remembered his being poor and unhappy,
and tried not to mind the rest, not to inquire if I like Cajorum or not! "
" But, dearest Holm," said Aunt Bella, interrupting the
zealous advocate, "we do not say a word about liking or
not liking, but we speak about acting foolishly or wisely.
And I tell you once more, Cajus is a fool not to accept
kindly the help that is offered him. You are all the time
talking of republican principles and fraternity, and heaven
knows what fine things, and when the case comes when you
are to act in accordance with your words: Ah! the gentlemen have forgotten everything; they wrap themselves up
in their old pride and their old selfishness, and act as if they
were alone in the world. Speak as you think, and act as you
speak, that is my principle, and I know no better! "
And Aunt Bella clapped her hand on her rolled-up embroidery.
"Very-orum good-orum!" said Holm.
"Come, Ottilia, we must get ready.  It is high time.
You are going with us, Holm, are you not?" said Aunt
Bella, rising.
"Everywhere you lead me, oh sweetest and loveliest ladies! " sang. Holm, rising also with the aid of his cane; " for
I enjoy the delightful weather, and long in my heart's core
after the fragrant blooming trees and the murmuring breezes;
also after the fulness of foaming beer in the garden, which
the immortals call'Roman Hall,' on the river! "
"We are not going to the Roman Hall this evening,
Holm. Rupertus has invited Munzer and us, and bound
us over to bring you too."
"Be it so! " answered Holm, gallantly opening the door for
the ladies as they went into the adjoining room; " do I not
know that house and the garden and excellent vintage? "
He closed the door, and assuming the sober tone in which
he spoke of serious matters, he said to Peter:
"Tell me, Schmitz-orum, what is the matter here? The
little one has been crying; Aunt Bella is in a fearful fighting




The House of Hohenstein.         219
humor, and you look as black as a bad day in November;
what has happened? "
" Oh nothing, nothing of importance," said Peter Schmitz,
pausing in his walk, passing his hand over his forehead and
his eyes, and then beginning his wanderings once more.
" Hm! " growled Doctor Holm; "as you choose. "What
do you think? the president was at the office and wanted
to see Munzer! "
" Yes, oh yes!" replied Peter, not thinking of what he
said. "Bella told me so. I really have not thought of it
again."
Holm shook his head. Peter Schmitz must be very busy
indeed to be so indifferent to a fact which ordinarily would
have interested him deeply.
"And what do you think? Munzer has accepted the
president's invitation, and is this moment on his way to his
house?"
"Impossible!" said Peter Schmitz, turning abruptly on
his heel with great vehemence.
"As I tell you!"
" Munzer puts himself into direct communication with our
worst enemy," continued Peter, passionately, coming close
up to Holm; "with this president who is as'smooth tongued
and false as they all are, these Hohensteins, these d — "
He smote his head and said to himself, "Be calm, Peter,
be calm! " went to the window and drummed with his fingers on the panes.
Holm had never seen Peter Schmitz so angry in all the
long years of their acquaintance.  The conviction that
something grievous must have happened to his friends, lay
like a heavy load on the good man's heart. But his courage
did not fail him.
" I say Schmitz-orum," he remarked, "whatever has happened-and it cannot have been a trifle, I see that-but
even Patroclus died, and he was more than thou! You have
gone through so much that is bad in your life-throw this
into the bargain! You know Fate has not dealt very kindly
with me, but I say with the preacher: All is vanity; joy
and grief, grief and joy, all but the fact that we must remain
honest men, in spite of all these rascals and scoundrels.
That is the main thing, the others amount to nothing. And




220            The House of Hohenstein.
now let us go; I hear Aunt Bella with her bunch of keys;
and one thing more, Schmitz: don't tell the ladies, and
especially not Clara, where Munzer is. I do not look upon
the matter as so important, to tell the truth, but it is better.
Ah, there you are, fair ones, now up to the gentle Rupertus!"
Clara Munzer was ready when her friends called for her.
She seemed, however, to be much saddened when she heard
that her husband was again prevented from joining her-by
election business, said Holm. "Then we'll stay at home
too, Charlie!" she said, taking off her hat. Charlie began
to cry, and wanted to know why he had staid at home the
whole afternoon finishing his tasks, if he was not to go to
Mr. Rupertus now? And why mamma had not sent him to
bed an hour ago, like Ella, although he had not coughed
once, and had brought home nothing but good marks?
Uncle Holm became the mediator, and he and his friends at
last persuaded Clara to put on her hat again and to permit
Charlie to go with them.
" I am reluctant to do it," said Clara; "I fear I shall contribute little to your entertainment."
"That is not expected," said Holm; "for we shall take
that upon ourselves, Aunt Bella and I."
Holm took Aunt Bella's arm once more, while Peter went
ahead with the two other ladies, and Charlie attached himself now to one and now to the other group. It was nearly
dark already as they went through the narrow streets, which
still suffered from the oppressive closeness of the day.
Holm held his hat in his hand, and called again and again
" for the living breath of the river."
" But pray do stop now, Holm," said Aunt Bella. "That
does not carry us there a minute sooner."
" Just as little as your melancholy faces remove the cause
of your melancholy," replied Holm, very seriously.
Aunt Bella knew this tone very well, and understood that
her friend wanted to give her an opportunity of speaking
out; how much she felt the desire to do so, she proved
at once by breaking out into tears and saying, amid sobs:
"Ah, Holm, we are very unhappy again! "
" I see that," replied Holm, "and it pains me much, especially as you seem to look upon the matter as so important
that even I cannot be trusted with the secret."




The House of Hohenstein.          221
"By no means, Holm," said Aunt Bella, eagerly. " I have
only waited for a suitable moment to speak with you undisturbed."
"Well then, fire away, Aunt Bella," said Holm, impatiently. "Charl-runm, run a little ahead, my son, or I'll fall
over your legs."
"The thing is this," said Aunt Bella, drying her tears;
"poor Eugene died in very embarrassed circumstances,
much worse off than Peter thought. The books were in a
horrible state of confusion. Yesterday and to-day a large
number of bills have been sent up by the lawyers to whom
Peter had to leave the settlement of the estate, and Peter
has no idea how he can possibly satisfy all these demands.
And there is apparently no end to them-that is the worst.
Now you can imagine Peter's situation. He is so proud of
his honest name, and now he has only the alternative of
ruining himself, or of letting it appear that his brother left
this world a bankrupt."
" Hm! A sad choice!" growled Holm; " and the beautiful Ottilia cries her eyes out, eh?"
"Ottilia! " said Bella, eagerly. "What are you thinking
of, Holm? Ottilia cries about something very different;
just think-but more of that hereafter. She knows nothing
of it. How can you imagine Peter would tell the child such
horrible things! And that is the trouble. You know Peter:
he must have somebody to love dearly. Thus he loved
Margie, and loves her still; thus he loves his little one now,
as he calls her, as if I had nothing to do with her, and as if
she was not my child as well as his. But, to be sure, nobody troubles himself about me. I am used to it, and don't
mind it. But that does not keep me from loving my relatives and from worrying myself day and night about what is
to become of Peter. Rather than let Ottilia have the misery
of reading in the newspapers that her father was a bankrupt-for in some way or other she is sure to find it out in
time-rather than that, Peter will do anything-sell all and
begin life once more, old as he is. And Holm, that concerns you, too; for I do not think Peter will be able to keep
the paper, and he says it is more than doubtful whether he
could get new shares subscribed to a republican paper, now
that the people's zeal has cooled off so much. I told Peter




222            The House of Hohenstein.
to make the paper a little less radical; but that made him
very angry, and he asked me why I did not advise him to
sell out to the government at once and to betray his party?
I am sure I meant it very well, and I don't know anything
of your political stuff."
And Aunt Bella resorted once more to her handkerchief.
"Hm, hm! " growled Holm. "That looks badly! But,
Aunt Bella, if Peter can only keep his head above water in
other respects, the paper may go down for all I care. It
will go pretty soon anyway. I'll be candid with you, Aunt
Bella. You are an intelligent woman and you can listen quietly, can't you? That about making it less radical, is simple
nonsense, by your leave; we can't go back, even if we chose;
and what is more, we don't desire to go back, if we could.
Peter is right: he who abandons his post is a bad man;
but, mark me, Aunt Bella, the post on which we stand is
abandoned. The others will not admit that; but I have a
cooler head, and I think I see pretty clearly how the land
lies; the revolution came too suddenly and found us all more
or less unprepared. The nobility, the army, the government
officials, have all recovered from their fright, and are arming
very quietly; the middle classes, like our friend Rupertus,
whine for peace at any cost; and the people proper are not
men on whom we could safely rely. The excitement is subsiding, and ere long the reaction will come, and will succeed.
I cannot explain to you all the reasons why I think so, but
that is not necessary. I only want to show you why I expect the People's Journal to die pretty soon; and if it has
only influenced the elections in the province so as to be
favorable to our party-and it has done so, I believe-why,
then, I think it has had its reward and can die quietly."
"But, Holm," said Aunt Bella, "I thought Peter had built
all his hopes upon the increasing value of the paper? And
what is to become of you and of Munzer?"
"Hm," said Holm; " as for Peter, he has begun life anew
more than once, as you said just now. Such tours de force
are becoming more difficult, it is true, with every year, but
Peter is a man of uncommon energy, and can do more than
others. I have unbounded confidence in his courage and
his energy. I always feel as if one needed to care no more
for his fate than for rain or sunshine. Munzer will leave us




The House of Hohenstein.          223
in a few days for the great meeting, where the constitution
is to be discussed. I believe we are sure of victory, unless
quite unforeseen accidents should happen. Thus he has, for
the time, a new sphere of action, more congenial to him
than writing for the newspapers. Who knows, in fact, but a
really great man may shine forth in our friend? Well, and
as for me   "
Holm paused a moment, and his voice sounded a little
husky, as he continued:
"The blow would fall hardest upon myself. I am no
longer a youth, Aunt Bella; I have neither Peter's indestructible energy, nor Munzer's brilliant genius, but never
mind! Our great Father on high, who clothes the lilies in
the field and gives to all creatures their food upon earthHe will not forsake old Holm. I have few pretensions, few
wants, and they are easily satisfied. For the future, then,
Aunt Bella, we will let the future provide. But you have
not told me all yet. Why did Ottilia cry? and why is Peter
in such bad humor? You have something else on your
mind. Confess it, Aunt Bella!"
"Well, if you must absolutely know it all, I presume I
must tell you," replied Aunt Bella, who desired nothing
more than to pour out her whole heart into the bosom of
her old, well-tried friend. " But you must not let Peter find
out that you know, for I tell you he is strangely sensitive in
all matters concerning Margie. Listen, Holm, and let us
walk a little faster, or we'll be left behind too far. I told
you, I think, how very kind and sweet Margie was to me
and the little one when we went there night before last.
Well, yesterday, we went there again, and Margie kissed and
caressed Ottilia till the tears ran down my cheeks, and then
we left directly, because sister had to go up to nurse Wolfgang. But to-day I sent the little one again, because sister
had urged me to do so; and when Ottilia gets there, she
finds Margie bathed in tears, almost beside herself, so that
Ottilia thinks Wolfgang is dead, and falls upon Margie'b
neck-the dear, sweet girl!-and begins to sob and cry likewise. Well, at last the murder comes out: our dear brotherin-law does not wish Ottilia to come to the house, for that
was the gist of the matter, although Margie, of course, tried
to make the bitter pill as palatable as she could. Poor




224            The House of Ho/iensten.
Margie! I really felt very sorry for her, but she is too weak.
You may imagine, when Ottilia came home, her eyes quite
red with crying, and I-stupid woman!-must needs tell
Peter all about it, as if he had not trouble enough already,
and as if I did not know that this scandalous conduct of
our nice brother-in-law would offend him deeply! I could
box my ears when I think of it."
"That would not be very useful to you or Peter," said
Holm; " but let me make another suggestion. Let us make
a league, defensive and offensive, against all melancholy;
otherwise our little company will be in the depths of misery
and make us all wretched, and let us begin our alliance tonight. What do you say?"
"Of course I will, dear Holm," said Bella, zealously;
"you are perfectly right. I cannot stand this continual
weeping and wailing any longer. And did you notice how
sad Clara is to-night? I tell you, Holm, those two will not
end well. They do not suit each other, Holm. Clara is far
too good for him. I have always'said so, and I still say so.
He always wants to do great things, and he does not know
what is going on in his own house; and he does not wish to
know it. Great heavens! here we are already. Well, how
time flies! "
Mr. William Rupertus, a wealthy man, before whose charming villa the company had just arrived, overcome by dust
and heat, was an old friend of the Schmitz family, but
had only recently become acquainted with Munzer and
Holm-in fact only since the establishment of the People's
Journal. Mr. William Rupertus was rich enough to indulge
in very liberal political views, especially as the government
had committed the unpardonable blunder of neglecting a
man of such great merit. He had not been made a "councillor;" he had not been decorated with the Order of the
Falcon; in fine he had not been made happy and conservative.
Mr. William Rupertus carried this feeling of not having been
sufficiently appreciated with him wherever he went, and
loved to quote lines from a well-known monologue in Schiller's Wallenstein, such as, " You have succeeded, Octavio! "
or, " You have cut down the lovely boughs!" or, " Here I
stand a leafless tree! " although it was very difficult if not
impossible to discover the smallest connection between the




The House of Hohenstein.         225
quotations and the position of the quoter. For if any one
had no good reason to quarrel with fate, that man was Mr.
Rupertus. In the full vigor of manhood, with exuberant
health, the owner of a large fortune, partly inherited and
partly increased by his own industry; married to a lady not
exactly beautiful, but clever and excellent in every way, and
of whom he was justly proud; father of a number of lovely,
affectionate children, whom he loved tenderly-he was not
satisfied!  Nay, he was so dissatisfied that when Peter
Schmitz was about to establish the People's Journal, and
appealed to him on the ground of former business relations
for assistance, he took shares to a large amount, although
no one could be more opposed to political radicalism than
Mr. William Rupertus. "He is a kind of Herostatus,"
Munzer used to say, " and his shares of the People's Journal are the torches he throws into the temple of Diana."
Mr. Rupertus and his wife received their guests most
kindly, and half an hour later the company was sitting around
a table in the new garden-house which Mr. Rupertus had
only built this spring, and of which he was not a little proud.
The room was richly furnished, and yet in good taste. From
the windows, and from the balcony before the windows, one
looked up the wide stream to the city, where countless lights
played merrily on the dark waters. The balcony overhung
a narrow, sandy road, running along the bank of the river,
and separated from the garden by a high wall. Through an
iron gate one reached the road, beyond which lay a couple of
elegant row-boats, which were rocking on the deep water in
a small bay, surrounded by a copse of willows.
This new building, which had cost much money, and even
more trouble and labor, was of course duly admired by the
guests, and especially by Doctor Holm and Aunt Bella, who
were quite enthusiastic in their praise. Doctor Holm, in a
pathetic speech, compared Mr. Rupertus to the king in the
ballad, who, standing on the top of his palace, looked upon
Samos at his feet, and advised him, William Rupertus, to
throw, as that king did, some precious jewel into the passing
stream-perhaps that bottle of hock which he was just
about to open-and thus conciliate the jealous gods.
" You can afford to make fun of us," said Rupertus, draw
ing the cork, and pouring the dark-red wine into new glasses.
IO*




226            The House of Hohenstein.
"You are a man who has a name; every child in the street,
I dare say, knows you; no artist comes to our good city who
does not call on you at once, to enlist your good-will and
recommendation. You are a power-yes, and if you chose
you might have yourself elected and sent to Frankfurth, like
our friend Munzer.  I have heard many people say that
would be the man for us, but he won't! But I!-what
could I accomplish?  I am "a leafless tree," an obscure
citizen-a stupid grocer, as you say when you are among
yourselves.  No, doctor, for all that, I would not pour my
good hock into the Rhine!"
Doctor Holm raised his eyes and hands to the blue ceiling,
adorned with golden stars, and said:
" Rash man, with violent speech, to defy the Immortals!
Hear him not, oh ye heavenly powers, the heretic mortal!"
But Rupertus was not so easily led aside.
"Ah, come doctor," he said; "you know I am right.
Every man must have something to keep him up. You
clever and learned men rely on your erudition and your fame;
we unlearned people have nothing but ourselves, as Wallenstein says; or our little money, as you say, and what we
can get for our little money. Well then, you ought not to
blame us so much if we attach some importance to our house
and garden and fields, and so forth, and like to have it all as
handsome and as perfect as we can make it. And that is
not so easy; now here is something wanting, and now there;
we are never at rest and at ease. You have been kind enough
to praise my garden. The situation is beautiful, I grant
you, but it is evidently much too small for a handsome domain such as I want to have. Then I have no fine old
trees on my place, while there is quite a number on the adjoining property of the Baroness Hohenstein. If I could
add her garden to mine, then I might be proud! Great
heavens, what efforts I have made! I have offered the baroness's agents, indirectly, twice and thrice as much as the
place is worth, but she will not hear of it. To be sure, the
garden is so quiet and retired-I dare say it is worth all the
world to my indiscreet neighbor."
"Oh, William, that is unkind! " said Mrs. Rupertus.
"Well, well! " replied her husband, " I do not mean to
say anything bad about the baroness; I only repeat what




The House of Hohenstein.         227
the world says. I hardly know her by sight, and a prodigiously pretty woman she is. Apropos, Mrs. Munzer, how
does your husband like the baroness? He is a connoisseur!"
"My husband? " asked Clara, who started when Rupertus
spoke to her as if roused from a dream. "I do not think
Bernhard ever saw the lady."
Rupertus laughed. " Well, you are certainly discreet. I
presume I must not say anything more about it."
" About whom, and about what?" asked Clara, seriously.
" Don't talk such foolish things," said Mrs. Rupertus.
" Well, do tell the truth, or the poor little woman will think
there is a great secret behind," said Aunt Bella, angrily.
"But why on earth will you not let me speak out?"
cried,Mr. Rupertus. " I do not intend to injure the doctor's honor and reputation, I assure you. Is it my fault if he
interfered the other night when the mob was making a riot
before the house of the baroness in town? My scamp of a
gardener was one of them, and told me all about it. He
gave them a beautiful speech from the balcony of the baroness's house! Would not we all have done the same,
except of course the beautiful speech, which I at least
could never have made? Come, ladies and gentlemen, let
us drink the health of our absent friend, Doctor Munzer! "
" And then I beg you will drink the health of our new
young friend here, and may she soon find a second home
among us," said good Mrs. Rupertus, embracing and kissing
Ottilia, who sat by her.
The glasses met, and the cloud which Mr. Rupertus had
unconsciously raised on the clear sky seemed to have disappeared. Aunt Bella and Holm took care to furnish topics
for pleasant, cheerful conversation. Holm confessed to Bella
the love which he had felt for her in his silent heart now for
twenty-five years, and that there was but one single circumstance which always had prevented him, and still did prevent him, from making an offer. He had, he said, in spite of
his republican views, a secret leaning towards the nobility,
and had vowed as a young man to marry no one but a lady
of noble birth.  He admitted that there was some doubt
about the mutilated but undoubtedly noble escutcheon over
the front door of the house in River street; it might belong




228            The House of Hohenstein.
to the Schmitz family, but it might also belong to some one
else; and as long as that.point was uncertain, he must deny
himself a happiness of which-to tell the truth-he felt in
his repentant heart altogether unworthy.
Aunt Bella gave the good-natured teaser as good as she
received.
"I can tell you, dear Holm," she replied, "if you were
to make me your wife, that would not be the most foolish thing yet you ever did in your life. I am not as beautiful as the Italian countess of whom you have told us in
many a weak hour, nor quite as young perhaps; but, Holm,
since you were in Rome twenty-five years ago, you have not
grown younger nor handsomer, believe me! "
"I invoke the great gods to bear witness to such sacrilege!" cried Holm. "Not younger? I grant that. But
not handsomer? Aunt Bella, I tell you I am handsomer now
than I have ever been before."
" Maybe! " replied Aunt Bella. "But, dear Holm, after
all, you will soon be a regular old bachelor, and I advise
you to look out before it is too late! I am not going to
wait for you forever, for sooner or later I must choose
among all my admirers, or else I also shall be beyond my
first bloom."
" Sweetest of beings! " cried Holm; "here is my heart
and my hand! "
"And if I were to take you at your word! " cried Bella,
with a sharp glance from her dark Schmitz eyes.
"Ye gods! " exclaimed Doctor Holm, quickly drawing
back his hand and making such a face of consternation that
Mr. and Mrs. Rupertus, Peter Schmitz, and even Ottilia
had to laugh.
The ringing of a passing steamer's bell was heard through
the open windows of the garden-room. "Now mind, my
friends, how the waves will come rushing up the bank," said
Mr. Rupertus. " Do you hear? Is not that famous?"
At that moment a boy's anxious cry was heard from the
place where the boats were fastened to the bank of the
river.
"Great God! where are my children?" cried Clara Munzer, starting up.
Charlie and William had long since risen from table; no




The House of Hohenstein.         229
one had noticed them when they had left the room, about
half an hour ago.
And once more the fatal cry arose: "Help! help!"
amid the rushing of the swell caused by the steamer as the
waves broke against the river-side.
Mrs. Rupertus was paralyzed by terror. Deadly pale,
trembling in all her limbs, she tottered from her chair, only
to fall fainting into the arms of Aunt Bella and Ottilia. But
Clara rushed to the door and down the steps, Mr. Rupertus
and Peter Schmitz by her side, while Doctor Holm followed
as rapidly as his lameness would permit.
CHAPTER VI.
W   HEN the president reached home, he found a letter
from his uncle at Rheinfeld, which relieved him of
his last doubts as to his conduct in the proposed
union between the two families. The old gentleman told
him in dry words that he wished Wolfgang to marry Camilla,
and that the two parties concerned should find it to their
advantage to comply with his wishes. The president at
once took the letter to his wife and had a long conference
with her, very different from similar conversations of the
kind in this, that for once the two were perfectly d'accord, as
his wife remarked with a pleased smile. The latter went,
thereupon, down to her daughters' dressing-room, in order
to give the young ladies instructions as to their conduct tonight, while the president went back to his room in order to
have an interview with his new valet Jean. It was almost a
confidential conference, and the names of the Baroness Hohenstein and Doctor Munzer were frequently mentioned.
The interview lasted till the ordinary servant-with a very
savage side-glance at the interloper-brought in the lighted
lamp, and at the same time announced that Doctor Munzer
was waiting in the ante-room, and begged to know if the
president could receive him now?"
"One moment till I ring," the president replied; and




230            The House of Hohenstein.
when the servant had gone out, turning to Jean: "You
understand! a hundred dollars; and if you give satisfaction,
and after a year, a suitable place in my office; if not, you
know I am aware of all your antecedents, and know how to
disarm people who are in my way!"
"You shall be satisfied, Mr. President! " said Jean, placing his hand on the place where his heart might be. " You
shall see  "
"All right!" whispered the president; "no phrases, if
you please! You can go now; there, through that room.
Doctor Munzer must not see you just now."
Jean disappeared discreetly through the door which led
into his new master's chamber, and from thence out into the
great hall.
The president pressed the little silver bell on his writingtable.
The servant opened the door and announced,
" Doctor Munzer!"
"Ah! That is very kind of you!" said the president,
offering his visitor his small, white hand; and as Munzer, after
a formal bow, did not seem inclined to take it, inviting his
guest with a graceful gesture to take a seat in one of the
arm-chairs.
"No kindness, Mr. President," replied Munzer, sitting
down opposite the president; "nothing but simple courtesy,
which I could not neglect without risking misunderstanding
on one or. the other side."
The president was rather taken by surprise by this reply,
the diplomatic reserve of which he could fully appreciate.
He had heretofore seen the famous republican only at a distance, and expected a very different manner from him. It
seemed to him quite an enigma to find so much social aplomb
in a man whom he knew only as the author of poems full of
an enthusiasm which appeared to him ridiculous, and as the
agitator whose violent speeches he had criticized as bombastic and high-flown. He looked at his strange guest with
wonder, and even betrayed some of this feeling in his features.
Munzer also fixed his intelligent eyes upon the president.
A comparison between the two men, as they sat there with
the full light of the lamp streaming upon their faces and




The House of Hohenstein.          231
figures, would no doubt have been of great interest to the
physiognomist. They seemed hardly to belong to the same
people, nor even to the same age. Here, a smoothness of
manner so finely polished that the breath of passion had
apparently never dimmed it, and certainly could dim it no
more; there, a fierce strength, which threatened every moment
to break through the self-imposed calmness; here, watchful
cunning, carefully observing every movement of the adversary, and conscious that its strength lies solely in precaution
and the most subtle calculation of the chances of the game;
there, proud courage, loving conflict for the sake of conflict,
and despising or ignoring danger. The tall, pliant man
with the high, narrow forehead, the smooth-shaven, smiling
face, the low, soft voice, and the almost feminine grace with
which he used his white, well-kept hands, could apparently
be at home nowhere except behind the green table of the
board over which he presided, or near the fire-place in a
brilliant salon, tea-cup in hand, and entertaining in pleasant
chat a number of great men and ladies in full dress. The
other man, with the proud head and the noble, pale countenance, in which the fine dark-blue eyes flashed out great
and bold in spite of their melancholy expression, with the
powerful frame, the broad shoulders and the finely-developed
chest, out of which the 4$ep, melodious voice rose as out of
the heart itself-he could evidently be fully himself only on
great occasions, at the head of enthusiastic crowds, rushing
irresistibly upon a hostile battery.
"Very well," said the president; "very well. But you
must -admit, doctor, when we are kind, without meaning to
be so, that it is twofold kindness."
"That may be, Mr. President; but pardon me, I hardly 
think you have desired an interview with the editor of the
People's Journal merely in order to discuss with him the
meaning of kindness. May we not at once proceed to business? I presume it concerns our paper, which naturally
must have been of late quite a thorn in the side of government and in your own."
"My own? Why particularly mine, my very dear sir?"
replied the president in his softest tones. " Perhaps because
the People's Journal has done me the honor to subject my
administration to long, and I may say diligent, criticism?




232            The House of Hohenstein.
As for that, such pleasant things are unavoidable in a high
position, especially in a free state."
" Ah indeed! " replied Munzer, with irony, which he did
not care to conceal. " I must confess that the slight effect
which the articles In Presidentem seem to have had upon
President Hohenstein is not very flattering to the author.
It will, therefore, be less embarrassing to you, Mr. President,
if I present myself as the mortified author of these unprofitable literary efforts."
"You tell me nothing new there," answered the president,
with his most courteous smile. "I could never do Doctor
Munzer's simple, effective style the injustice to confound it
with the ordinary journalistic writing of second-rate men."
" Pardon me, Mr. President, if I once more express a desire to pass over the introduction as quickly as possible and
to proceed to business."
" We are in the midst of it, my dear sir," said the president, and at the same time he slightly moved the lamp so
that the shadow fell upon his own face; "for the very fact
that you, a man of such decided talent and such erudition,
place yourself on a footing of equality with ordinary newspaper scribblers, and the sincere regret which this fact has
caused me and persons of higher position-this is my reason
for suggesting to you a personal interview, which I desired
even before you had become the editor of the People's Journal."
Munzer moved impatiently in his chair.
" I am sorry to say I have not the remotest idea of what
you are driving at," he said curtly.
"I trust we shall soon understand each other," said the
president, still in the same low, kindly tone. "It would be a
marvel if we should have done so at once. For that is the
curse of our day, that Babylonian confusion has seized upon
men, and no one any longer understands the language of
others, although in the end all wish to gain the same thing,
though in different ways and by different means."
"Perhaps the difficulty is more serious than that," said
Munzer, who began, almost unconsciously, to be interested
in the conversation. "Might not the difference in language
be the necessary effect of a corresponding difference in
ideas?"




The House of Hohenstein.          233
The president shrugged his shoulders.
" I do not know," he said; "but when I read the violent
discussions which are now carried on in the press, in popular assemblies, in clubs and so forth, I am often reminded
of what Goethe once said about some philosopher or other,
whose abstruse jargon at first made it almost impossible to
comprehend his ideas:'One has to get accustomed to his
language,' said the old gentleman,'but when we know that
with him a horse is not a horse, but a cavallo, and God
not God, but perhaps Dio, then we can read his works easily
enough.' I believe it is very much so with us. You want
Germany to be united; you want a great, free Germany. I
want the same. But you want it, if possible, to-day; and II do not wish to build a fabric that has no sub-structure, and
cannot see that we will ever succeed by acting so precipitately."
Munzer's lips curled up with a contemptuous smile.' In order that the tortoise may ever keep ahead of quickfooted Achilles? No, Mr. President, two thousand years
ago it was called folly to fill new wine in old bottles; and
yet, that is what the best of your party desire to do. I
mean those who really desire that Germany should be free;
powerful, and united. But the others? They have no wish
but to preserve all the old superstitions, to protect their
privileges, which make the idea of equality. and fraternity
among men a hollow phrase-in fine, to fill the old, tasteless
wine into an elegant new bottle, to which they give the prettiest name in the world, in order to deceive the credulous
multitude as to its contents. We, however, we are determined to be no longer content with honeyed words and fine
phrases; we want to have our share of the great inheritance... No, let me finish, Mr. President; as I have said so
much, I wish to say also what I still have to say with regard
to you personally. I have attacked you in my paper, violently, pitilessly, not because I feel personal animosity
against you-you may believe me on my word-nor because
I undervalue your talents and your ability, for I consider you,
on the contrary, a most distinguished officer of our govern
ment, but simply because I wished to show, in you, that miracles are no longer the order of the day, that the Saulus of
yesterday can no longer become the St. Paul of to-day; that




^34           Tle House of Iohenslein.
a government, unable to lay aside the men who were bred in
absolute, arbitrary power, cannot carry out a revolution such
as we need now, if the fructifying stream is not to lose itself
in the arid sands of the old sterile despotism."
While Munzer, carried away by a torrent of thoughts which
he had for years cherished in his soul, spoke thus with passionate vehemence, scarcely able to control himself, the reception-rooms of the lady of the house had.been gradually
filled with the mixed noises peculiar to a large company, in
which the low confused murmuring of many voices and the
clinking of glasses and cups predominated. When Munzer
rose from his chair, and, as he was prone to do in moments
of deep excitement,'began to walk up and down in the room,
he happened to approach the door leading to the salon, and
then he thought he heard a voice which suddenly drove the
blood to his heart. The president also had heard the voice;
the deep shadow which fell on his face hid the scornful smile
which was then playing around his lips and the quick watchful glance which his cold, cunning eyes cast at Munzer.
Munzer turned once more to the president, who had not
stirred in his chair, and who now said, pointing to the chair
on which Munzer had been sitting:
"You must sit down once more, my very dear sir, if it
were only to hear your adversary calmly.  First of all, I
thank you for the candor with which you have spoken of
our own mutual' relations. Although 1 never doubted for a
moment that your attacks upon me proceeded from the purest motives, I am still glad to hear it confirmed by your own
lips. Then permit me to suggest that you wrong us when you
say the government and its officers have not the same good
intentions that you have. I will not remind you that the
assumption is apparently. quite gratuitous-that our august
sovereign has assured the officers of his corps d'elite only the
other day that he has done everything spontaneously-I will
grant, for argument's sake, that it is as you say. But now I
ask you upon your conscience: are you able to replace the
old worn-out wheels of the government machine by new and
better-made ones? Could you find in your party suitable
men to fill all the offices you wish to vacate? You cannot
do it; and if I happened to be one of your intimate friends
and associates, instead of being President Hohenstein, you




The House of Hohenstein.        235
would confess that you cannot do it. What follows? That
having no clean water, you will have to wash the soiled linen
of the government for some time yet in dirty suds. But who
prevents you from adding gradually more and more fresh
water? And this is the main point of my question: Who
hinders you from speaking frankly, from joining the government, and from using the machinery already on hand for
your ends and purposes? Do you think we would hesitate
to receive you? That is not so, I can assure you! The
government is fully aware of its needs and its defects, and is
quite ready to avail itself of new and efficient agents. We
may not seem to you to notice everything; but we see more
than you imagine. We know the Hotspurs of your party,
hollow men as they are; but we know also the stronger
minds, those minds which alone give a weight and a value to
the zeros you drag behind you.  It is not my purpose,
Doctor Munzer, to flatter you, and to wish to make you
betray yout convictions for the sake of an office or a decoration. I should be ashamed to make you an offer which I
know you would reject with contempt; but I can and must
say this: if. you should be willing to employ your strength,
your talents, and your extended information in the service
of the government, any place which you should claim as fit
for your abilities would be open to you."
Munzer had heard but a small portion of the last part of
the president's speech, for in the adjoining room some one
had been playing on a piano a few detached bars of an air
which Munzer had heard but once, but which he would
never again forget-an air which had simply charmed his
soul.
He rose by a powerful effort over himself.
" I thank you, I thank you very much for your good opinion, Mr. President," he said, mechanically; "but it does not
seem to me that that brings us nearer to an understanding.
Besides, I hear you have company, and fear to detain you
from more pleasing conversation. Permit me to take my
leave!"
"Oh, certainly not!" said the president; " this clinking
and cackling in the adjoining room is unpleasant enough,
but do not let that drive you away; we have so rarely an opportunity of saying a sensible word to a sensible man."




236            The house of Hohenstein.
Before Munzer could make a reply, the huge folding-doors
opened wide, so that a flood of light, from chandeliers and
lamps and wax-candles on consoles and tables, together with
the louder noise of a large assembly, poured into the room
where they were; and when Munzer, almost frightened, turned
round, he saw two ladies enter, arm in arm. One was an
elderly, very stately, and somewhat corpulent lady; the other
-whom Munzer knew but too well-the beautiful siren
whose image had just risen before his soul, and from whom
he had just been about to flee!
" My dear doctor! " said the grand lady, letting Antonia's
arm go, and rustling up to Munzer. "Pardon the intrusive curiosity of one of your greatest admirers, who could
not bear the idea that the author of Rosamond was here in
her husband's room, without venturing upon an effort to
make his acquaintance."
Munzer bowed silently, and when he raised his head again
his eye fell upon Antonia, whose large dark eyes were fixed
upon him with a peculiar and almost anxious expression.
"My daughters, like myself, have so long desired," said
the lady of the house, "to see you! You must permit me,
doctor, to present my children."
" Pardon me, madam," said Munzer. "You see I am by
no means prepared to appear in your salons."
" Oh, doctor, no ceremony! " cried the great lady. "We
are quite a family party. You know dear Antonia? Is it
not so, dear Philip?"
And she turned to her husband.
Antonia stepped up to Munzer, and said in a quick, low
tone:
"Stay, I must speak to you! " and then aloud: " Do us
the favor, doctor!  You know, noblesse oblig/  Why did
you write Rosamond? You must take the consequences
now! "
" I should see in your remaining a proof of what you told
me in regard to our personal relations," said the president.
" Give me your arm, doctor, and let me show you my girls,"
said his wife, touching Munzer with her fan, and leading him
away, while the president said to Antonia, " Pray sister, one
moment! " and kept her in the room.
Munzer had not been often in his life in so brilliant a




The House of Hohenstein.         237
salon as that in which he found himself now almost by force.
But in vain did the many eyes that examined him, as he entered, with staring wonder or impertinent curiosity, look for
a trace of embarrassment in his fine pale face.  Sharper
eyes saw in his features, and in the carriage of his tall, powerful frame, more pride than humility, and fancied even they
discovered in the flash of his large, brilliant eyes, a spark of
rising indignation that might easily be fanned into a bright
blaze. And Munzer really did feel so, while the president's
wife, holding on to his arm, presented him here and there to
ladies and gentlemen: "General Hinkel-Gackel-a great
admirer of your muse, doctor-Chief Burgomaster Daschah! I see the gentlemen know each other!-Baron Drozte,
Councillor of the Supreme Court-Assistant-Judge WyseBaron Willamowski-Baron Brinkman-but what have you
done with the young ladies, gentlemen? All fluttered away
like little doves, of course to listen to a funny story from Kettenberg!  Why, just hear how they are laughing!  That
man Kettenberg-the painter, you know-have you seen his
last picture at the exhibition? He is our enfant terrible, as
my Aurelia calls him. Nothing but fun and foolishness in
his head, but such a nice man! There are the young people, all in a crowd! We shall have to go in there to see
them. To be sure, here they are! Camilla! That is my
Camilla, doctor! Aurelia, how warm you look again! The
two Misses Hinkel-Miss Drozte-why did not your mother
come to-night, dear Elfrede?-and there he is, the master
of the revels!-Kettenberg, you shall pay for it! To turn
all the girls' heads! "
" Madam! " said Kettenberg, a strikingly handsome young
man, with dark curly hair, black beard and black moustache; " I think, on the contrary, I do them a great service.
The little heads may possibly come into the right places
thus."
"Oh, you scamp! How can you let him say such things
of you young ladies?  But you must excuse me for a
moment, doctor; there are some new arrivals, I see."
And the great lady went away to receive " her dear, dear
brother," Alderman Hohenstein,.who had just entered the
reception-rooms.
The president's party was to-night to have one surprise




238            The House of Hohenstein.
after the other. The alderman's arrival excited hardly less
astonishment than that of Munzer. Those who were initiated in party politics, like the commanding general, the burgomaster, and a few others, knew of course that Alderman
Baron Hohenstein had, during the last few days, come forth
from his chrysalis of a radical as an ardent defender of the
throne and the altar; but even they had not been aware that
the reconciliation of the repentant sinner with his family
had been so complete as it was proved by his presence in
the salons of the president, and his exceedingly cordial
reception by the lady of the house.  The neophyte had
stood his trials; he was henceforth a peer among his peers.
The company took pains to let him see this. All the gentlemen present, Count Hinkel at their head, vied with each
other in shaking hands with him, in telling him something
agreeable; and the servant would never have succeeded in
his manceuvres to reach him with some refreshments, of
which he evidently stood much in need, if Camilla had not
come herself from the adjoining room to bring " uncle " a
cup of tea with her own fair hands.
" Dear uncle, you must for once let me wait upon you! "
she said, with a sweet, bashful smile, and then raised her
long,-dark eyelashes to look at the councillor with an expression for which Baron Willamowski, who stood near by,
would have unhesitatingly given his soul's salvation.
There was no lack of subjects for conversation and observation to-night. For hardly had the surprise caused by the
alderman's appearance subsided a little, when Colonel
Hohenstein and his wife, and with them Lieutenant Cuno
and Ensign Odo entered the room. The latter two were, it
was well known, standing personages at the president's parties, but the parents had never appeared except on peculiarly solemn occasions, when special. invitations were sent
out, and it was a secret well known to the whole town that
the two sister-in-laws lived in deadly enmity with each
other.  This event, therefore, must also have its special
significance; and it was but natural that all the watchers and
gossips, of whom there were exactly as many present as the
company counted in numbers, should at once set to work to
find the key to all these mysteries. And really it did not
take long before a piece of news of truly amazing interest




The House of Hohenstein.         239
passed from ear to ear through the whole assembly-no one
knew where it had originated-the news of the impending
betrothal of Camilla with her cousin Wolfgang, the alderman's son. The presence of all the members of the family
gave some color to the report, and explained also why Antonia had now been locked up with the president in his private
room for more than half an hour, no doubt on important
family matters. Antonia, proud and obstinate as she was
known to be, was probably opposed to such a mesallianceas Wolfgang's mother was nobody but plain Miss Schmitzand yet it was probably deemed desirable in a matter of
such very great importance that the unanimous consent of
all who bore the name of Hohenstein should be obtained.
This furnished, moreover, some explanation at least for
Doctor Munzer's presence, which was otherwise utterly enigmatical. Doctor Munzer was-no one knew again who had
furnished this piece of intelligence-an intimate friend of
the Schmitz family, and had, besides, been Wolfgang's teacher
for many years. They evidently wished thus to show some
attention to young Hohenstein by honoring his teacher, and
had given the matter a slight political coloring in order to
make it less surprising-no doubt a nicely calculated measure.
While the crowd found ample entertainment in this manner, and the servants hurried about with tea and cakes and
refreshments of every kind, Munzer had had abundant time
to reflect on the false position in which he found himself
here. As soon as the president's wife had left him, he had
become conscious of the necessity of promptly leaving a
house which he ought never to have entered. He felt that
to stay longer would be to betray his whole past life, and he
determined to leave as soon as he should have had an opportunity of telling Antonia that it was not worth while to
begin again the game of the other evening. But he must
remain till then. The proud woman was not to imagine that
he fled from her, or that she might make a foot-ball of him
according to her sovereign pleasure. She also might feel a
little of that heart-ache which had been his inheritance from
childhood up-an inheritance which the last days had largely
increased-if she had a heart!
And Munzer remained, hoping every moment to see An



240             The House of Hohenstein.
tonia return to the company; and every moment he spent in
these rooms filled him more and more with a strange feeling,
of which he could give himself no good account, and which
yet kept him at the president's house not less than the desire of seeing Antonia.
If he had had a woman's chaste sensibility, he would have
known what this feeling was. Munzer was an accomplished
connoisseur, and his eye delighted in wandering over the
beautiful pictures, vases, and statues all around him on pedestals and consoles; he was a poet, and the presence of so
many elegant, charming women affected him like the sweetest music.' After having sauntered about through the lofty,
brilliantly-lighted rooms, enjoying all he saw, he entered a
small cozy boudoir, lighted up by a chaste alabaster lamp
that hung from the ceiling; he sank into the swelling velvet
cushions of a circular sofa, in the centre of which a column
bore a miniature fountain merrily playing in a marble basin.
And as he lay there, he thought of the wretched hut where,
shivering and hungering, he had grown up a lean, gloomy
boy, and the fearful winter night when his father lay white
and cold and stiff on his straw-bed, and his sick, sorrowful
mother knelt by the corpse, murmuring wild, incoherent
words, which she fancied to be prayers, letting her rosary
glide through her hard, trembling hands. He thought how
his young heart filled with unspeakable horror and wretchedness, how he rushed from the hut out into the raging
night, to run down to the village for the priest He thought
of the kind old priest, full of benevolence, who took the orphan the very next day to his poor little home...
" Well, doctor, what is the poem you are writing in your
mind," said Kettenberg, the painter, with whom. Munzer had
on his first entrance exchanged a few civil words, and who
now sat down by him on the sofa. "If by chance you should
want a good subject, I can -perhaps supply you with a few
attractive sketches. There is, for instance, little Camillayou can make good use of her as a siren, alias fisher of men.
I used to be enthusiastic about her, as everybody is who
sees her for the first time; and she accepts enthusiasm, I can
tell you; but for a permanency I prefer her sister Aureliaclear summer weather, I assure you, with the necessary
showers to furnish delightful variety. She is not quite as




The Hrouse of Hohenstein.        241
beautiful as the siren Camilla, but I think she would run
away even this very night with a man whom she really loved
-and I like such characters. Or, how do you like Miss
Georgianna Hinkel, the young lady there with the magnificent red hair, which she curls like an antique Apollo, and
her equally classic bare shoulders and bosom?  She is
rather-a Phryne or a La'is; she sent me a discreet proposition to paint her as Diana Anadyomene, and for whom do
you think-for her betrothed! She did not say whether I
was to paint him as Actaon, nor whether she was to be
modelled from nature. You look incredulous! I give you
my word of honor it is so! Oh, I could tell you better things
than that about this most honorable company!-things of
which you book-worms never dream! I tell you: here and
there pure and unadulterated Sodom and Gomorrah! "
"And why do you frequent a society for which you seem
to have so little respect? " asked Munzer.
" Respect?" said Kettenberg; " hm! I do not deny them
my respect exactly, for I think if other virtuous people
could lead such a life, they would soon be not very different
themselves. A plant which is too well fed, sends out superabundant shoots; and if it is not sufficiently nourished, it
fades and withers away. Where there are lights, there must
be shadows also. A man who knows southern countries as I
do, learns soon how inevitably that is the case. But unfortunately.I like the south and the light and the diabolical
splendor of an exuberant Nature. It is in my blood; I cannot help it. And then, what will you have? I am a painter;
a tolerably good painter according to your own criticism on
the last Art Exhibition. Eh bien! I am not so endowed as
to be able to paint directly for immortality. For whom else
can I paint then'? For the gods of the earth, the rich, the
great!-who else wants to be painted? who else can pay me?
Now, if I were to hold this society in horror, which is to me
what light is to color, and were to cherish moral scrupleswhy, I might throw my palette into the fire and go and become a house-painter. Must I necessarily be a bad man on
that account? I never yet harmed a man knowingly, and do
not feel inclined to do so. I also love liberty, although you
may not think so; but Art is a noble love, who has been
true to me all my life long, and whom I don't mean to forII




242            The House of Hohenstein.
sake for any woman, however virtuous she may be. But I
cannot imagine, by heaven, how Art can exist by the side of
liberty-I mean your liberty. You want to abolish wealth,
and Art is a luxury for the wealthy. The common peoplein the best sense of the word, doctor-have no fondness for
Art, no appreciation of Art. As long as Art has been known,
it has found an asylum at the courts of princes. You need
not suggest the republics of antiquity and of the Middle Ages!
It matters very little in the end whether one rules or a few
share the rule between them. Pericles plundered the whole
Archipelago to enrich the Acropolis, and-but I weary you
by my talk, and I have not yet discharged my commission."
" Your commission for me? From whom?"
"For you, of course! and from whom? Ah, that is hard
to tell; from the whole company. You know, not directly,
but thus:'Just try to find out, Kettenberg! You understand best how, Kettenberg!' The fact is, I am to sound
you on the subject of our common friend Wolfgang. I have
made his acquaintance recently at Bonn and have become
very fond of him-a fine fellow, upon honor!-is he really
going to marry little Camilla? "
"But I never heard a word of it!"
"Really?"
"In good earnest!"
"And do you believe it? "
"I should be very much pained to have to believe it. But
the thing seems to me almost impossible. Wolfgang is a
serious, high-toned man; he is not likely to be dazzled by a
pretty face."
" Do you think so, doctor? I, for my part, think that
misfortune has happened ere this to many a serious, hightoned man; in fact, if my experience does not deceive me,
it happens to such men most frequently. But in this case,
the diplomacy of the old people may have had as much to
say as the love of the young people. I am sure the thing is
not an invention. You must know, little Aurelia is a great
friend of mine, and deposits all her most tender secrets in
the carefully guarded shrine of my heart. Aurelia assured
me solemnly, a little while ago, that the thing was so. Other
facts also seem to confirm the report. My friend Willamowski, who had the best prospect of ruining himself completely




The House of Hohenstein.         243
as Camilla's husband, has been dismissed this morning in
disgrace, and has since tried to drown his grief in various bowls
of punch, which make his eyes look a little more glassy and
stupid than usual. Cousin Cuno also, another admirer of the'much wooed Helen,' has been of late in a fearful state of
mind, although he had an exorbitant run of luck at faro, and
talks of nothing but parvenus who have more luck than
sense and who rob honest people of their deserts. And
then it is certainly not a mere accident that to-night all the
Hohensteins are assembled here, I believe for the first time
in twenty years. The alderman-I tell you, they overwhelm
him with courtesy, and Camilla flutters around him like a
butterfly around the sweetest of flowers."
" Stop! " cried Munzer. " That is enough and more than
enough! You certainly are at home in the house! Can I
slip out through this door? "
Munzer had started up; Kettenberg also raised himself
from his half-lying position.
"What a fire-brand you are! " he said. "But that is all
right; your face says so! Through this door? Certainly!
It opens upon a long passage, and the passage leads to the
grand staircase. I have a great mind to run away with you,
but I cannot offend little Aurelia so grievously. You have
your hat, have you? Well then, addio, doctor! Give vent
to your wrath in a few beautiful stanzas-that relieves the
heart! Your muse has been silent long enough! Addiol
Always keep to the left! "
Munzer shook hands with the painter, and went through
the door into the passage, down which he kept till he came
to the brilliantly-lighted hall. As he crossed it in order to
reach the staircase, a servant, not in livery, met him with a
waiter in his hand. Munzer thought he knew that yellow,
smiling iace, but he could not recollect where he had seen
it. The man with the yellow face stopped after Munzer had
passed him, made a malicious face, and said:
"There he runs away, the proud fool! What a stupid!
Does not look to the right or the left! There is food for the
baroness! But I'll pay you both; just wait! "
As Munzer went down the broad staircase, covered with a
superb carpet, he heard behind him the rustling of a lady's
dress. He paid no attention. But the rustling came nearer;




244           The HIouse of Hohenstein.
and when he reached the front door, which a porter, all goldlace, opened promptly, he heard the step so close behind
him that he stepped aside to let the lady pass.  The lady,
whose face was closely veiled, made a slight bow, and hastened by him.
Before the front-door an elegant close-carriage was waiting. The coachman evidently had great trouble in keeping
quiet the fiery young horses, which had probably been made
impatient by long waiting. At the moment when the lady
was going to put her foot on the step, which the servant had
let down, the off-horse reared, the servant jumped aside, and
the lady was evidently in imminent danger of being thrown
under the wheels.  Munzer hastened up and seized her.
She slipped from his arms, fell to the ground, and then, seizing his hands, she said quickly:
" It is I-Antonia! You wished to avoid me, but you see
chance is stronger than we are. Come with me; I have
something important to tell you. Will you come?"
At the first sound of Antonia's voice, Munzer had been
seized with a tremor of delight, and the next moment his
proud blood had rushed from his heart to his head, and with
a dark frown on his brow, he hissed rather than said, through
his angrily compressed teeth:
" I will! It is better so, for you and myself!"
He helped Antonia into the carriage, stepped in and drew
to the door. The servant was on the box by the coachman.
The latter; now quite sure of himself, whipped the horses
fiercely; the fiery animals gave a tremendous plunge, and
the carriage thundered down the long street.
-0CHAPTER VII.
THE carriage thundered down the streets, one after another, and neither Antonia nor Munzer had yet said
a word. Munzer's heart was full of indignation, but
he'could not prevent it from being gradually soothed and
softened by the close contact with the beautiful woman,




The House of Hohenstein.         245
whose presence filled the small space, as it were, with the
fragrance of roses and violets. She had shrunk back into
the furthest corner of the carriage, and he glanced at her
only once, when he saw by the bright light streaming upon
her from a brilliantly-lighted shop, that her fair countenance
was very pale, and the tears were flowing down her cheeks.
Then he felt as if he were in a heavy, oppressive dream,
from which he could not rouse himself. He saw the lights
in the houses flit by the carriage; he did not notice that
they ought long since to have accomplished the short distance between the president's house and Antonia's; he did
not observe how the carriage thundered through a narrow
winding gateway, rolling afterwards softly over a wooden
bridge, rattling once more through another gateway and
over another bridge; that instead of long rows of brick
houses, villas with pretty gardens lined the wayside-he saw
nothing but the fair pale face with the tears streaming down;
he heard nothing but from time to time a low sob, and suddenly the carriage stopped.
" Where are we? " asked Munzer.
" Follow me! " replied Antonia, touching his hand.
The servant opened the carriage door.
"Are the horses to be taken out, ma'am?"
" No, not till I send word."
The villa, covered with creepers, had a small garden in
front, in which a pretty fountain was playing. In the hall
of the house Antonia's maid received the new-comers, a light
in her hand. The girl cast a quick glance at the gentleman,
but she must have been well trained, or such visitors were
not of rare occurrence at the house, for she did not show
any surprise. She opened a door, which led into a room
opposite the entrance, lighted the wax-candles in the silver
candelabra which stood upon a centre-table, and at a nod
from her mistress she went out, without venturing to cast a
second look at the stranger.
While the girl had lighted the candles, Antonia had
slowly pulled off her gloves and her hood and laid both on
the table; then, when the maid had left the room, she sat
down in one of the richly-carved chairs which stood about
the room, buried her face in her hands, and broke out into
passionate weeping.




246            The House of Hohenstein.
Munzer had stood by in silence; now he walked up to
her and said in a low, firm voice:
" Baroness, we shall not understand each other thus, and
still it is important for both of us not to go on in this way."
" You are right! " replied Antonia, resting her beautiful
head in one hand, while the other hung down listlessly; " you
are quite right."
She stared at vacancy. Suddenly she made a great effort
to rouse herself.  "Air, air! " she exclaimed; "I feel
stifled. Come! I shall feel better out-doors; we can talk
better there-come! "
From the room a glass-door opened upon the terrace, and
from thence a few steps led down into the garden, where the
fresh young foliage of magnificent old trees was glittering
brightly in the rays of the moon. The stream whose waters
blinked here and there through the shrubbery, breathed coolness into the superb avenues, which still retained the heat
of the day. In the tops of thick tufted chestnut-trees, low
dreamy voices of birds were heard, and from a lilac-bush
came the gushing song of a nightingale. Sweet peace, soft
repose, filled the beautiful garden; but they knew nothing of
peace and rest, the two impassioned beings who were wandering about in the dusky avenues, silent from deep emotion.
Only once Antonia had seized Munzer's hands, exclaim,
ing: " Have pity on me! " Then they had walked up and
down again for some time in perfect silence. In vain did
Munzer try to break the charm which seemed to hold his
heart captive. Each time as he was about to utter the decisive words, his heart trembled within him-this ardent heart
that would not be set free, that demanded imperiously its
right to beat in unison with another as ardent, and to pour
out its fiery passion into another passionate bosom.  All
that had passed through his soul a short time before, suddenly vanished; all his indignation at seeing himself once
more held captive in bonds which he had resolved to break
forever-he knew nothing and felt nothing but tlat the beautiful woman, pale and silent, was by his side, that he loved
her again, and that this love would bring him death.
Suddenly Antonia paused, pressing her hands to her temples. "I have forgotten everything, everything! " she said.




The House of Hohenstein.         247
"Then let it be forgotten!" said Munzer, with apathetic
voice. " Can we do better than forget it all?"
" I dare not forget, I will not forget! I must tell you all.
It will drive me to despair if I must live on as I have lived
these last days."
"Despair?" said Munzer; "who tells you that we are
not desperate already, both of us?"
" No, no! " cried Antonia, passionately; "I am not desperate. I know what I felt when I first saw you, what has
since followed me in my waking moments and in my dreams,
what I feel most clearly in the dark night-and people who
feel so have not yet given themselves up to despair! "
Antonia had paused again; through the darkness her
eyes shone with the dew of freshly-wept tears. Munzer
gazed with trembling delight at those beautiful eyes.
" Fairest of women! " he murmured. "You are too fair
for this earth! What do you know of the din and turmoil of
the rude life of men? You could not be so fair if you knew
it. And if you were to learn to know this misery through
me, I should curse the hour in which I first saw you. But
you shall never know it; to-morrow you will laugh at the
seriousness with which you gave yourself up to-day to such
an emotion. And you are right, perfectly right. To laugh
and be merry-to kiss and be beautiful-that is your vocation. Why should you weep? unless it be because you
know that tears make you still more beautiful! "
" I expected that from you," said Antonia, in a low, sad
voice. "You judge me as the world judges me, and thatthat I cannot endure! I have never troubled myself about
the world's opinion-what is that stupid, foolish world to
me? But you, you-I do not ask you for anything. I know
you cannot love me, you will not love me. But you ought
not therefore to despise me. No, not despise me! "
And Antonia raised her hands as if in supplication to
Munzer.
"I despise you? What right could I have to despise
you?"
" But you do it. I know, I feel you do it. When you
entered my brother-in-law's rooms to-night, I saw it in the
glance of your eyes, in the tremor of your lips. I ought
to have known that you would not grant my request and stay




248            The House of Hohenstein.
till I had seen you; but if you had stayed, you would have
seen that I should not have remained, and that I should not
have made myself an instrument in my brother's hands. It
was a mere accident that I left the party when you did."
" I do not understand you," said Munzer, seating himself
by Antonia's side on a bench. "You speak in riddles.
What did the president want of you?"
Antonia made no reply. The silvery light of the moon,
which fell through the trees upon the bench on which they
sat, showed Munzer that Antonia's fair face was almost disfigured by deep emotion, that her bosom rose restlessly, and
that her whole figure was trembling and shaking. He took
her hand; it was icy.
" Let us go in!" he said. " Your light party dress and
your shawl are not enough to protect you against the cool of
the evening.
"No, no! Let us stay here! " said Antonia, withdrawing
her hand from Munzer's, and wrapping herself more closely
in her shawl. " I cannot speak in the house. Listen! You
do not know what the president wanted of me? I will
tell you. He ordered me not to let your hand go again if I
once held it; he ordered me to love you or at least to pretend to love you till you loved me also, till you were entirely
devoted to me, till I could do-as he expressed it-with you
whatever I chose."
"Ordered you?" said Munzer. "What right has the
president to order you to do anything? And what makes
him think at all that there are such relations between us?"
"He knew you had been at my house night before last."
"Through Colonel Hohenstein? "
" Perhaps so-but certainly through my valet Jean, whom
I dismissed that same night, and who is now in the president's service."
" But, madam, instead of enlightening me, you add riddle
to riddle."
"Do you say so in mockery, or do you mean what you
say? " inquired Antonia, looking fixedly at Munzer.
"I speak what I think."
"You see," said Antonia with the same fixed searching
glance, "if I were as clever as people say I am, I would
confirm you in your good opinion of myself. For you are




The House of Hohenstein.         249
good and noble, generous and warm-hearted, and would believe me if I said: what the world says about me is all a
lie; I am not a hard-hearted coquette; I have not betrayed
one man after another! I will tell you the truth-not because I fear the president, for if I were afraid of slander I
should not have dismissed my man-servant, but becauseoh God! I hardly know myself why I should humble myself so low before you."
Spasmodic sobs broke from Antonia's bosom, but she
checked the violent emotion by a great effort, and continued
in a calmer tone:
" You told me how humble and how wretched the circumstances were in which you grew up as a boy, and what
trouble and suffering you endured as a young man-I have
thought of it so much! I have waked up out of my sleep,
because I dreamt you were pursued by wolves, fleeing across
a glen between snow-covered mountains, and I could not
help you. And then I said to myself again, he is a man and
can help himself. I-I have been born and bred in wealth and
splendor; not bred, though, for no one ever troubled himself
about my education. I was allowed to do or not to do what I
chose, without ever having one sober thought, without knowing anything except that I was rich and beautiful, and might
enjoy life as I liked. Then I was married. Baron Hohenstein was just then returning from South America, where
he had served for twenty years in the armies of as many republics. I liked him better than the others, because he
flattered less clumsily than they did, and because he had
seen and heard so much, and especially because his sombre,
reserved manner interested me deeply. They told me he
had been the wildest among the wild in former days. It
felt no love for him. I never thought whether I should be
happier with him than with anybody else; I only knew we
should travel together over the wide world. That was the
only condition I had made. And we did travel from one
watering-place to another, and the poor man could not re-'
cover his health anywhere; and thus we travelled, one, two,
three years, and with every year he became more sombre and
more reserved, and I-well, I was young and fond of the
world. I had not married to become nurse to a man whom I
did not love, and who did not care for my love. He told me
11*:




250            The House of Hohenstein.
so often enough himself. Then he died. I only felt that I
was free once more; that he was released from his sufferings,
and I was released from the pain of witnessing them. I
did not care to marry again, for if I had despised men before, I despised them now more than ever. I wanted a toy
for my caprices, and-I told you I had been taught no principles but the one, to enjoy life as I could and might-  "
Antonia's voice trembled as she said this, and her breath
came and went as she whispered in low, broken accents, like
one who is forced to speak amid severe pain:
" I never believed in love-never-never-till it was too
late!"
She sighed deeply, and passed her hand over her brow
and her eyes. Then she rose. Munzer followed her.
Let us go in!" she said.
But they did not go in.  They sauntered once more
through the dusky avenues, silent and helpless, because
both felt that the last word had not been uttered yet, and
neither had the courage to utter that which must unite or
part them forever.
At last Munzer said, and his deep voice trembled:
"Antonia, listen to me calmly. Let us think and act
nobly. That is difficult, but it is after all the easiest. You
love me. By telling me the story of your ill-fated life just
now, you have given me the strongest proof of it that a
woman can give. And I, Antonia, I tell you I have always
believed in love, but I have never thought such love as I
believed in was possible in this world, till-I saw you. And
yet you are right: it is too late for you and for me. I cannot abandon my most sacred convictions; I cannot combat
for justice, if I am not just myself, if I no longer act up to
my principle that every man must be content with his modest share of happiness, so that the others may have theirs
also. Antonia, if I were to give way to the unbounded passion which draws me to you, I should burn down the hut in
which my wife and my children dwell. I do not love my wife
as I love you; but I do love her. I do not love my children
as I know I should love them if they were yours; but I do
love them. I must be content; be you also content! "
Munzer could not see Antonia's face, as the moon had
sunk behind a cloud, and tall trees overshadowed the place




The House of IoAhenstein.        251
where they stood; but he heard her low sobs. Infinite sadness fell upon him; his eyes began to burn; his bosom
swelled as if it must burst.
"Antonia! "
The beautiful impassioned woman sank in his arms, and
their hot kisses met.
Suddenly the clear, sharp ringing of the bell of a steamer
sounded through the silent night. Startled, Antonia tore
herself from Munzer, and hastened, hardly knowing what she
was doing, deeper into the darkness of the garden. Munzer
remained where he was, with beating heart; he felt as if
the iron tongue of the bell was summoning him back to the
world and to his duty.
And at that moment he heard, through the noise of the
swell, as it rushed up the river-side, the anxious cry of a
drowning person: " Help, help!"
A wooden gate, a few yards only from where he stood,
opened from the garden upon the road by the bank of the
river. With a few steps, Munzer was near the water. A
little boat was dancing on the waves; in the boat a couple
of little children, who stretched out their arms for help; and
at that moment a larger wave came up, the boat danced and
rose, and one of the boys shot head-foremost into the roaring river.
With one effort of his strong arm, Munzer had broken
down the fence. The next moment he was standing up to
his arm-holes in the water, and there a few feet from him a
head and an arm rose, but only to disappear again instantly.
A few powerful efforts brought Munzer to the spot where
the boy had sunk, and there close before him he rose
once more. Munzer seized the child, and as he held it,
while swimming to the shore, up to the faint light of the
moon, he recognized with unspeakable horror the deadly
pale face of his own son, of his child, whose sweet blue eyes
had smiled up to him so joyously and so tenderly only a
few hours ago.
With the strength of despair Munzer made his way to the
shore; he felt the ground under his feet; he raised himself,
holding the boy on high; the tender little body hung loose
and lifeless in his arms.
Munzer stood on shore-it was high time. The soil gave




252            The House of 1iohenstein.
way beneath him; dimly, as through a mist, he saw several
figures approaching; he heard, or he thought he heard, a
voice crying: " My child! my child!" Then a fearful roaring filled his ears; all grew dark around him, and he sank
down fainting.
CHAPTER VIII.
H   OWEVER much the alderman desired to come to an
understanding with his son, he could not make up
his mind to meet him face to face till the morning of
the following day. Yesterday it had seemed to him as if he
were not yet prepared for an interview of such great importance. Nevertheless he had employed the rest of the day
in pushing the affair, and had succeeded in carrying it so
far forward that his son must act as his father desired if he
did not wish to commit him most painfully. And that had
been the alderman's intention. "I must meet him with a
fait accompli; if he cannot retrace his steps, he will go on."
That was all very well, but the hardest part was yet to be
done. Baron Hohenstein was painfully conscious that he
and his son had differed through life on most questions, and
on the gravest questions had differed most widely; yet now
harmony was all-important.
"If he should refuse!" said the father to himself, as he
locked his room before going up to Wolfgang-and at the
thought, apprehensions overcame him which seemed to imperil all that had yet been done. But time pressed-in an
hour the president's wife had agreed to come with her
daughters in order to inquire how the dear patient was today. By that time everything must be settled. The alderman summoned all his energy-the great game on which
so much had been staked must be played out.
Whilst thus cunning hands were busily weaving the fine
meshes in which Wolfgang was to be caught, he himself,
unconscious of what was going on, was painting bright
pictures of a happy future. The sense of new returning




The House of Hohenstein.         253
strength, combined with the sweet consciousness-doubly
sweet in a pure, chaste heart-that he loved and was beloved,
had filled his soul with a joyousness such as he did not remember ever having felt since the days of his childhood.
The picture appeared to him like the fair sunny land which
the eager pilgrim sees from the height of a mountain, the
sight of which rejoices his eye and his heart, and which he
feels in advance will be the scene of a series of charming
adventures. His knowledge of the way, to be sure, is not
very accurate. He even apprehends the path may be hard
to find, he may have to contend with many difficulties, and
to overcome many obstacles. But that is only an additional
charm. He is young, he is full of vigor and strengtheverything, even the path, the unknown path, will easily be
found.
A slight, almost timid knock at the door interrupted the
young man in his peaceful meditations. No doubt it was his
mother, who, strangely enough, had not yet been to see him
this morning; she should find him asleep, and he would not
answer-and then be surprised to find him sitting fully
dressed, in an old arm-chair in the middle of the room. The
knock was repeated-but louder and impatiently. " Come
in! " said Wolfgang, instinctively rising from his chair and
going to the door.
" It is you, papa!"
" Yes, my son! " said the alderman, embracing Wolfgang
most tenderly. "I have not been allowed to see you for
some days, you bad boy; but who taught you to be fast asleep
every time your father came to see you? Well, well! I am
glad to see you look so well again! But sit down, my boy;
I am tired, very tired! These are hard times, and they give
me more work to do than I like."
" You really look quite exhausted, father!" said Wolfgang,
sitting down again in his arm-chair, after his father had taken
a seat on the sofa at some little distance from him. "How
do things look in town, and out in the great world? I am
entirely ignorant of what has happened since I came back
from Rheinfeld, and in fact since I went there."
"Because the affairs of our own life occupy us so exclusively, eh?" said the alderman, smiling. "Well, well, you
need not blush so, my boy! Sooner or later I should have




254            The House of Hiohenstein.
heard it anyhow, and I confess I amvery heartily glad to have
heard it just now."
Wolfgang could not misunderstand his father's words, and
yet they embarrassed him excessively. He had from childhood
up been such a stranger to his father; they had hardly ever
exchanged a kind, confidential word-and now he suddenly
found his father in possession of all his most sacred secrets!
For the first time in his life Wolfgang felt almost angry with his
mother. Why did she tell his father? and without asking
him, without preparing him for this scene? It was not kind
in his mother.
The alderman was far too wise a man not to interpret
rightly the confused mien and the dark, almost shy glance of
his son's eye.
" We have to make up for past time," he said, " and I, my
dear Wolfgang, am determined to avail myself of this joyful
opportunity for the purpose. We ought to have thought before this happened, how important mutual confidence is to
both of us for our happiness. However, nothing is lost. I
could willingly leave your mother to receive your confidence,
for what has been done so far can hardly have been of very
great importance. ~ But now the matter has a different aspect.
You are on the point of determining, by a single act, the
character of your whole future, and I know you too well not
to be aware that the first step on the new road will pledge
you to all the rest. Here the father must claim his rights
and do his duty. You will not reject, I am sure, his friendly
hand offered with hearty good-will and warmest affection.
Will you, my son? "
The alderman had said. this so gently, the deep emotion
in his soul was so clearly expressed in his eloquent face,
that Wolfgang took his father's hand with deep feeling-a
feeling no doubt much increased in strength by his nervous
weakness, the result of his indisposition.
The alderman was triumphant; he had not hoped for so
easy a victory. He congratulated his son on the choice
he had made, especially as there was no opposition to it on
any side, and everybody looked upon it with favor, as a token
that the long-desired reconciliation between the members of
the family was at length to be permanently established.
He said, laughing:




The House of Hohenstein.         255
"You happy children fancied yourselves unobserved while
you were admiring sun, moon, and stars in the beautiful park
at Rheinfeld; but we old people had long since put our heads
together before your hearts came together. And do you
know who took, from the beginning, the most lively interest
in the whole project? Your granduncle himself! I believe
the old gentleman would be inconsolable if by some misfortune or other the plan should not succeed; and not only inconsolable, but angry-so angry that, violent and passionate as
he is    "
The alderman paused and passed his hand over his brow.
He had noticed that during the last words Wolfgang's face
had assumed a much less pleased expression. Indeed, the
young man's delicacy was offended by this discovery of men
who spied out his movements and formed plans behind his
back, intruding as he thought improperly upon the holiness
of his love. Still, he suppressed his sensitiveness, and said,
with a somewhat forced smile:
" I assure you, papa, I have no desire to bring down granduncle's wrath upon myself, and I hardly imagine Camilla
will think differently about that "
"Well, that is very nice, very nice," said the alderman.
"Your granduncle has spoken to you about the condition
which he appends on his part to his consent, has he not?"
"Granduncle? A condition?" replied Wolfgang, quite
astonished.
"Hm, hm! I wonder he did not! I received a letter
from him yesterday morning, and from what he said there I
concluded he had spoken to you and agreed with you about
that point. Has your granduncle never told you the plans
he has formed for your future, for your career in life?"
"He has often enough hinted at it, that he meant to do
something, but I always took that merely for an expression
of his good-will generally, and not in any special sense."
"Hm, hm! Well, in this letter he mentioned his plan very
much in detail. I am all the more pleased with his project,
as I should have acted in that direction myself, years ago, if
circumstances had been as favorable then as they are now."
"But, dear papa, what is that mysterious plan?" asked
Wolfgang, who felt more and more annoyed by the turn
which the conversation had taken.




256           Tlhe House of Hohoestein.
"Nothing else," replied the alderman, with half-affected
solemnity, " than that we should all be pleased to see you
follow that profession which is in my eyes the only one fit
for a nobleman, which all the Hohensteins for many a generation have followed, with very few exceptions; which I
followed myself, and only abandoned, with great grief, for
your mother's sake   "
"I am to become a soldier?" cried Wolfgang, who had
started up during the last words, and was walking up and
down the room in very great excitement.
"An officer, if you please."
"Never-never! "
The alderman had most confidently expected this refusal,
and was therefore by no means surprised. Nevertheless he
thought it best to assume an air of astonishment and sorrow,
and to say with subdued voice:
"And may I ask, my son, why you reject a profession to
which so many of your ancestors have belonged?"
"I am not prepared, father," replied Wolfgang, "to give
you a satisfactory answer to that question. My whole life,
if you choose, is my answer. I see in every special privilege
granted to one class at the expense of others, a grievous
wrong, a crying injustice, a deep, painful sore in our social
condition. Now, which class is more completely divided off
from the rest of society than the officer class? where else
will you find so many medieval prejudices, full of injustice
and absurdity, still surviving? Where else has a man of
my views or my principles so little prospect to live in fraternal love with his fellow-men, as in that profession?  No,
my dear father, to belong to it would be a misfortune to me
as it was to you."
"Mv misfortune? " said the alderman, offended. "I could
have borne the misfortune of being an officer very well; I
have, you know, but little sympathy with your new-fashioned,
visionary ideas."
" That may be, father, but you have a heart, and your own
history is the best evidence that men in that profession are
not permitted such a luxury. Why would they not let you
marry my mother? Because she was neither rich nor of
noble birth! What have wealth and noble birth to do.fith
love? Why did you leave the army? Because you did not




The House 6J Hohenstein.          257
wish to belong to a class of men who suppress every noble
feeling for the sake of a false sense of honor. Father, you
cannot seriously advise me to choose a profession which
stands in such a false, untenable position to all other classes
of society."
" I have let you finish, dear Wolfgang," replied the alderman, with a calmness belied by the pallor of his cheeks and
the evil expression of his eyes; "now listen to me!
What you have said just now makes me regret more than
ever that I have not sooner tried to make my influence felt
in your heart-the influence of a man not highly educated,
but sober, and I hope intelligent. You have been allowed
to drift into a direction which fills me with great anxiety for
your future; the same direction in which I see all those
men engaged, who, like your uncle Peter, are ready to overthrow the existing forms of society for the sake of an impossible Utopia. But let us leave all theories, and think
only of the case before us. The matter is this: Your granduncle offers you the prospect, if not the certainty, of becoming his heir; that is to say, of obtaining in one moment,
and without any effort of your own, a fortune such as other
men spend their lives in acquiring. In return he only asks
you to comply with his request. And what is it he asks?
That you should become an officer in the army and marry
Camilla! If you refuse what Fortune offers you thus with
liberal hand, you have not the slightest prospect of ever
calling Camilla your own, for your granduncle is not the
man to allow himself to be offended with impunity. He will
undoubtedly withdraw his favor from you, and the others will
follow his example. Then you are again where you were
before you went to Rheinfeld, a poor student, who has no
better prospects for life than the son of your tailor or shoemaker, if he has earned enough money in the sweat of his
face to send a son to the university."
"Better that," murmured Wolfgang, "than to become an
apostate!"
The alderman rose from the sofa and said in a quiet tone,
but with pale lips and quivering with excitement:
" Well then! follow your convictions! Sacrifice your own
happiness, and the happiness of a girl who loves you, and
whom you profess to love! And if that is not enough sacri



258           The House of Hohenstein.
fice, you can console yourself with the thought that you
might have saved your father from ruin, and that you have
let him perish for the sake of your convictions."
He covered his face with his hands and went to the door.
Wolfgang hastened after him and held him.
" For God's sake, father, what do you mean?"
"Let me go! " replied the alderman. "What is your
father's fate to you? "
" Father, I beseech you, do not leave me thus! Forget
what I said! Do not leave me with such a fearful reproach
on my conscience! Speak out! You can trust me; I am
no longer the thoughtless boy I may seem to be from my
words. I am not an ungrateful son, to whom his father's
fate is indifferent. I beseech you, father, tell me what oppresses you!"
Wolfgang had gently drawn his father back to the sofa,
and sitting down by his side, looked anxiously at him with
his honest blue eyes.
" I thank you, my son, for your sympathy," said the alderman, with a low, deeply-moved voice. "I know you are
kind-hearted, and what I said just now was rashly said.
Forgive me! I wanted, if possible, not to speak of myself
at all, so as to leave you free to do what you chose, but it
was not to be so. I am ruined, Wolfgang. I must speak
candidly. I stand so, that if I do not obtain assistance, I
shall have to apply for the benefit of the bankrupt-law. But
I cannot and shall not survive such a disgrace. And yet I
see no other way to escape than a reconciliation with my
uncle, the only man who is able to help, and who will help
the father of his future heir, his favorite nephew.  If you
comply with his urgent request, as he states it in his letter to
me, you can fairly count upon half of his fortune as your property, and thus help would come to me from him from whom
I should like best to receive it-from you, my dear son!"
The alderman had spoken himself into such an emotion
that the tears came into his eyes. He embraced his son,
sobbing violently. Wolfgang was touched.
"Dear father," he said, in a low but firm voice, "you can
count upon me. After all, a man may be an honest man in
every position in life; but I know of no position in life in
which I would not despair, if I had abandoned my father in




The House of Hohenstein.         259
the hour of misfortune. And now one thing more. Does
mamma know of your embarrassment?"
" No, and she must never know it."
" That is what I meant to say. She has trouble enough
as it is, and I fear the prospect of seeing me in officer's uniform will not contribute to her peace. Does she know it?"
"Yes; I told her yesterday."
"I thought there was something weighing on her mind
that she could not or would not tell me. That is, no doubt,
why she has not been up here all the morning! Shall we
see where she is?"
"With pleasure, my darling boy," said the alderman.
"Rest on my arm, even if it were only to give your mother
the pleasure of seeing us enter her room together. Come,
my boy!"
And the alderman smiled as he took his son's arm in his
own with friendly care-the smile of the gambler who has
followed the rolling of the little ball with anguish, and now
hears the banker call out the numbers on which he has
staked his last gold piece.
-0CHAPTER IX.
T    HEY did not find Margaret in her room. Ursula said
she was probably in the garden.
The large garden in the rear of the house extended
far down between neighboring houses till it reached the
town-wall. The house and the garden belonged, as did
almost the whole street, to the convent opposite, and the
alderman had every reason to be content with his landlords.
They required only a very moderate rent, had never raised
it during twenty years, and troubled themselves so little
about their tenants, that the alderman could occasionally
speak of "his own house" without fear of contradiction.
But Wolfgang also, whose earliest recollections were connected with this house, could not imagine that others should
ever dwell in these rooms; and as for Margaret, she had




260            The House of Hohenstein.
quite recently assured Wolfgang that she did not know how
she would be able to live if she should ever have to part
with her garden. The garden was her favorite resort, and
here she spent, during the warm season, nearly all the hours
in which the weather permitted her being out of doors.
Early in the morning, already she could be seen almost
daily wandering slowly up and down between the flowerbeds and in the shady walks. Those were Margaret's happiest hours. The soft, balsamic air of the garden was the
most congenial atmosphere for her gentle heart, so full of
love, so thirsting after love. Here she could, undisturbed, indulge in all her fancies; could dream herself far away from
this rude, hard, pitiless world-far away in regions where
mine and thine were no longer ruling motives, and where
men dared love and be loved, without asking first how it
affected their credit. And never did Margaret seek refuge
here more eagerly than when she had some sorrow which
oppressed her heart in the small close rooms. Here, amid
her roses and carnations, she could breathe more freely;
here she could find tears, and with her tears that calm, humble resignation, the last refuge of characters which are weak
by nature or broken by cruel fate.
Margaret was in such hours like the wounded bird that
crouches in the furrow drawn by the plough-share, and quietly
bleeds to death. Since the day before, this feeling of being
wounded unto death had not left her a moment. Wolfgang's
attachment to Camilla was to her an unmistakable evidence
that even in her son's heart there was something which she
could not comprehend, with which she could not sympathize;
and in the project to force him into a military career, she
saw the completion of the triumph which those proud, uncongenial Hohensteins achieved over her, the poor printer's
daughter. She had sacrificed her own peace, the calm,
quiet happiness of her life, to the, arrogance of this family;
and now her son also, her only, dearly-beloved son, was to be
torn from her, to serve their selfish interests. But Peter had
predicted years ago that this would come to pass! that the
nobles were like fire, which can live only by destruction, and
that she would not be able to save herself or her son from
this fire! At that time, when Arthur Hohenstein swore on
his knees that he loved her more than rank and position




The House of Hohenstein.         261
and riches, more than his life, she had shut her ear to her
brother's warning voice; but since then every year had
made her feel more clearly the bitter truth in those words,
and the yesterday had shown her the prophecy literally fulfilled. She felt as if since yesterday an abyss had opened
between her and her son, as if she was standing quite alone
now in the world, a stranger in her husband's house, a
stranger in the old house in River street! No; not a stranger
there! Her brother Peter would never forsake her; her
sister Bella might in her warmth speak harshly, but she
would, nevertheless, be ready to share with her her last
mouthful, as in old times; and now she had, also, that sweet,
dear girl, of whom she had become so fond in a few hours.
But she had been told she must not love her relatives, she
must have no relatives, she must not spoil her husband's
plans by her family sentimentality!
"Ahem, ahem!"
Margaret started and looked up at the high garden-wall,
covered with grape-vines; but she could not help smiling in
the midst of her grief, as she saw right above her, old Moss,
who was leaning with both arms on the upper edge, and apparently stared fixedly at the white clouds that were slowly
floating across the blue sky. Margaret and old Moss were
very good friends, and it was not the first time that neighbor
Moss manifested in this manner his interest, in the fair lady.
"Good morning, neighbor!" said Margaret.
Moss looked once more, protecting his eyes with his hand,
at the clouds, as if the voice he had heard must have come
from there, and only after that down into the garden and
upon Margaret.
"All well?" said Moss.
" Quite well," replied Margaret.
" The boy?"
"Also well!"
Moss shook his.head, as if he doubted her words.
"Harness wrong!" he said.
Margaret looked up inquiringly at the strange old man.
Moss pointed with the thumb of his right hand over his
left shoulder in the direction in which Rheinfeld might
possibly lie, and said,
"Hohensteins are Hohensteins!"




262           The House of Hohenstein.
Thereupon he disappeared from the wall with a rapidity
which shook the rounds of the ladder on which he had been
standing.
Margaret was not quite sure of what the old man could
have meant by his last mysterious words; but as she turned
around, the cause of his sudden disappearance became evident in the person of her husband and her son, whom she
saw coming up the garden-walk, arm in arm. Arm in arm!
She had never seen them thus before. The sight wounded
her heart. Her husband now occupied her place; she had
been driven from her Wolfgang's heart; she was nothing now.
Wolfgang made himself free from his father's arm, and
hastened to meet his mother, to press her with the full tenderness of his heart to his bosom, still trembling with the
excitement of the last scene with his father.
It required nothing more to melt the stony despair which
had overpowered the poor woman, into tears of joy.
Warmed by the full sunlight of her son's affection, she threw
herself on his heart and sobbed: "If you only love me,
Wolfgang, I do not mind what happens."
The alderman stepped up.
" Good morning, Margie! " he said, seizing her hand and
carrying it up to his lips with his own graceful courtesy;
" you did not think we two would surprise you here? But
you need not be afraid for Wolfgang!  I told you we
Hohensteins have good constitutions. Yesterday half dead,
and to-day sound as a fish in water. Is it not a pleasure
to see how quickly the boy has recovered? "
" But would we not better go in?" asked Margaret, replying with a sweet smile to her husband's gallantry. "I fear
it will be too much after all for Wolfgang! "
" By no means, mamma dear," said Wolfgang; "on the
contrary, the beautiful warm sun, the singing of the birds,
and the balmy air-all do me good. Your Eden has wonderfully improved since I saw it last! Then it looked rather
bare; now all is blooming and growing as handsomely as in
tle park at Rheinfeld."
The alderman laughed. "In the park at Rheinfeld!
Your Eden! Of course, nothing can compare with that!
But you are right; the old park is magnificent, thoroughly
aristocratic in spite of being so neglected. You will like it,




The House of Hohenstein.         263
too, dear Margie, when the old grizzly-beard no longer looks
out of the windows between the ornate carvings, and when
Wolfgang and Camilla rule at the chateau. You need not look
so anxious, Margie! Wolfgang and I understand each other
fully. His choice has my consent and the approbation of
all his relatives; there is no need for secrecy here, as when
I went a courting. Yes, Margie, those days were different;
rather more romantic, perhaps, but prodigiously embarrassing. Here all is clear and simple; everybody knows what
he means to do and what he ought to do. And I have also
talked with Wolfgang about the point that gave so much
anxiety, Margie. Wolfgang is a dear boy, who stands by
his father and is able to give up his own preferences when
he can do something for the welfare of the family. You
shall not repent of your readiness, my boy! Officers lead
a very pleasant kind of life, especially if they are well supported, as you will be by the old gentleman, and also by the
president, whose special interest it will be to push you as
fast as he can. And as for your favorite pursuits-your
books and your piano-why, you know nobody has more leisure for such things than an officer; and Goethe or SchillerI forget which, but one of them says somewhere:' In our
society nobody has so agreeable a position as an officer'-or
something of the kind. But, great heavens! I verily believe we are going to have most charming visitors: my sister
and the girls! "
The alderman was pleasantly surprised, although the visitors appeared punctually at the appointed hour. Margaret
began to tremble, and Wolfgang had evidently lost the
modest firmness which generally distinguished him so favorably among other young men. The president's wife, on
the contrary, seemed even more self-confident than usual.
From afar off already she gave them all to understand that
she knew everything, that she gave her consent to everything,
and that she came now to express her consent formally and
publicly. She hastened a few steps in advance of her
daughters, and embraced with ardent affection first Margaret,
then the alderman, and at last Wolfgang also, the latter with
the words, " My dear, dear son!" Camilla followed her
mother's example with much tact and a clear comprehension
of the situation.




264            The House of Hohenstein.
"Bravo! bravo!" said the alderman; "the dear children! but let us leave the-young people to themselves.
They will have much to tell each other. We can go into
the garden-house, and they will find a snug, secret place
somewhere else."
Wolfgang and Camilla did not wait for further hints. The
next moment they were alone, and hastened, arm in arm,
further into the garden, which seemed, with its grand old
trees, the dense foliage of which hardly allowed here and
there a ray of sunlight to pass, and with its tall, blooming
shrubs, in which the birds were singing merrily, to be specially made for lovers who seek a solitude. Wolfgang had
forgotten all his cares and troubles when he saw his beloved
near him; and these cares and anxieties which a few moments before oppressed his heart, now only served to make
him appreciate more the happiness of loving this charming
creature and of being beloved by her. And surely even a
colder heart than his might have been carried away by Camilla's dream-like beauty. She had never appeared to Wolfgang so marvellously glorious. His eyes hung with a delight,
which increased every moment, on this being on whom Nature had capriciously lavished her most attractive outlines
and her fairest colors. What tenderness beamed from those
light-brown eyes, overshadowed by dark eye-lashes! How
charming were those delicately-shaped lips, those noblyformed cheeks tinged now with deep blushes! How round
and slender were the fingers of the small, soft hand, as she
slowly drew off her gloves, when they seated themselves side
by side under a huge chestnut-tree! And how well the
small foot harmonized with it, which she quickly drew back
under her dress as Wolfgang looked eagerly at it! And
how slender and graceful the delicate form, which Wolfgang
touched as he sat down by her! The very voice seemed to
be softer and sweeter than any music he had ever heard;
and yet she said but a few words in reply to his rapturous
eloquence, and an unbiassed listener would have been struck
by the fact that not one of these words bespoke an active
inner life in the fair speaker.
The alderman and his sister-in-law had not remained long
in the garden-house. A little spider had run across the
lady's hand-and she hated spiders. The gallant alderman




The House of Hohenstein.         265
proposed a short walk, and Aurelia declared her intention to
keep her aunt company, as she seemed to be not quite well.
The two former had scarcely left, when Aurelia turned
warmly to Margaret, and seizing both of her hands, said in
a low voice: " I love you very dearly; you have such good,
truthful eyes. You can trust me? "
"Willingly," said Margaret, not a little astonished, perhaps even a little frightened by this sudden appeal, but
gratefully accepting the friendship of her niece with the
readiness of timid and forsaken people.
" I am a little light-headed," said Aurelia, moving close up
to Margaret and looking sharply at her face with her bright,
lively eyes; "at least so they say, and I suppose it must be
true. That means, I like to be gay, and I ant passionately
fond of dancing; but I mean it well, and if I love anybody
I could go through fire and water for him if there were any
call for it."
"That is nice! " said Margaret, who sympathized with
her new friend at least in this point. "You are a dear,
sweet child!"
" Do you think so?" asked Aurelia. "My mother always
says I am not."
"Oh!" said Margaret.
"Yes, and why?" continued Aurelia, speaking more
eagerly and almost in a whisper; " because I do not know
how to flatter people as Camilla does, and because I like to
speak my mind freely, as I did this morning. I said,'If
Wolfgang really loves Camilla so supernaturally dearly, he
will come of himself. I do not think it looks particularly
delicate to run to his house under the pretext of inquiring
after his health.' Well, my dear aunt, I must tell you candidly, your Wolfgang is no doubt a very good young man,
and he certainly is very handsome, but he is too learned for
me, and too sedate-ezfin / he is not to my taste. But that
does not matter. I shall be heartily glad if he gets a good
wife, and Camilla-  "
Aurelia shrugged her round white shoulders, on which the
mantilla could by no means be made to stay, and made a
little grimace.
" Is not good? was that it?  She would not be a good
wife?" said Margaret, full of anxiety.
12




266            The House of Hohenstein.
"As you take it," replied Aurelia, drawing up her mantilla; " we often quarrel. Well, that may happen. It would
be tedious if people were always of the same opinion, but
when I say:'Camilla, we'll be good friends again,' she is
silent, or says perhaps,'yes,' but in her heart she does not
forgive me. And then she is so sly that nobody ever knows
what she is after; I do not think even mamma knows."
" Oh, my God, my God! " sighed Margaret, from the
depth of her careworn heart.
"What is the matter, dear aunt? " asked Aurelia.
"And she is to be my Wolfgang's wife!" said Margaret,
bitterly.
" Ah yes! " said Aurelia. " Well, that is not so very bad in
itself. One can get along with her pretty well; but then
you must know her as well as I do. And that was my reason for telling you all I have said. I thought you ought to
know. And you can tell your Wolfgang little by little, you
know, and then he can manage her. And as for money,
why, granduncle will take care of that. Camilla and Wolfgang are his favorites, you know; we only run alongside.
It is outrageous,'pon honor! as Cousin Cuno said last night;
but it can't be helped, and we must not get angry, for anger
makes people look yellow and ugly, as I replied. There
comes the whole military company! What a family feast it
will be! Don't be troubled, dear aunty, I'll stand by you."
The alderman and the president's wife had seen the newcomers from another part of the garden, and now advanced
to meet them in a walk lined on both sides with hedge-rows.
The brothers shook hands; the sisters embraced and kissed;
the lieutenant and the ensign bowed-heels meeting, and
the right hand on their caps-over and over again. Thus
they approached the garden-house, and hardly had Margaret
appeared in the door, when the colonel's wife hastened-just
as her sister-in-law had done a little while ago-in advance
of the others, to embrace her dear dear sister with overflowing tenderness. "I took the liberty to call yesterday, dear
Margaret, but you could not leave your sick Wolfgang.
Last night your husband told me that your son was quite
well again, and so we could not deny ourselves the pleasure
of bringing'you in person our hearty congratulations on this
happy occasion, in which we all take so deep an interest."




The House of Hohenstein.          267
And Selma repeated her embrace with an effusion which
compelled Aurelia to hold her handkerchief to her mouth, so
as not to let her unseasonable cough be heard.
The colonel and his sons had in the meantime come up
also. The colonel had smoothed his frowning face as well
as he could, and went so far in his courtesy as to kiss Margaret's hand, an example which was promptly imitated by
Lieutenant Cuno and Ensign Odo.
" I come, madam," said the colonel, " to see if I can give
my volunteer any longer leave of absence, and my boys here
wish to welcome their new comrade. But where is your
son? I shall have to send my tirailleurs out! "
The colonel uttered a low, hoarse laugh, which did not
sound pleasant, but resembled the laugh of the wolf in the
fable, when he saw Red-Riding-Hood walking across the
forest-meadow to her grandmother's cottage.
"Suppose we open ranks and search the garden?" said
Lieutenant Cuno.
" Or recall the outposts!" squeaked Ensign Odo.
" I am afraid the young gentlemen will not be called upon
to show their knowledge of tactics, for there are our friends
coming, arm in arm," said the alderman.
"Where, where?" cried the colonel's wife, looking
through her glasses in all directions. " To be sure, there are
the darlings; I must go to meet them."
"Does she think she is the principal person here?"
whispered the president's wife to the alderman.
" Never mind her," was the whispered reply; " she only
works for us."
Selma brought back Wolfgang and Camilla in triumph.
The latter accepted the congratulations of the family with
downcast eyes, Wolfgang with the open candor which he
felt to-day more than ever to be his special duty. He had
no suspicion that the colonel, who patted him on the shoulder and congratulated him, with a sombre smile, on the
" sword " which he would in a few days wear by his side,
would have run that "sword " with pleasure right through
him, if the thing had been as easy as it was desirable. He
did not know that his cousin Cuno had said only last night
to Baron Willamowski: " We will trim the young rooster's
comb as soon as we have him in the barracks "-a bon mot




268            The House of Hohenstein.
which the baron had acknowledged with a hearty curse. He
would have considered it high treason against mankind to look
upon all these smiling assurances of love and hearty sympathy as covers under which these people-his mother and
perhaps Aurelia alone excepted-concealed their desire to
make him a tool for their own purposes or their downright
hatred of him. He thought his relatives as sincere in their
desire for a reconciliation as he himself was, and that they had
sacrificed their pride and their vanity as readily for the sake
of a good deed, as he had sacrificed his for his father's wellbeing. He did not dream for a moment that his granduncle would make him his sole heir; he was happy enough to
think that he was willing to make no difference between all
the sons of his brothers. This consciousness gave him, during this unexpected meeting of the whole family, an air of
cordiality which was the very opposite to the cold reserve
which he had thought it his duty to assume towards his
relatives when he met them at Rheinfeld. The interpretation
was equally unkind in both cases. Then they had called
him a plebeian and a hypocrite; now they looked upon him
as an impudent parvenu. They never doubted but that
Wolfgang was a disagreeable man, but clever and dangerous,
and on that account doubly to be hated.
The president's wife, however, did not share these sentiments. The advantage in Wolfgang's marriage with Camilla
was too clearly on her side; and besides, there was after all
in her indolent, spoilt heart, some little remnant of goodnature left, which occasionally served her well in cases
where sentimental emotion seemed to be called for. This
was one of them; and it made her, therefore, downright angry
when Selma asked to have the privilege of entertaining the
whole company-" quite entre nous, my dear, you know "this evening, in honor of the "betrothal." " I think, dear
Selma," she said, rising to the full height of her stately
figure, "I have a better right, as the mother of the young
lady. Moreover, Philip commissioned m'e expressly, before
going to attend an unavoidable meeting of the board, to
invite you all to our house this evening.  I think, dear
Selma, a little reflection will convince you how just and how
natural my husband's wish was."
Selma was on the point of making a reply, which would




Th/e House of Hohenstein.        269
hardly have contributed to increase the harmony of the company; but a dark look from her husband bade her be silent.
"We shall be there punctually, dear sister," he said, kissing
his sister's hand. " You must excuse Selma if she takes a
special interest in the future officer of her regiment, for we
all look upon her as the mother of the corps."
" Will you be strong enough, mamma?" asked Wolfgang.
"I hope so," whispered Margaret.
" And I think we had better go," added Aurelia, who had
never left her place by Margaret's side. "Aunty's hands
are quite cold, and I see in her eyes that she wants to be
quiet."
The company left the garden. When the last had disappeared among the bushes, the head of old Moss reappeared
on the wall, directly above the garden-house in which they
had been sitting. He shook his fist and murmured something between his teeth. If the little finch sitting at a short
distance from him on the edge of the wall and looking with
his bright eyes at the strange old man, could have understood the speech of men, he would have heard the mysterious words: " Hohensteins are Hohensteins!"
— o —
CHAPTER X.
T    HE president's wife looked upon her daughter's betrothal as a very good pretext for giving the reins to
her insatiate fondness for pleasure. With a restlessness which one would not have expected in a lady who was
generally very phlegmatic, she arranged little parties with
dancing for the young people; and when she discovered that
her rooms, magnificent as they appeared to others, were too
small for the number invited, she proposed excursions in the
neighborhood. This occurred nearly every other day, and
she assured her friends that. she could nowhere find the
peaceful quiet after which she longed in vain in town, except
in the beautiful valleys of the neighboring mountains.
"I confess, dear Kettenberg," she said to the young




270            The House of Hohenstein.
painter, "when I see my Camilla so rosy and so happy, I
feel as if I myself were once more young."
" Does not that sound as if you had wrinkles in your face,
like an old woman by Murillo or Rembrandt?" replied
Kettenberg.
" Oh, not that exactly!" said Clotilda; "it is not so much
the body that is growing old, as the heart, dear Kettenberg
-the heart!"
"Now it is the heart!" laughed the painter. "Hearts,
Mrs. President, like yours remain young forever."
"Oh, you artists! " sighed the flattered lady; "innocent
children, who believe in perennial youth! But tell me,
Kettenberg, what are we to do to-night? We must have
something quite out of the common way! "
"What do you say," replied Kettenberg meditatively,
"if everybody for once stayed quietly at home? That is
certainly very uncommon, and would be quite piquant."
" For heaven's sake! To stay at home alone, with this
exuberant fondness of life, this irrepressible desire for intercourse! You do not know what you say, Kettenberg.
What do you advise, Camilla?"
" Perhaps tableaux once more," suggested Camilla. "Wolfgang is an enthusiastic admirer of Goethe; he would be
delighted to see me as Mignon in a white dress, with wings."
" As an angel by half," said Kettenberg, "while he ordinarily sees you as an angel altogether; that would be retrograding. But the idea of tableaux is a good one; I have
some new ideas."
Kettenberg came, as usual, to the assistance of the somewhat indolent fancy of the ladies; the tableaux were art
ranged in all haste, and they succeeded so well that, as the
painter maintained with much self-appreciation, the old days
of Weimar and Goethe himself had come again-the past
grand-master of all maitres de plaieir might have learned
something from them to-night.
Thus it went on for a week, every day and all.days. Wolfgang had not seen so much festivity during his whole life as
he saw this week; he had never heard so much laughing
and merry-making, nor been so merry himself. But if Camilla left the company for a moment, the charm was broken;
or if he was by chance alone after so many happy hours




The House of fohensfein.          271
trifled away by her side, the dark cares arose once more
from the depths of his soul and cast deep shadows upon the
gay pictures of his bright, happy life. The transition from
his former mode of life to this new sphere was too sudden
and abrupt not to be felt by him most painfully. He found
in the new society to which he had been transferred, elegant
forms and a chosen language; but the forms were hollow
and empty, and the language seemed to serve no other purpose than to express absolute nothings or crooked and
squinting thoughts. This playing with words, this talking
for the sake of talk only, these conversations which flew
restlessly from one subject to another, exhausting none-all
this began gradually to weary him, to oppress him, and to
put him out of humor.
And now he was to take the first official step in the career
into which he saw himself so suddenly forced.  The next
morning he was to present himself to Major Degenfeld,
whose battalion the colonel had ordered his nephew to enter.
Wolfgang felt very uncomfortable when he thought of this
visit. He was, to be sure, still determined to make this sacrifice for his father's sake, and the latter had taken every
opportunity during the last days to impress upon his son
the absolute necessity for it.  As he said himself, "he
had let Wolfgang see his cards," and shown him how "bad
a hand he held," because he could not possibly sustain his
credit without help, and such help was to be obtained only
from the rich uncle at Rheinfeld, after his complete reconciliation with the whole family. " You cannot imagine, Wolfgang," he would say, " how I have been hampered in all my
enterprises by the bans under which I have been put by my
family in consequence of my marriage with your mother.
The world is so constituted that it looks with the greatest
mistrust upon a man who has been given up by his own
family, especially when the family is rich and powerful. He
may do what he chooses-he is, and remains an outcast, a
pariah. A business man who has only a small capital to
go upon, as in my case, has to borrow money continually.
That is easy enough when a man has credit; but not so
when he has no credit, and I had none. I have all my life
been in the hands of the usurers; for the more solid business
men said: " He must be doing badly, or his rich relatives




272            The House of Hohenstein.
would invest some of their money in his business."  And
although they knew very well that in my case there were
other reasons for it, they pretended to know nothing, in order
to refuse me assistance on that pretext. All this will be
changed as soon as you are engaged to marry the president's
daughter, an officer in the colonel's regiment, and heir presumptive, or, if you insist upon it, one of the heirs to the old
gentleman at Rheinfeld. And then, my dear boy, pray think
not of yourself-though I know you think of yourself least
of all in this matter-nor of your father, but of your mother.
She is now weeping secret tears at the idea of your becoming
an officer, and with her experience in life that is not to be
wondered at; but, Wolfgang, how much more bitterly would
she weep if I were compelled to stop payment, to give up
this house, and with it the garden which is her greatest pleasure, and perhaps absolutely necessary for her life! No,
Wolfgang, I honor your scruples, although from my standpoint I cannot share them. I should have wished to spare
you the sacrifice, but you can see yourself there is no choice
left! Therefore make up your mind bravely, my boy! Go
to-morrow to Major Degenfeld. He is a very pleasant man,
and will receive the son of his old comrade with open arms.
Besides, he is reputed to be a man of liberal views, and you
will understand each other."
"That is some comfort!" replied Wolfgang, as he rose
from his easy-chair, which just now was anything but easy
for him, and walked to the window. The night was dark;
the outlines of the huge old trees beyond the convent-wall
were scarcely visible against the sky. A single star shone
amid dark clouds.  Wolfgang thought of the delightful
evening at Rheinfeld when he met Camilla in the avenue,
where the nightingales were singing, and confessed to her
his love. At that time, also, a single star had been in the
sky; but the star had shone and sparkled as if it could
never vanish again, and the whole heaven had been filled
with unspeakable glory. To-day all was darkness and solitude, and now the last star disappeared, on which Wolfgang's eyes had been fastened with a kind of superstitious
veneration. He felt it was a bad omen. The star had
reminded him of Camilla!
He made a supreme effort and mastered this melancholy




The House of Hohenstein.         273
fit. He rose and opened the window. "Father is right,"
he said to himself; "there is no choice. I must go my
way, little as I may like it; and I will do it like a man,
looking neither to the right nor to the left, but with firm
step and upright head. Those were not always the best and
most pleasing roads on which the heroes of old travelled in
search of the Golden Fleece and their sweet princesses, and
yet they were heroes-nay, often they became heroes by
pursuing their purpose over those painful and enchanted
ways. Well, I also have my sweet princess to woo and to
win, and they say I am to have the Golden Fleece into the
bargain. To-morrow I shall start on my journey, and the
first dragon to overcome will be this Major Degenfeld.
To-morrow, then, the battle-but just now we will go to bed,
and, if possible, dream of our sweet princess."
But Wolfgang dreamt very little that night of his beloved;
and on the contrary, a good deal of a grim old blade, grayhaired and gray bearded, with a dark frown on his brow,
and a huge swagger in his voice, who of course could be
nobody else but him called Degenfeld, major and commander
of the second battalion of the ninety-ninth regiment of infantry. Fortunately the man in the dream and the man
whom Wolfgang really saw next morning, were very different
persons. When the young man appeared next forenoon at
the appointed hour in the ante-room of his future commander,
a clerk received him and at once ushered him into the
major's room.
Major Degenfeld was a slender man of medium height,
some forty-odd years old, with a well-formed forehead, bald
at the sides, and large, mild-looking eyes, which gave him
far more the appearance of a savant, familiar with the great
world, than of a soldier. He rose from his writing-table,
advanced courteously to meet his visitor, and invited' him to
take a seat on the sofa. The first impression was strengthened yet by the comfortable loose gown of wadded silk
which he wore, and especially by the fitting-up of his
room, which contained a large library, arranged on simple
shelves all around the wall. The table was covered with
green morocco; the sofa had evidently seen long and hard
service; books, pamphlets, and newspapers were strewn
all about; and the very atmosphere of the room, with the
I2*




274            The House of Hohenstein.
faint odor of so many books, had something peaceful and
soothing.
Major Degenfeld's manner and speech harmonized perfectly with his appearance. There was not a trace here of
stiff formality, no sharpness of tone, no rudeness or affected
carelessness of language; the major's carriage was perfectly
simple and natural, the movements of his delicate hands
very graceful, and he spoke easily and yet elegantly. At
the same time, he spoke with so much cordial sympathy of
Wolfgang's former studies and of his favorite authors, that
the young man did not know what to admire most, the vast
erudition of the soldier, or the gentle courtesy of the commander.
The major also seemed to be particularly pleased with
the modest and yet highly intelligent manner of the young
man. He looked with his gentle eyes at the brow and the
lips of his visitor, as if to examine them critically; and when
Wolfgang blushed slightly upon being thus inspected, he
said, smiling:
"Pardon me, my dear friend; it is a bad habit of mine,
very disagreeable to others, no doubt, to study most accurately the physiognomy of men with whom I expect to be
connected for any length of time. For I have found that,
after all, men look very much what they really are. You
may excuse my imitation of Lavater all the more readily, I
think, as I am convinced that if your heart corresponds
with your face-and that, I told you, is my theory-we shall
soon be very good friends."
" You are very kind, major."
" I am only candid from principle, I may say. And as a
candid man, I must not leave certain circumstances unmentioned, which are in fact open secrets, or at least well known
in the whole regiment, which would not remain unknown to
you if you had spent a week in our midst. I can, therefore,
speak openly with you about them. You must know, then,
that your uncle and myself are very far from being on a
friendly footing with each other. I have even reason to apprehend that he honors me with his very particular hatred,
as he takes pains to show me in various ways. I have, so
far as I know, never given him direct cause for it, and must
therefore assume that it is simply an antipathy of his. It is




The House of Hohenseinz.         275
true that he and I differ totally in our views about our profession, probably because our characters and the education
we have received are so very different. You may imagine,
now, how surprised I was to learn that the colonel had
ordered you to my battalion by preference, and I confess
that I have as yet not been able to imagine what could have
been his motive for doing it, especially as there are more
vacancies in the other battalions than in mine, and the
two commanders are men much more after his own heart,
and his special friends. Perhaps he only wished to prove
his impartiality in giving me, his special adversary, the privilege of forming his nephew; or perhaps he tries thus to
bring about a reconciliation between us, which he thinks I
could not well reject for the sake of the service. However
that may be, you, my young friend, shall not suffer by it. I
shall do what I can to help you on in the new path, which is
by no means without thorns. And now allow me to ask you
a question, Baron Hohenstein, which may appear very indiscreet, but which, for special reasons, is of great importance to
me. I am told it is not exactly your own free will which
brings you to us? "
Wolfgang felt the blood rushing to his face.
"I do not know, major," he replied, after a pause,
"whether I should have the courage to answer this question
before anybody else with perfect candor. I only know that
I have not the courage to tell you anything but the whole
truth. Your information is correct. So far from entering
the army of my own accord, I have been forced to make a
very great effort to overcome my repugnance, and I should
certainly never have taken a step so utterly at variance with
all my inclinations, my habits and principles, if certain circumstances, which I hope you will not require me to mention in detail, had not made it my duty."
The major nodded his head. " I thought," he said, "a
man who, like you, had so long been devoted to science with
such industry and such brilliant results, would surely not
forsake it except upon compulsion.  I know, moreover,
enough of your family history to guess after a manner how
the deus ex machina looks, whose imperative order has suddenly transformed you from a follower of Themis into a son
of Mars. I am all the better able to put thyself in your




276            The arouse of Hohenstein.
place, as your case is an exact repetition of my own fate. I
also had been a student for several years, and never thought
of giving up the books I loved so dearly, when fate in the
shape of-it does not matter in what shape-took the pen
from my hand and put the sword in its place."
The major looked thoughtfully down; then he turned
again to Wolfgang, and said, with his kindly smile:
" You will therefore have to go through the same trials
through which I have passed, and if I mistake not my experience will be yours. But you have one great advantage
over me. Your apprenticeship will be much shorter than
mine, though it may be a little harder. Great changes are
impending over our army.  The European armies cannot
remain what they have been; least of all our German
armies.  There is but one alternative for us. We must
become a Pretorian cohort, or the king's army becomes the
people's army. I am not inclined to think the change will
be brought about very suddenly, or all at once; our progress
with us must keep step with the progress made in other departments. We cannot, for instance, expect to have a national
army before we have a nation. But we shall have a national
army ere long. That is my innermost conviction-without it
I would have long since left the service. But if we wish
to have one quickly, we must necessarily have the purpose and the means used to attain it fully known and appreciated in the ranks. Therefore I welcome every intelligent
man who comes to us with special satisfaction, and I am as
glad to see you come, Baron Hohenstein, as if you were a
long-expected guest. You do not come of your own accord,
but we soldiers know best that while we cannot choose our
post, we can do our duty faithfully wherever we are placed,
and all the more faithfully the more dangerous the post is."
An orderly entered, reporting to the major that it was
time to get ready for parade.
Wolfgang was about to go.
"Stay a moment longer," said the major; "there is no
hurry. I am always summoned some time before the hour,
because I dislike exceedingly to be interrupted in my work
for immediate duty elsewhere. Have you discussed with
your uncle the different ways to obtain your commission as
lieutenant? And have you decided which you will choose?"




The House of LHohestein.         277
"Yes, sir. The colonel has advised me to ask you as
soon as possible for leave of absence to go to Berlin, and
there to prepare myself privately for the examination. He
thinks I can thus succeed most easily and most quickly."
" Is it true, Baron Hohenstein, what report says, that you
are engaged to your fair cousin Camilla?"
"Yes, major."
"And yet you consent to being exiled thus? " asked Major
Degenfeld, smiling. " Well, you must settle that for yourself,
and perhaps you will do best to undergo the unpleasant
preparation away from home. I think you could have pursued your studies just as well here as in Berlin. But, as I
said, you must settle that for yourself. Only one point I
must beg leave to suggest to you. Things are not looking
well just now in Berlin; and although I hope the convention
which is to prepare the constitution will do the best that
can be done, it is still not to be expected that the agitated
waves will settle down at once. On the contrary, I think
we shall have more stormy days yet. You will be so situated in Berlin that you can look at these storms from the safe
haven of your forced inactivity. Do not deprive yourself of
this advantage by involving yourself in the conflict of parties,
but avail yourself of it for the purpose of studying accurately
and conscientiously the parties themselves, their defects and
their merits, their aims and their resources. Nothing is
more absurd than the idea of most of our officers that a
soldier ought to be a soldier and nothing else. If I am not
much mistaken, we are rapidly approaching a period when
the general who is not also a statesman, will be of little use
in the world; and when statesmen who cannot strike a blow
in case of necessity, will be little respected. You need not,
therefore, look upon that time as lost which you will have to
devote to the study of the art of war, even if you should
hereafter change your occupation; these are times when it
is good for men to be many-sided."
The orderly re-appeared, announcing that in fifteen minutes the bugle would sound for parade.
"Very well!"
The man turned on his heel and marched out at the
door.
"I almost hate the man," said the major, smiling; " he is,




278            The House of Hohenstein.
as it were, an embodiment of inexorable duty, which robs
me of my time and kills my mind. You have no idea how
many happy hours that man has taken from me, and how
many fair thoughts he has stifled in their birth. But we
will not wait for his third appearance. Good morning, Baron
Hohenstein! To-morrow your'commission as ensign will be
made out; the day after to-morrow you will report yourself
on parade, and the next day you can leave for Berlin, if the
lady permits it. If you will call on me before you start, I
may be able to give you some hints as to your studies. The
mechanical part of the service a man like you learns of
course in a few hours; but for that very reason a man like
you must not be content with the mechanical part. O heavens! there is my Fate coming again! Good-by! Good-by!"
And Major Degenfeld almost pushed Wolfgang out of the
door, as if he wished for none of his acknowledgements.
CHAPTER       XI.
W    HEN Wolfgang left the major's house he felt like a
hypochondriac who has called on a celebrated physician with the certain conviction that he would be
condemned as incurable, and who has learned that he is by
no means as sick as he fancied, and that, on the contrary,
his affection need only be properly treated to restore and
strengthen his health. What the major had told him about
the unavoidable reform in the army and the close connection
between the different pursuits in life, had heen quite a revelation to Wolfgang. " The major is right," he said to himself; "nowadays a man must be many-sided if he wishes
to satisfy all the demands that the times may make upon
him. Strange, that this very natural idea should never have
occurred to me before! It might have saved me many a
sorrowful hour. But now I can keep it in mind. It will prevent my being disgusted with unmeaning characters like this
Willamowski, this Brinkman, and my empty cousins, who
have no suspicion in their stupidity of the higher and wider




The House of Hohenstein.         279
views of men like Degenfeld. Of course, the old gentleman at Rheinfeld must hear nothing of these heretic notions;
but he need never know what purposes I have in mind while
fulfilling his wishes, if he only sees me on Sr.nday in my
uniform, the many-colored coat in which he insists upon
beholding his Joseph."
The general had invited the two betrothed and the other
members of the family to dine with him on Sunday. Wolfgang was very glad to see the old chateau and the neglected
park again, memorable and dear as they had become to him
through so much that had happened to him there. Camilla
also had looked forward with pleasure to the trip; but most
of all, the president's wife, who was full of vague plans and
projects for the improvement of the place, and hoped that
they might mature in presence of the objects that were to be
improved. The alderman was positively impatient to pay
this visit, for no one had more urgent reasons to wish for another interview with the old gentleman. So far, all the cards
that had turned up had been favorable to him.  His
crime had not been discovered, and there was every probability that it would not be so. The administration of the
funds which he had robbed was now in his own hands, and
nobody thought of examining the treasury during the great
excitement which prevailed in the city on account of the
elections. He had not only been reconciled with his relatives, but his position as father of the heir-presumptive of
Rheinfeld and the betrothed of the president's beautiful
daughter, was one of greater importance than he had ever
anticipated. The general had sent no direct answer to his
letter in which he informed him "most respectfully" that
" his orders had been obeyed," that Wolfgang was engaged
to Camilla, and since yesterday on the roster of the ninetyninth regiment of infantry; but the prompt invitation to
Rheinfeld and a large check on the general's banker in town
seemed to prove that he was pleased to see his orders
obeyed "so promptly." The hot iron had to be struck at
once.  A thousand dollars were very acceptable, but ten
thousand were ten times better; and why should the dear old
gentleman, who was becoming so liberal in his old age, not
supply ten or twenty thousand, if the matter was only presented to him in the proper light.




280            The House of Hohenstein.
But on Sunday morning a letter came from Rheinfeld, the
contents of which were very discouraging for the sanguine
city councillor. The general wrote that he was sick, and
could not, and would not, see the company; that the gout
was the devil's gift, and the boy might in his name go to
Berlin without having presented the little "witch " to his
granduncle.
That card was unlucky. The fine opportunity was lost;
it was altogether improbable that the old gentleman would
change his mind; besides, the day had been fixed for Wolfgang's departure, and, strange enough, Wolfgang insisted
upon keeping the appointment punctually.
All wondered at this haste to leave the home of his ladylove in a man who had so recently become engaged; and
Wolfgang was not in a position to explain the riddle, at least
not without mentioning many things which he did not like
to confess to himself. The fact was, that the glorious talisman which he thought he had obtained in his conversation
with Major Degenfeld, had proved to be of very little power.
The presentation on parade, the report to the officers, the
unavoidable intercourse with his "comrades "-young men
who were without exception very inferior to him in education-all this had so depressed the mind of the youngest
ensign in the ninety-ninth regiment of infantry, that all the
heroes of antiquity and the great men of our day-who had
been great soldiers and statesmen at once-had disappeared
from his horizon, and he saw only men who made their profession a horrible drudgery. Major Degenfeld, it is true,
had smiled when Wolfgang had poured out his full heart
before him, saying, " Such moments of doubt and trouble
would come frequently until practice and reflection should
make here also a master of the apprentice," and Wolfgang
had anew formed good resolutions to go on like a man,
doing his duty unmindful of all others. But he felt, nevertheless, that it would be useful to him to be for some time
removed from these surroundings, which reminded him too
much of his difficulties, and he himself pressed his departure.
No one was more displeased at this " obstinacy " than his
future mother-in-law. She had become passionately fond of
Wolfgang in the short time of their acquaintance, discover



The House of Hohenstein.         281
ing every day some new excellency in him. It appeared
gradually that Wolfgang represented in form, action, features, and expression, the idealized type of the Hohenstein
race; that his talent for conversation was really astonishing,
and his touch on the piano masterly; that his height matched
Camilla's wonderfully; and that his slender, elegant figure
appeared to greatest advantage in uniform.'But Wolfgang's
greatest merit in the eyes of the president's wife was evidently this, that his engagement to Camilla furnished a pretext for countless parties and excursions, and on this
account she would not hear of such a sudden and groundless separation. Camilla of course agreed here, as everywhere, with her mother. She begged and cajoled; and when
begging and cajoling were of no avail, she pouted; and when
pouting had no effect, she broke out in sobs-not in tears,
for Camilla never wept; and when Wolfgang kindly pointed
out to her how unwise such conduct was, she became very
angry, and declared that if he paid so little respect to her
wishes, she also felt disposed to disregard his. She threatened even to join a delightful excursion into the mountains,
which Baron Willamowski had arranged for the afternoon,
without regard to Wolfgang's departure early on the following
morning.
" I have no right to prescribe in any way for you," replied
Wolfgang. "If it gives you more pleasure to join your
friends in a party to the country than to spend a few hours
more with me-why, do it! You must know best how much
you value my company."
"But, my dear," said his future mother-in-law from her
easy-chair, " I should think Camilla had a better right to say
so than you. How can Camilla's company be so dear to
you, if you leave it so suddenly and without sufficient
reason?-Hush, Joli! "
"I am sorry, dear aunt, if I have not succeeded in convincing you of the force of my reasons, but  "
" But then you might at least join us this afternoon!"
"Pardon me, dear Camilla, that is impossible. I have
much to do yet, and several calls to make. I wish also to
spend a few hours with my mother. You know we cannot
be back before half-past ten, and the train leaves to-morrow
morning at seven."




282           The House of Hohenstein.
"You are obstinate," said Camilla.
" I should return the compliment if I did not think you
would certainly stay at home this afternoon to please me."
" You might be mistaken!"
"I shall convince myself of the contrary at three o'clock
this afternoon."
"The boat by which we go, leaves at two."
" Then I suppose I must say good-by now, Camilla."
"Good-by."
"Children, children!" cried the mother, rising from her
comfortable position, and dropping Joli from her lap on the
carpet; "why will you always quarrel? I mean, why can
you not agree about such a trifle? You had better yield,
dear Wolfgang. A gentleman like you would surely not be
so ungallant to a lady! "
" If we were to regulate our intercourse by the laws of gallantry, I fear the ladies would fare very badly. Good-by,
madam! Good-by, Camilla! "
Wolfgang bowed and walked slowly to the door, confidently expecting that Camilla would not let him leave her
thus. But Camilla did not look up from her embroidery; and
the president's wife, who had not caught the meaning of his
parting words, said, "At two o'clock then; be sure not to
be too late! "  Wofgang paused, and a bitter smile played
around his lips; but he said nothing, and with a last bow he
left the room.
" You must be very good to him this afternoon," said the
mother, quite exhausted from the trying scene, and sinking
back in her easy-chair.
"But, mamma, do you really think he will come?" asked
Camilla.
"If he will come? mais cela va sans dire / "
"Nous verrons," replied Camilla, counting the beads in
her embroidery.
Wolfgang came-not at two o'clock, but at three. The
servant who received him was exceedingly surprised to see
Baron Hohenstein. He knew him well, for it was Jean.
"Was the baron not going to join the party? His mistress
and the two young ladies had left the house at half-past two,
accompanied by Baron Willamowski, Judge Wyse, and Mr.
Kettenberg, the painter. The president had not yet returned




The House of Hohzenstein.        283
from the election, but had promised to join the company by
the four-o'clock boat, if the election should be over by that
time. Would Baron Hohenstein wait for the president and
go with him?"
Wolfgang said "he would see-perhaps he might get
through with his business by that time," and went.
His first impulse had been to leave a couple of cards with
"_pour dire, adieu," but had been deterred by the thought
that the cunning fellow Jean would at once guess the meaning, and make great fun of Camilla and himself in the lower
regions of the house. No yielding! he was determined not
to yield, but his heart was saddened. Had it already come
to that? So little did Camilla understand him! so frivolous
had she become among the men by whom she was surrounded! For Wolfgang threw the blame, of course, principally on her frivolous friends, and especially her indolent,
pleasure-loving mother. Wolfgang did not know that the
mother was far more frequently led by her strong-willed
daughter than the latter by her, nor that it would have cost
but a single word from Camilla this morning to persuade
the mother to stay at home, and that the word had only not
been spoken because Camilla was desirous to see how far
she could go with Wolfgang, and to prevent Willamowski,
Wyse, and her other admirers, from making satirical allusions
to her subjection to any man's rule.
Wolfgang returned home slowly. He deliberated whether
he should write to Camilla, and if so, what he should say!
Or would it be better to do nothing, and let the facts speak
for themselves? He could not decide.
When he reached his room, he found all his things
packed, his mother and Ursula having been busily at work.
He went down into the garden, reluctant as he was to meet
his mother, from whom he had never yet kept anything
secret, with a charge against Camilla on his lips. For the
simple announcement that Camilla had, after all, joined the
excursion party, was accusation enough.
Unexpectedly, Margaret received the news as if she had
been prepared for such a result. Of course she did not
say so, but she betrayed it in all she said to console her
son. Perhaps, if she had looked into the deepest depths of
her soul, she might have been shocked to find there a sense




284            The House of Iaoh/znslein.
of triumph that Wolfgang had been deserted by her who he
thought loved him better than his mother. And this feeling
that, for to-day at least, she was once more uppermost in her
son's heart, from which a stranger had driven her-that he
had come back to her from a world which did not and could
not understand him, just as he had come to her as a boy
whenever any harm had befallen him-this feeling made her
so happy that she became once more proud of being his
mother, and poured out the full stream of her affection.
She could now chat again as in the good old days; she
could laugh again, for Margaret loved to laugh like a child
when she was alone. She told Wolfgang of her mysterious
interview with old Moss on the day of the betrothal, and
asked him if he knew what was meant by the mysterious
words, " Hohensteins are Hohensteins."  "What else can it
mean," replied Wolfgang, smiling, " than that the Hohensteins are not Schmitzes, or still more plainly, all the Hohensteins in the world are not fit to loosen the latchet of the
shoes of a certain lady of the house of Schmitz, with whom
I, the old hack-driver Moss, am desperately in love-as
much in love as ever the old magician has been in love with
the fair queen who at night wanders up and down amid her
roses and lilies, far more splendid in her beauty than all her
flowers."
Margaret laughed heartily; then she became all of a sudden very grave and silent. Wolfgang pressed her to tell
him what was the matter, but it was only after some time
that she suddenly and hurriedly asked him in a whisper:
" Have you been in River street to say good-by? "
" No," said Wolfgang, "but I mean to go there this evening, if I can find uncle at home. I should have gone there
before, and so also to Doctor Munzer's; but, to tell the truth,
mamma, I hardly think the Schmitz family and Munzer will
be particularly pleased with my engagement and my newlychosen profession. And you know people are very apt to
look upon it as a personal insult if we do not arrange our
life exactly as they think it ought to be done, without inquiring whether it was at all possible to accept their suggestions."
"That is very true," sighed Margaret.
"Still," continued Wolfgang, "as I said, I should have




The House of Hohensteil.         285
gone in spite of the painful nature of such a meeting with
Aunt Bella and Uncle Peter. I should have gone at least for
my pretty little cousin's sake. Tell me, mamma, why has
Ottilia not been here of late? She had promised, I think,
to make me well, and then to come every day. Has she
taken it amiss that I have gotten well without her assistance?
Or is it one of Aunt Bella's countless whims? Or simply
my punishment for being engaged to Camilla?  That is,
after all, the most probable cause!"
Margaret struggled, whether she should state the truth;
but offended family pride gained the upper hand, and with
the tears streaming from her eyes, she said:
" She has been forbidden to come, Wolfgang!"
"Who has forbidden it?"
" Your father!"
"And why?"
"I do not know-or rather, I know it but too well; because he is ashamed of our relatives; because the relations
of your future wife are not to know, or at least not to be
reminded of the fact that your mother is a poor printer's
daughter."
"And did father say so to Uncle Peter?"
"I had to tell Ottilia myself. She asked me."
Margaret had hardly said these words, when she repented
-not from fear of her husband, but from the nobler feeling
that it was not proper for a wife and a mother to sow discord
between father and son, for whatever reason it might be.
She was sure he had not meant to hurt anybody's feelings
by his prohibition; she understood perfectly how important
the good opinion of his own family must be to him at this
moment, when any intimacy with Peter's republican friends
might have compromised him grievously with his own party;
she even admitted that Peter's brusque manner might have
irritated him in many ways-in short, she tried in her heart
to find every possible reason for excusing, if not for justifying her husband. Wolfgang listened with a frown and a
dark look in his eyes. As last he said:
"Never mind, mamma, it is the old, ever new story; it is
the curse that rests upon all men when they cease to be
brethren; perhaps because they cannot be brethren! You,
dear mother, have suffered enough by this curse, and I am




286            The house of Hohenstein.
too entirely your son to claim an exemption for myself. We
all have to suffer for the sins of others as well as for our own.
What can we do but try to rid ourselves of our own sins,
live in pursuit of our ideal, unmindful of others; make all the
sacrifices we can make, without becoming faithless to our ownselves; and then, when we have reached the point when we
are in duty bound to say: So far, and no further! to stand
firm by our convictions, come what may. I have reached
that point. Father ought not to go so far. He cannot and
must not ask you to tear from your heart and send from your
threshold, like unknown strangers, the good people with
whom you are bound up by a thousand ties, by the most sacred
bonds of common blood, and simply for the sake of his
worldly plans. He cannot ask me to leave here without
having shaken hands with those from whom I have never
received anything but love and kindness during all my life.
I shall speak to father about it as soon as he comes home,
and he will see that we only ask for what is right and fair.
At all events I shall call upon uncle to-night."
Margaret was going to reply, probably to counsel caution
and moderation, when the alderman came hastily walking
down the garden towards her. Margaret turned pale and
cast an imploring look at her son, to which the latter replied
with a gentle pressure of the hand and the low words: "Be
calm, darling mother!"
The alderman was very much excited; he kissed his wife's
forehead and offered his hand to his son. Then, after the
first words of greeting, he began discussing the great event
of the day, the election. His news was reliable, for he had
just come from the polls. There had been much excitement;
the parties had met passionately, and only after a long time
the result had been ascertained.
" And what a result!" cried the alderman. "You will
not know, Wolfgang, whether to be glad or to be sorry. In
spite of our most strenuous efforts, we have not succeeded in
electing the president."
" And Munzer?" asked Wolfgang.
"Munzer is elected," replied the alderman in a voice
which he tried to make indifferent, but which betrayed his
inner excitement. "Well, that was to be expected; he enioys the confidence of the common people to a very high




The House of Hohenstein.         287
degree, in spite of all we have done to uproot it. We had
to make this concession, in order to secure at least one of
our candidates, of whom we are not quite sure ourselves.
They showed very clearly how strong their mistrust of Protestants and government officials is in their hearts. When it
was evident that the president could not be elected, they
substituted my name in all haste. That might perhaps
have been very well, if it had been done in the beginning.
I was quite astonished at the large number of votes I received, as it was. But it will be a hard blow for brother.
A. propos, Wolfgang, why did you not join them this afternoon? Brother told me you had all gone to the mountains
some time before dinner."
"The others went; I stayed at home to spend a few
hours here with mamma, and then to make a few visits,
especially at Uncle Peter's house."
Wolfgang had said this in his calmest voice; his mother
bent over a flower-bed, and busied herself with some carnations.
" Oh, that reminds me," said the alderman; " I meant to
remind you of it some time ago, but forgot it in all this
trouble we have had of late. Certainly, your uncle would take
it amiss if you were to leave thus, quite sans facon. I have of
course, these last days, been driven further apart from him
than ever before, and that was my reason for begging your
mother to reduce her intercourse with River street to what
was indispensably necessary; but that does not mean that
matters must be carried to an extreme, or that we must forget the ordinary duties of common civility."
Margaret raised her head from her flowers, and her dark
brown eyes were moist, and her gentle voice sounded gentler
and sweeter than ever, as she drew up close to her husband's
arm, saying: "Come in, dear Arthur! you must be perfectly exhausted! Dinner will be ready, I dare say. And
then you must take a glass of wine-of your best hockthat will do you good! "
"And in addition to that, a sweet smile from my beautiful
little wife, who, God be thanked, is very much younger yet
than my hock! Come, we will be happy and enjoy ourselves! " said the alderman, kissing his wife's hand.
They went into the house. Wolfgang and his mother




288            The House of Hohenstein.
shared with the alderman his early dinner, at which he had
much to tell about the elections. It was almost dark when
Wolfgang started to pay his visits. He had arranged with
his mother that she should not expect him home, but retire
early, so that she could see him in the morning. The alderman was going to stay at home, and to write up his correspondence, which had been somewhat neglected during the
last days. Wolfgang left the house with a lighter heart than
he had brought home a few hours before. He had never
seen his father and mother so happy in each other. This
pleasure made him dread the pain of parting less, though he
had looked forward with much apprehension to the moment
when he should have to leave his mother. Even his quarrel
with Camilla appeared to him less serious. "Camilla will
be sorry for her mistake as soon as she comes to see it
clearly, and that will be before to-morrow morning. If she
once sees that she was wrong, the rest will follow as a matter of course. And as that cannot be forced, we must be
patient."
Wolfgang was in the most conciliatory frame of mind when
he reached Uncle Peter's house in River street after a long
journey through the dusty, noisy streets of the city.
CHAPTER XII.
THE unfortunate event of that evening on which Munzer saved his child from certain death, seemed to
have had no more serious consequences than a raging
fever which had attacked the boy the same night. It yielded
at last to medical treatment, but in its stead appeared a troublesome cough, which left the poor boy no rest by day or by
night, and which of course exhausted his mother also, who
slept with him in the same room. But her child's illness was
probably not the only reason why Clara sat up so often at
night in her bed for hours and hours when everybody else
was fast asleep, gazing fixedly at the little light of the
night-lamp, or burying her head in the pillows to stifle her
sobs.  The spark of jealousy which Mr. Rupertus had




The House of Hohenstein.          289
unknowingly thrown into Clara's heart on that unlucky evening, had in the shortest possible time blazed up into a flame,
which was consuming the poor woman's heart and brain.
Clara had in her modesty never doubted for years that her
husband did not love her as he might have loved another
woman, that he had a right to expect more from a wife than
she was able to give him with the best will in the world, and
that she, therefore, could not make him happy. It was in
vain that Munzer had often assured her of the contrary,
trying to explain his ill-humor and his discontent on the
ground of serious trouble in his business, disgust with political events, and exhaustion in consequence of excessive
labor. Munzer told the truth when he said this. Clara
knew it; but she also knew that a man, and especially a
man of Munzer's energy, is apt to bear even a harder lot
easily, if he can rest his weary head on the bosom of his
wife after the battle is over, whether he return victorious or
defeated. She knew, too, that no man could find this rest
unless he felt for his wife that true love which cannot exist
without profound respect-and alas! this respect he could
not feel for her who was in nowise his equal!  This she
thought, in her modesty, she saw very clearly, and probably others saw it too! She would have given much to make
up for her defective education, but poor Clara had little
time for study!  How often she had envied rich Mrs.
Rupertus, whose whole household cares consisted in a few
orders issued in the morning to her numerous servants, and
who could then devote the whole day to her harmless pursuits, her flowers, her embroidery, her music! Clara had no
one to order about but an old servant who performed the
coarser domestic work, for Munzer's limited circumstances
did not permit him to keep more than one servant. Thus
poor Clara had an abundance of work to do in her rooms,
her chambers, and her kitchen; and although she managed
her needle with a skill and a rapidity which amazed even
skillful Aunt Bella, she had ample opportunity for stretching
her capacity to the utmost. Then the children would come
home from school and claim their share in their mother's
love and of her time; they had to tell their little events, to
present their little petitions, and then to prepare their lessons under Clara's supervision. Munzer thought more than
I3




290           The House of Hohenstein.
once, as he saw his wife manage the house with such quiet
regularity, of the storyof silent Psyche; but that this silent
Psyche might be wakened up from her' sleep by a kiss of
love-that he did not believe, simply because he had not
succeeded in making her eloquent by his first kiss.
Thus Clara had never learnt to trust herself, and Munzer
had never learnt to trust her; and thus it had come about
that Clara was right in thinking that Munzer did not love
her as he might love a woman who was perfectly congenial
to him, and that Munzer was not happy with her. In evil
hours she would even fancy he was downright unhappy by
her side.
But until quite recently she had never conceived it possible that her husband could love another woman. How
could she? She knew but too well that her husband's whole
life was one continuous toil; that he went from his writingtable at home to his writing-table at the office, from the
office to the Republican Club or some public meeting; and
that, when evening drew near, he returned home, weary from
writing or talking, and in spite of his weariness often most
painfully excited. She knew that in spite of his fiery disposition and his thirst for communication, he rather fled than
sought society, and that in their narrow circle of friends and
acquaintances there was no woman who could have interested him in the least.
Thus matters had stood till quite lately, till that fatal
evening at Mr. Rupertus's villa. " How does your husband
like the baroness? He is a connoisseur!" These words
had been a fearful revelation to Clara. She did not know
Antonia Hohenstein personally, but by sight, and unfortunately also through the reports, which had to say more than
was pleasant of the beautiful woman's excessive freedom of
manner. At the moment when Mr. Rupertus had mentioned her husband and that woman in the same breath, a
thunderbolt had fallen upon her. She felt that Antonia Hohenstein was the kind of beauty that might set her Bernhard's passion on fire. And then Munzer had returned
home very late on that evening, quiet and reserved, contrary
to his usual habit, and his eye and his forehead had darkened
into deep gloom ever since. And while she had been sitting thus, vexing herself in suicidal grief, silent and sad




The House of Hohenstein.         291
among her laughing companions, her child's cry for help had
suddenly struck her ear; and when she reached the spot a few
minutes later with Mr. Rupertus, she saw her child, apparently dead, in her husband's arms, who immediately afterwards sank down fainting. The excitement of the scene
and the care for Charles had prevented her from thinking how
her husband happened to be there; and when she thought
of it next morning there was no need for asking any questions, for she knew he could only have come out of Antonia
Hohenstein's garden.  Antonia Hohenstein's garden, of
which Mr. Rupertus had just said, laughing aloud, that it
was particularly favorable for the fair lady's gallant adventures-the silent, shady garden, where the nightingales had
been singing so gloriously in the thick bosquets, while the
bright moonlight cast its charms over tree and bush! Clara
groaned as she slowly thrust the sharp dagger of jealousy
deeper and deeper into her heart; but then she roused herself. No, no!-no cry, no tear for a man who can throw
himself away on a notoriously immoral woman! But she
would also not stay another hour in his house, although the
very next night had to be spent in the fields, with a hedgerow
as the only shelter for herself and her children! For herself? Yes! But for the children?  For her sweet little
Ella; for her poor Charlie, who lay shaken with chills in
his bed, and begged his dear mamma every moment to give
him some water, ah! only a drop of cool water!
Clara must stay where she was, doing her duty faithfully
as before, without thinking of herself, or at least without
allowing herself to be lured away from her path of duty for
a moment, by all the thoughts of her wrong. The evil hour
when she should have to part from him whom she had loved
better than her own life, whom she still loved above all things
-that hour would come she knew, but it had not yet come.
Although the next days brought more and more evidence
that she would have to leave him soon perhaps, she still felt
that for the present she had nothing to do but to be more
attentive than ever, and to try, by great gentleness and
patience, to drive away the demons whose black wings were
overshadowing her husband's brow, and darkening the
bright eye of his mind. She saw what efforts he made to do
his accustomed work, but also how hard he found it, how




292            The House of Hohenstein.
weak his once indefatigable strength had become. Munzer
had not yet reached the goal at which he had been aiming
for so long a time; he must reach it for his own sake, and
for that of his party. He must not succumb in the fierce
struggle of the election; and the nearer the moment of the
conflict came, the greater were the efforts made by the adversaries, and the more difficult it became to keep the partially
broken party together. A terrible burden weighed on Munzer's soul; his pale forehead, his hollow eyes, his sunken
cheeks, even the lower and hoarser tone of his voice, testified to its weight. Could she, who had lived only for him
since the day on which she first saw him, leave him now?
Could she make the burden still heavier? For she felt in
her heart that he would not part from her without a struggle and without suffering; an inner voice told her: "He
loves you yet in spite of all; he loves you at least enough to
suffer for you, when you show him the wounds by which you
are bleeding to death."
How she should live after that, Clara did not know. She
hardly thought of the future. She only knew she could not
continue to live as she now did.
During the first days, the poor woman had sought comfort
in the thought that she might be mistaken, that the whole
was nothing but a bad dream, an idle creation of her fancy.
But she was to be robbed even of this comfort.
On the third day, just as Bernhard had left the house to
go to the office, a letter came, evidently written in a disguised
handwriting. The letter was signed, "a man of honor."
The man of honor considered it his duty to inform Vts.
Munzer of the relations which had now existed for some
time between her husband and the Baroness Antonia Hohenstein, especially as the whole town was full of the story.
At the same time, the man of honor seemed to have been
bent upon hurting the poor lady's feelings as deeply as he
could, for he mentioned a whole series of gallant adventures
drawn from Antonia's former experience, and assured her
finally, " that he had for the present mentioned only what
could be mentioned, but that shortly he would treat her to a
few details of special interest."
The president, in his wrath at Antonia's positive refusal
to lend him her aid in a political intrigue against Munzer,




The House of Hohenstein.         293
had dictated this letter to his servant Jean; but if he had
hoped to provoke an open rupture between Munzer and his
wife, and thus to destroy the former morally in the eyes of
the public, he had miscalculated the effect.
Clara had burned the letter with trembling hand, even
before she had read it to the end. Her house seemed to be
defiled as long as such a document was within its walls; the
breath of the slanderers which infected the pure air around
her, must be blown away with the ashes of the letter. Yes,
the slanderer! Bernhard Munzer could never sink so low
as to be criticized by a man like the writer of that letter!
Whoever might have written the anonymous slander, it
could not possibly have been a friend of Bernhard's; and the
wife who bore his name, the mother of his children, could
under no circumstances whatever enter into an alliance with
Munzer's enemies.
And Clara locked up the dread secret in her innermost
heart, and pressed her face deep into the pillows, that even by
the faint glimmer of the night-lamp the silent night might
not see her tears. Her greatest fear now was that Munzer's
enemies might attack him next directly with their poisoned
arrows, and yet all depended upon the intended victim suspecting nothing of the danger with which he was threatened.
But it seemed that the enemies lacked courage. At least
Clara could not perceive any change in her husband's manner which would have betrayed unusual excitement. On
the contrary, he was sombre and gloomy, as he had always
been of late, but at the same time milder and more sympathizing than ever. Not a bitter word passed his lips, such
as he formerly often uttered when he felt the embarrassments of his position more oppressively than usual. He
occupied himself at home a good deal with Ella. When he
came home, his. first word was an inquiry after the little
patient's condition; and when he left home in the morning
or after dinner to go to his office, his last word was to encourage Clara to keep up, to be cheerful, and above all not
to make herself sick.
The days came and the days went, and the term which
Clara had appointed herself for the decision of her fate drew
nearer. If Munzer was elected-and Clara did not doubt
that he would be elected-she would speak to him; what




294            The House of Hohenstein.
might happen next, Clara knew not. The time beyond that
day seemed to her as dark as the grave.
CHAPTER XIII.
A     ND as dark seemed life to Munzer now. The weird
brightness which his passion for Antonia had momentarily cast upon the world, had faded away
quickly. He had never doubted for a moment that this
passion was wrong. Nor had he thought that that scene in
Antonia's splendid supper-room could ever be repeated, and
that the dream of a mad night could continue far into the
reality of bright day. And yet all this had happened-contrary to his will, it is true, but nevertheless it was so. The
scene had been repeated, although without the naive freshness of that first, almost miraculous meeting. He had felt
Antonia's lips on his own lips once more, but that second
kiss had resembled the first only as sleep resembles death.
And many a time Munzer felt as if his soul had parted
from him, and he was wandering, a dead man, among the
living. There was but a single point amid all this confused,
ever changing, ever deceitful world of error, in which he
lived as in a dream, which he'saw clear and unchanging:
the conviction that he must do his duty under all circumstances. He had given up Antonia a second time-forever,
as he thought-and with Antonia every hope to see his
wishes for something better, something higher than what he
now had ever realized in this life. He threw himself, with
all the strength that he could still command, into the high
waves of the political current; but he had never yet worked
and labored so entirely without any personal ambition, without cheerfulness, nay even without hope of a favorable result
for the common welfare-and yet he had developed almost
marvellous energy and unbounded devotion to his cause.
He succeeded thus, at least, in escaping from himself. The
more he made public affairs his own private concern, the
more he lost all interest in what concerned him as an indi



The House of Hohenstein.          295
vidual. He had never made an attempt to approach Antonia again; he left her with silent resignation to her fate;
she might settle her account with fate as he settled his. And
the same frigid indifference he felt for his wife and his children. At first, the fact that he had struggled with death
itself for his child at the very moment when he had forgotten himself and all his duties in life in the admiration of
a beautiful woman, had made a deep impression upon his
mind; but his scepticism had soon found out that it was
all the effect of chance, which plays with our virtues and
our vices unconcerned for the consequences that may result.
And yet Clara was right when she thought her husband was
milder now and more sympathizing. But she was also right,
when this unusual gentleness troubled her more than his former
inequality of temper. She knew her husband too well not
to be aware that to passionate characters like his, constant
gentleness is almost impossible; and what would have appeared to a woman of less delicacy of feeling and dimmer
vision the morning dawn of a fairer future, was to her but
the last glimmer of the setting sun of her earthly happiness.
And now she was counting by the beating df her heart
the minutes that would yet elapse before the last ray of light
should vanish. The election day had come; it was past
noon, and Bernhard might come home any moment. She
had never in her life looked forward to his return with such
feelings; and while she was trying to school her heart and
to prepare herself for her last sad interview with her husband, her thoughts were continually escaping from the horror of the present moment and gliding back to those beautiful days of her first love, when her heart beat high aid
shouted for joy as she heard the step of her beloved
approach the threshold.
Munzer had no suspicion of what was going on in his
wife's heart, much less of the dread resolve that had slowly
ripened there. As he tried to bury all recollection of his
intimacy with Antonia in his own mind, he thought that
it was to others also a profound secret, for Antonia's allusions to the president's expectations from her influence over
him, had never appeared to him any thing more than frivilous fancies of her idle brain.  Munzer's weakness had




296            The House of Hohenstein.
ever been to underrate the strength of the adversaries he
despised. He had done so in this case also. Nevertheless,
the author of Clara's anonymous letter had told the truth
when he stated that Munzer's relations to Antonia were the
common talk of town. They were largely discussed in the
higher circles; and what was much worse for Munzer, and
might have been dangerous to him in his political aspirations even in the lower classes and the low drinking houses,
where suspicious-looking electors, between the enjoyment of
sour beer and bad tobacco, weighed the merits and the foibles
of the respective representatives with great zeal and with still
~greater turbulence. No one could tell how the report had
originated, that Munzer was a bad father and a faithless husband, who laughed at his openly-professed republican principles in the arms of rich and titled mistresses. This only
was certain, that a pale, thin young man, who had openly
denounced Doctor Munzer in a popular inn, had been thoroughly thrashed by a fanatic admirer of Munzer and of the
Red Republic -the locksmith, Christopher Unkel. The
young man had been kicked out of the house, to the great
delight of the assembled crowds, and from that evening
Munzer's popularity had risen from a very low ebb almost
to its former height.
Even to the rooms in Peter Schmitz's back building these
evil reports had found their way, and from thence they had
naturally penetrated gradually through the printers' room
into the office, and thus to the sitting-rooms in the front part
of the building. Peter Schmitz declared at once, most energetically, that " the whole was an infamous lie, coined by
Munzer's enemies, and that they must not come and tell him
such nonsense." But Aunt Bella was not at all of his opinion.
Long before the world began to busy itself with Doctor
Munzer's domestic affairs, she had seen and heard enough
that " she did not like," and had more than once told her
most intimate friends, "you will see that ends badly."  Of
course, Aunt Bella now chimed in with the world, and considered that the time had come when something ought to
be done. Her first intention had been to have a serious
conversation with Munzer himself. But she gave up this
idea as less expedient-not as the more dangerous, for the
bold old lady knew no danger-and proposed to enlighten




The House of Hohenstein.         297
Clara as to her situation with great precaution, but also with
perfect candor. But this plan also seemed to her objectionable on account of Clara's extreme sensitiveness, and at
last she resolved to entrust the mission to Doctor Holm, to
whom she confided all her secrets. Holm had at first declined the delicate mission very decidedly, not because he
doubted for a moment that the common report was true, at
least in its main features, but because he doubted the usefulness of such attempts to interfere, and thought it wiser, in
such matters, to let everybody attend to his own affairs.
It was the afternoon of the day of election. Holm was
alone in the office. Munzer was still at a meeting, and sent
from time to time bulletins home about the state of the poll.
Holm was in a melancholy humor, and every time when he
began to hum the champagne song from Don Giovanni,
"Give me, oh boy, the sparkling cup," he broke down after
the first bars. The editorial leader-orum, as he called it,
had given him'more trouble than usual; and the points with
which he generally abounded, would not come to-day. Holm
did not know what it was that " put him out so much." The
situation in general had undergone no change. That the
People's Journal would cease to appear by the first of
July, or pass into other hands, Holm had been told long ago,
though he had never yet found out to his satisfaction which
of the two evils was likely to be the greater. For Holm
knew the probable new owner and did not trust him, although
he had sworn at one of the first interviews about the sale of
the paper, that he would in no wise change its radical tendencies, and leave the editor perfectly free to continue it in
the spirit that had made it so famous.
Nor had Munzer's relations to his wife, which were a
source of great trouble to his kind heart, in any way changed
for the worse; and poor Cajus had actually improved very
much during the last days. He could not see anywhere a
good reason for being so very melancholy, and yet Holm
was so much out of humor that he gave up the completion
of his leader-orum as "a bad job," and took up instead the
accumulated letters, most of which had not yet been opened,
in order to fill up the blank space with some interesting facts
drawn from his correspondence.
Holm had read three voluminous letters with frowning
i3*




298            The House of Hoheznstein.
forehead and arched eye-brows, without having an idea of
what he had been reading, and was just about to fold up a
fourth letter after a slight glance at the contents, when he
suddenly awoke as from a dream, looked once more at the
signature and then at the direction, and finally folded it up
carefully, now only doing what in his absent-mindedness he
had'.neglected to do before. He read the address, which
was not, as on all the other letters: " Editor People's Journal," but " Doctor Bernhard Munzer —private." It was
evidently not a newspaper correspondent who had written
it.
Doctor Holm's forehead was grimly furrowed as he made this
strange discovery, and his eye-brows rose higher and higher
on his forehead, till they looked like two dark storm-clouds
on a red evening sky.
" True then!" he said to himself; "love, resignation, and
all the other stuff-just'as you read it in novels; and poor
people in real life break their hearts over it! Well, I only
wish the   "
And Doctor Holm struck the table with his hand so that
the foreman in the printing office looked in through the little
window and asked if the doctor had called?
"No!" cried Doctor Holm; and then he murmured:
"Who on earth can work with such things going on around
him? I cannot. A man must be without a heart to take
such things with indifference. But I'll have a talk with the
boy; I'll show him where he is; I'll-first write my leaderorum; I am now in the humor for it."
And Doctor Holm dipped his pen in the inkstand and
wrote in the most abominable hieroglyphics that ever drove
printer to despair, an article distinguished by its grand, lofty
style and by the noble indignation it breathed against " the
worst enemies of Liberty," who wanted to govern without
being able to govern themselves, and who did not consider
that, in a really free commonwealth, moral greatness was a
condition of political greatness. He inveighed against the
conspirators who were willing to overthrow tyrants, but not
to establish a republic against men like Alcibiades, who
had been justly ostracized in days of old because their brilliant talents had been dangerous gifts for their fellow-citizens.
Doctor Holm had just gone to the window to read over




The Housa of Hohenstein.          299
his article once more, when he heard Munzer's step on the
gallery outside.
A moment later Munzer entered the room.
He threw his slouched hat on the table and himself into a
chair. He looked as if he were utterly exhausted. He
poured a glass of water into a tumbler and drank it eagerly.
Then he turned to Holm, saying:
" Well Holm! the prelude is over; the actors are on the
stage; the comedy can begin. I hope I can say my part
without blundering! "
" I wish, Munzer, you had used a different figure of speech
to tell me of your election. I congratulate you, however,
heartily," said Holm, very seriously. " You know I do not
like to see life treated like a piece performed on the stage."
" And is it anything else," asked Munzer, with a gloomy
voice. " A man of humor as you are, ought to know."
" There is room for the humorous in life," replied Holm,
"and I am the last man to deny it; but that room is limited; and when in King Lear, Fate begins its bloody work,
the foot slips away and reappears no more."
"What a preacher of morality you are to-day! ".replied
Munzer. "1 hope your editorial is not cut after the same
pattern!"
" Perhaps it is," said Holm; "if you choose, I will read it
to you."
"If you think it desirable!" replied Munzer, leaning
back in his chair.
Munzer gave several signs of impatience while Holm was
reading; and hardly had the last word been uttered, when
he exclaimed, " And you call that a leading editorial, dear
Holm, at this time when the result of the election is the
only natural and interesting topic!  And what can this
apology for good men who are bad musicians do for us-for
us who can count the few available men whom we have on
our fingers, and who ought to be very glad to welcome any
man without examining first how far he is strictly moral or
not I"
" Formerly you used to think differently! "
" That may be! Perhaps I begin to feel the future statesman within me!    But seriously, Holm, I have of late
become more and more convinced that all great political




300            The House of Hohenstein.
questions depend far more upon might than upon sentiment.
I am determined to carry out our ideas, even to the extreme,
by all the means I may have at my disposal; not because I
underrate or ignore the dangers in our path, but because our
rose-water policy leads to nothing, and we shall, sooner or
later, be compelled to use force. We might, I think, use it
just as well now, before our strength is wasted by long and
useless negotiations."
"Then I fear you will not desire to see my article in the
paper, as it is directly opposed to that policy."
"Candidly: No, Holm!"
"Well then, it may stay away," said Holm, folding up the
sheets on which it had been written. " If I cannot convince
you at whom the article was principally aimed, it is of course
of no value in my eyes."
"Aimed at me particularly! " said Munzer, with an ironical smile. "Well, that is not so bad! I a conspirator! I an
Alcibiades? Pardon me, dear Holm, but I confess I do
not comprehend you."
"Perhaps you will comprehend me," said Holm, "if I
speak to you not as a politician, but as a friend. At the risk
of losing your friendship, I must tell you that it has caused me
great grief to see you wage such a war of annihilation against
yourself, to see how day after day your passions obtain a
stronger hold on your mind, until you are in a fair way to
ruin yourself and the happiness of your family forever.
You have changed sadly during the last weeks; you would
be shocked if you could see yourself for once with the eyes
of another person. Such changes without do not take place
without corresponding changes within. I cannot think that
the state of politics can be the cause of this, because I know,
from of old, that you are not an optimist in such matters.
It must be something else; and whatever it may be, concerns
you of course, first and foremost; but in spite of that, you
cannot prevent the secret from becoming known to both
your friends and your enemies, although under very different
aspects. Unfortunately, I have to tell you that this secret
has ceased to be one as far as the great public is concerned.
You will bear me witness that I am not a lover of gossip,
nor a spy, and yet I have heard, I have even seen more of
the relations in which you stand to a certain great lady than




The House of Hohenstein.         301
I like to know. Among the letters of to-day which I opened
under the impression that all of them were business letters,
there is one from the lady with whose name report has
coupled yours now for some time."
While Holm spoke these words, Munzer had become
very pale and quiet, so that Holm began to pity the patient
whom he had undertaken to heal. He hastened, therefore,
to add:
" Do not take the matter more tragically than it deserves,
dear Munzer. There are few things on earth so bad that
they cannot be set right again, if we have the firm will to do
so."
Munzer made a declining gesture with his hand.
" Where is the letter? " he said.
"Here, I have of course read only a few lines."
"All right, Holm."
Munzer put the letter into his pocket without looking at it,
rose and seized his hat.
" I suppose you can finish the paper without me?"' Certainly, but you ought not to leave so; you are too
excited."
"I am not excited, I am as calm as the grave."
You ought to stay all the more."
" I cannot stay; farewell!"
" Munzer, for God's sake! " cried Holm, starting up and
putting himself in his friend's way; "what do you mean to
do? I will not let you go till you promise not to do anything
violent."
" Do you think I am a child!" replied Munzer, smiling
bitterly; "here is my hand."
"Munzer," said Holm, deeply moved; "think of your
wife and children."
" I am thinking of them," replied Munzer. " Farewell."
He went. Holm sat down at the writing-table, and took
up his correspondence, almost groaning. "To the devil
with all phantoms," he cried, and dipped his pen with great
energy into the inkstand.
-----




302            The House of Hozenstein.
CHAPTER XIV.
B"  ERNHARD!';
Clara's trembling lips did not utter the word, and
yet it seemed to her as if the whole quiet room had
resounded with it. She was going to rise from her seat by
her workstand in the window; but she had not the strength
to do it. She pressed her hand upon her beating heart and
stared at the door. A moment later, her husband was
standing before her.
" Clara! "
The first impulse of his young wife was to throw herself
on her husband's bosom and to tell him all-no, to say nothing, only to feel once more, perhaps the last time in her
life, as his wife. But a nobler impulse, offended pride, kept
her from doing it. She bent her head over her work and
whispered:
" Is it you already?"
"Already? That sounds as if you had not expected me
yet, or not expected me at all."
Munzer said this without any bitterness.  He was still
standing before Clara, his arms crossed on his breast, as if
he wished to prevent himself from extending a hand to her
whose heart could no longer be his.
Clara looked up at him. One glance at his pale, careworn face, sufficed to destroy all the plans she had formed
so calmly and thoughtfully. She covered her face with her
hands and broke out irto a flood of tears.
Her weeping gave Munzer his strength back again. He
felt it was his duty to speak and to act.  He sat down
near the window opposite to Clara, and said, calmly and
sadly:
"Can you listen to me, Clara; will you?"
Clara made no reply, but a slight inclination of her head
and a suppressed sob said yes.
"I will tell you a story, Clara-a short story, and you
must think the two persons of whom it treats are not we,
but two persons of our acquaintance of whom we are fond,
and whose fate is placed in our hand. It is the story of a




2he House of IHohenslein.        303
man who was poor, unhappy, and made gloomy by his hard
lot and his passionate heart.' He married a girl who also
had never known the brighter side of life, and to whom life
was therefore as little attractive as to the man. They lived
together for years; they shared with each other all they had
to share-of joy little, of sorrow much.  The red rose of
love, which only blooms in the sunshine of happiness, could
not flourish in their garden. She could at no moment get
rid of the idea that her husband was unhappy with her
because she prevented him from fully developing all his powers; he, on his part, did nothing, or at least did not enough,
to relieve his wife of this burden which weighed so heavily
on her heart and on her mind. He tried at first to make
merry over her troubles, or to teach her how to bear it like a
philosopher; but he became impatient when he did not succeed at once, and forgot that his vehemence and his gloom
contradicted his kisses and his words. Thus, instead of
supporting each other, as'they had once vowed and no doubt
intended, to do, they only made life harder to each other.
Even their children were not able to counteract the curse
that rested upon them. They could not be happy in their
children as they ought to have been, because each one
became a new source of care and anxiety. He and the
children could not harmonize with each other; he had
seldom time to occupy himself with them; and if he now
and then took them on his knees, they glanced shyly up at
the gloomy man, and he felt more and more painfully what a
stranger he was in his own house.
"Nevertheless, the two loved each other; but as both
were proud, they never told each other so; and as they did
not seem to love each other, and did nothing to break the
evil charm, the appearance soon became reality, and half a
love was for both of them no love.
",Still, neither of them had yet thought that infidelity, in
the ordinary sense of the word, could ever step in between
them.
" Then it happened that the man became acquainted with
a woman, by a chance such as could not be more accidentala woman whose uncommon beauty inflamed his imagination
all the more, as his mind when he first saw her was in the
very depth of despair and disgust. In the intoxication of an




304            T/e House of Hohenstein.
overwrought, feverish enthusiasm, this woman appeared to
him as the ideal of his dreams, and he loved her as in a
dream we worship an apparition of more than earthly splendor. But he had not been schooled in vain in that bitter
philosophy which teaches self-denial on every page. He tore
himself away from that dream, not without a struggle, not
without pain, but yet so that he remained victorious in the
terrible struggle. Then he saw the woman once more to tell
her what she had already told herself. Since that time they
have not met again, those two whom blind Chance had
brought together, and whom wakeful Reason had parted
again. She wrote a letter to him, which he received a few
minutes ago, which he has not read, and which he will not
read, for a curtain has fallen, for him, over those scenes of
his life, and he will never raise it again.
" Then this man came to the mother of his children and
told her everything; and, Clara, if you were the intimate
friend of this mother, if you had to think and to decide for
her, what would you advise her to reply to her husband?"
Clara ceased weeping after her husband's first words; and
as she now, when he had ended, raised her face to him, there
lay on it calmness and clearness, which terrified Munzer.
And the same calmness and clearness was in her voice, as
she said:
" I thank you, Bernhard, that you have spoken first, and
that you have asked me to say what I should have said to
you, unasked, but with a much heavier heart. You mean it
well, Bernhard, I do not doubt that. I can hardly tell you
how fully I am convinced of it; but for that very reason I
cannot permit your kindness to be any longer the cause of
your unhappiness.  You love me, you say, and I believe
you. You love the children, you say, and I believe that also.
But this love is not that which you could give another woman, nor that which I require. As you say, half a love is no
love. I have felt this painfully, oh how painfully, ever since
I have been your wife. Hence I have wished a hundred
and a thousand times to tell you so, and to beseech you to
free yourself and me of this burden. I never had the courage to do it.  Now I have it. I hardly know why and
whence, but it may be because I am perfectly certain that
we cannot go on living as we now do. What would be the




The House of Hohenstein.         305
result? We would be still more careful not to let each other
see how unhappy we are; but that would not lessen our burden; on the contrary, it would only be all the heavier, because
of the secrecy. Then it occurred to me, Bernhard-but you
must listen calmly and patiently-that possibly I see more
clearly in this matter than you do. Let us part for a time,
not forever, for an inner voice tells me it cannot and shall
not be forever. The opportunity is most favorable. When
you sent me, an hour ago, the news of your election, I first
cried to my heart's content, and then I said,'It is best so.'
You will go to Berlin in a few days; I might remain here
with the children, but I cannot get well in these rooms; and
besides, who knows how long you may be kept there, and
how you may come back? I think it best, therefore, you
should send me and the children to my old uncle. No one
will wonder, for is it not perfectly natural that I should avail
myself of your absence to make the journey? Besides, Dr.
Brand says Charlie ought to have some change of air.
There we can stay as long as you choose. The children
shall be well taken care of. I will teach Ella myself; Charlie will study Latin and the other things with uncle, who,
you know, is a great scholar and fond of teaching. What
do you say, Bernhard?"
" That you are right, perfectly right."
Munzer rose and walked up and down in the little room.
It had grown dark in the meantime, and Clara was no longer
able to see the expression in his face.  But the tone in
which he had spoken was so peculiar, that she rose hastily,
and placing her hand on his arm, said:
"Bernhard, do you believe in my love?"
"Oh, certainly," replied Munzer, in the same subdued,
uncomfortable tone. " In that half love which is no love."
Clara took her hand from his arm. She knew she might
keep back her husband if she chose, but her resolution was
formed.
" Then you consent?"
" Certainly."
" And you permit me to leave to-morrow?"
" All the more readily as I think of leaving myself. I believe I can be more useful now in Berlin than here."
"Will you have your supper now?"




306            The House of Hohenstcin.
"Thank you, no! I must go out again."
" Then good-by, Bernhard. The children want me."
"Good-by!"
Munzer was near the door. He hesitated before opening
it. In Clara's bosom a wild cry: Bernhard! Bernhard!
was struggling for utterance. But not a sound escaped her
lips-and the'door closed after the dark, beloved form.
Clara stood for a moment in the dimly-lighted room, pressing her hands to her burning temples, and then she went
slowly to the chamber where her children were.
— o —
CHAPTER XV.
IT was already quite dark in the sitting-room of the house
in River street, so that one had to come up close to the
great bay-window, in which two ladies were sitting, to
recognize in them Aunt Bella and Ottilia; while the figure
of Uncle Peter, who was walking up and down in the further part of the deep room, was hardly visible against the dark
tapestry. The brother and sister had just had a long conversation on family matters, which had at last become so
painful to Peter that he tried to break it off with the words:
"Very well! Then we must begin once more from the
beginning; that is all! "
But Aunt Bella was not so easily silenced, especially in
the beautiful twilight, when one could talk so comfortably,
and she replied with great animation:
" Yes, that is all, but not for you! I know what that all
means for you: trouble and care and sleepless nights without end."
"Then leave at least your Jeremiads till we are alone,"
replied Peter, angrily; "why must the poor child hear all
this?"
"Ottilia is old enough to see life as it is," said Aunt
Bella; " are you not, Ottilia?"
"Perhaps so," replied Ottilia, "but pardon me, my dear
aunt, I really do not see how uncle could act otherwise."




The House of Zohenstein.         307
"Do you? " said Peter, eagerly. "You are a good girl!
But let us hear what you have to say: why do you think I
cannot act otherwise? "
" Because you cannot change the character of the paper
without being inconsistent with your principles, and that I
think is the worst thing a man can do."
" Girl! " said Uncle Peter, pausing before her, "you are
my flesh and blood!"
Uncle Peter had said these words with such unusual mildness and cordiality, that Ottilia left her place in the window,
and embraced him. Uncle Peter held her fast, and placing
his arm around her slender waist he continued his walk.
"Of course!" said Aunt Bella. "I have water in my
veins; I am not flesh and blood; I came from the moon," and
as she said so she looked at the golden disc of the moon,
which was just rising above the roofs of the adjoining
houses.
Ottilia made a motion towards the window, but Peter held
her back.
" I know you better, Bella," he said. "I know that there
is no better heart beating than yours; but of politics you
know simply nothing at all."
"And do not wish to understand anything," cried Aunt
Bella, very eagerly. "God preserve me! I never saw yet
any good coming from politics, but much that was bad. If
you cannot find the shadow of a reason for some extraordinary notion of yours, then it is politics; that must serve as a
pretext for committing such and such a folly. Because it is
against his republican conscience to let others help him,
that man Cajus is starving in his garret with his broken arm;
because he must needs play a part in politics, Doctor Munzer
wastes his money on wretches, and sees his neighbor in Tom,
Dick, and Harry, rather than in his wife and children. As a
political character, you must give up your paper, on which
your whole heart hangs, and prepare for yourself a future
that makes you shudder. And what right have you to
blame others who do not think as you do, and who might
just as well plead politics as an excuse for their sins. You
blame the aristocrats; the alderman blames the republicans.
Your principle is, Like tends to like; the alderman says the
same; why then should he not forbid us his house? why




308           The House of Hohenstein.
should not Wolfgang enter the army and marry Camilla?
What is right for one, is right for another."
To hear the alderman excused or even praised by Aunt
Bella, was such a very extraordinary event that Peter in his
first surprise did not know what to say. Ottilia could only
hear him breath hard and fast; she feared an outburst of
his violent temper, and said promptly in a low tone: " Don't
be angry with aunt, dear uncle; she means it well, you know."
But Ottilia had not said this so low that Aunt Bella's
acute ear had not heard it. "I can defend myself, child,"
she said bitterly. " I need no advocate."
"What!" said Uncle Peter, "you need no advocate?
Let me speak, child, I am not angry; I should have no end of
trouble if I were to be angry at such things. But I tell you
this, Bella: if you ever again speak favorably of a man who 
has sinned so grievously against me, who has cheated me
out of the happiness of my life, and finally crowned his work
by turning this child here-my child-out of his house, you
shall "
Peter Schmitz struck his forehead and murmured the old
warning in his beard, which had so often led him safely
through much trouble: " Be calm, Peter, be calm "
" Well, what shall I suffer? " asked Aunt Bella, with a voice
which was intended for irony, but which only betrayed the
approach of tears. " What is so bad that it would be good
enough for Aunt Bella? Let us hear it. Nothing, I promise
you, will be a surprise to me! "
"Good-by, Ottilia!" said Peter Schmitz, pressing the
hand of his niece so hard that she nearly cried with pain,
and hastening towards the door.
Before he reached there, however, it was opened from the
outside, and a tall man entered the dark room.
"Who is that?" cried Peter.
"I! Wolfgang! I heard you talking, and so I came in.
I am glad to find you here, uncle; I came to say good-by to
you."
"As I have said long since to you and your father," cried
Peter Schmitz, running out of the room, without taking
Wolfgang's proffered hand, and slamming the door so violently that the sound shook the whole house like a clap of
thunder.




7hze House of Hoheizstein.       309
Wolfgang was so amazed at this reception, which far exceeded in unkindness his worst apprehensions, that he did
not at first know what to do. Then he recollected that
Uncle Peter had indeed reason to consider himself insulted,
and that it was the son's duty to make amends for the father's wrong-doing. He walked up, therefore, to the baywindow, which was now completely flooded with the soft
light of the moon, and said:
" You will not condemn me unheard, Aunt Bella, and you
Cousin Ottilia?"
"You might be mistaken there," replied Aunt Bella, in
whose veins the Schmitz blood began to boil, excited as it
was already from the discussion with her brother. " And
what is there to hear? I should think the facts were clear
enough. Is that the reward for all the love we have bestowed upon you? When did you ever come here, as a boy,
that Aunt Bella had not an apple or a story for you, and
Uncle Peter a picture-book or a flag or a sheet full of golden
soldiers? When did you ever come here, as a grown man,
that we did not receive you with open arms, and my poor
brother, who never drinks wine himself, did not bring his
best bottle from the cellar? When did you ever hear anything
but kind words from him or from me, and you know we
always meant what we said? And what has been our reward?
I do'not mean to say a word of myself, for that is not worth
mentioning; but of my poor brother, one hair of whose
head is worth more than all of you together! You have
sinned against him grievously; you have embittered his
whole life; you have made him so savage that he turns now
against his own flesh and blood, and pours his wrath out
upon me because I take your part! But go on in this way
and see where it will lead to! Despise your relations in
River street and throw yourself into the arms of your noble
kinsfolk! Stalk about in your king's livery! Like Joseph
in his many-colored coat, you will reach the pit soon enough,
for pride goes before a fall! Marry your sweet baroness; I
do not care! But do not expect, Wolfgang, that your Aunt
Bella will stand up for you as she used to do. Do not ask
me to mention you in my prayers morning and night, as I
have done ever since I held you over the baptismal font. I do
not wish you any harm, but I cannot pray for you, Wolfgang!"




3IO            The House of fohetesein.
Aunt Bella had left-her seat in the window to come close
up to Wolfgang, for she liked to look her friends in the face.
As Wolfgang remained silent, and made no effort even to
defend himself, Aunt Bella suddenly felt utterly bewildered,
uncertain whether such obstinacy deserved still greater condemnation, or whether she had perhaps done the poor boy
grievous wrong, and ought to fall upon his neck, asking his
pardon. As she could not on the spur of the moment decide
which was the most expedient proceeding, she burst in the
meanwhile into tears, rushed into the adjoining room, closing
the door rather violently, turned the key and pushed the bolt
-as a sign that for the present she wished to have nothing
to do with this wicked, good-for-nothing world.
Wolfgang had not stirred during the storm which had so
unexpectedly broke upon him. His eyes had been steadily
fixed upon Ottiiia's slender form, which the moonlight inundated with soft radiance, as if he cared only for her judgment, whether she would condemn him like the others. He
actually expected her to cut his aunt short and to speak in
his defence. But Ottilia was silent, even now, and Wolfgang,
bitterly disappointed, turned round to retrace his steps and
to leave, without a complaint or a reproach, the house in
which he had been so inhospitably treated. Just then he
heard the rustling of a lady's dress behind him; a warm
hand touched his lightly, and a melodious voice said:
" Cousin, do not leave us thus! Do not leave us without
saying that you forgive uncle and aunt!"
Wolfgang looked at the sweet, tearful face, and at the sight
all the bitterness in his heart disappeared as if by magic.
"Thanks, Ottilia," he said, and his fingers grasped the
little hand which had instinctively plead for peace. " You
look to me to-day, as you did the other evening at my mother's, like an angel of peace and comfort. Farewell! "
" I will show you the way out," said Ottilia. "It is so
dark on the gallery, and you have not been here for many
years."
Wolfgang could have found his way out of the house very
well, even in the dark; but he made no attempt to send back
Ottilia. Thus they went, hand in hand, along the creaking
gallery and down the narrow, steep staircase.
In the meantime Ottilia said:




7he House of Hohcnstein.         31 
"Is it true, Wolfgang, that you are to be an officer?"
"Yes!"
"And that you are-engaged?"
"Yes!"
"And that you are going to leave here?"
"Yes-to-morrow morning-for six months. Ah! Now
you give me up like the others, don't you?"
"No, cousin; you look too good and kind for that. You
cannot be acting badly; I only feel sorry for your mother!
She will miss you sadly."
" Will you come and see her, Ottilia, if I promise you that
my father himself will beg you to come as often as you can?"
" That is not necessary. If I thought I could be of any
use to her-I am very fond of your mother."
" And she is very fond of you, and so am I, Ottilia-very
fond! "
Wolfgang was standing at the foot of the steps; Ottilia on
the last step. Through the wide-open front door a broad
beam of moonlight streamed into the house, but at the
place where they stood it was so dark that Wolfgang could
scarcely see the outline of Ottilia's figure. He bent over
towards her; the warm breath of her lips touched his
cheeks.
"Farewell, Ottilia!"
" Farewell, dear Wolfgang! Farewell!"
They held each other embraced, and their lips met.
And quickly as they had found each other, they also
parted. Ottilia's light form glided up the steps; Wolfgang
stepped through the front door into the street flooded with
soft moonlight.
— o —
CHAPTER XVI.
HE wandered slowly down the street, lost in thought.
In his soul, as in the street, it was neither quite light
nor quite dark-a magic' twilight, which made everything he had experienced during the last hours appear in




312            The House of Hohenstein.
new, strange forms and proportions; even the old familiar
houses looked strange to him. He still heard the bitter
words with which he had been received by his Uncle Peter
and Aunt Bella, but only like discords which a great master
harmoniously blends into a higher accord-a sweet girlish
voice, which sounds to him from the dark distance like
angel's song, and enters his ears and his heart alike-a soft,
girlish hand, which leads him down the narrow staircasetwo dewy lips which touch his in cordial greeting: Farewell,
dear Wolfgang! farewell!
And then Wolfgang thought of the other farewell which
he had said to-day-in the bright glare of daylight, in a
magnificent room-to a marvellously beautiful lady, who did
not raise her eyes from her work as he went to the door,
his heart full of grief and wrath; and then he thought that
this young lady was she whom he loved and meant to have
for his wife, in order to share with her his griefs and his
joys, and never to part again till death should part them.
And while he thus walked through the streets, unnoticed by
all these people who passed him or stood chatting at their
doors, she was sitting on the deck of the steamboat, surrounded by her admirers, smiling and turning now to one
and now to the other! How distinctly he saw it all! How
distinctly he heard it all!-Aurelia's bold laugh, Willamowski's affected lisp, his aunt's slow, phlegmatic speech-and
through all the twaddle and the laughter a sweet, soft voice
said, Farewell, dear Wolfgang! farewell!
It was a strange conflict in his heart-the very acme of
that conflict which passed through his whole life, and which
had recently assumed a more and more definite form, till it
appeared in the shape of two beautiful girls, one of whom was
his betrothed, and yet had let him go to-day as one dismisses
an indifferent visitor; while the other, whom he saw to-day for
the second time in his life, had parted with him with a kiss
and-Farewell, dear Wolfgang! farewell!
Wolfgang had intended to call also upon Munzer, and thus
he had almost instinctively walked towards that part of the
town in which the latter lived. As he followed one of the
more lonely streets which were here frequently lined with gardens, he saw on the other side a man whose size and carriage
reminded him of Munzer. He crossed, therefore, to that side;




The House of Hohenstein.         313
but at the same moment the man disappeared through the
gate of one of those gardens which Chinese lanterns and gay
flags marked as a public resort. Wolfgang was on the point
of turning back. He knew that Munzer, from principle, never
frequented such places. And yet the man had looked so
much like Munzer-perhaps he had an appointment with
somebody here. Wolfgang entered the garden and followed
the man, who turned aside into one of the by-paths and went
into a small booth, in which a round table and a few chairs
were dimly lighted up by a wretched little lamp in a glass
dish, hanging from the ceiling. When Wolfgang reached
it, he heard the man order a bottle of wine of the pretty
waiter-girl, and then he saw how he took off his hat and
rested his head so that the long dark locks hung wild and
dishevelled over his slender, white hands.
It was Munzer.
Still Wolfgang hesitated to address his friend. Munzer
had evidently not chosen this lonely place, the quietest part
of an unpopular garden, in order to be in company. In his
whole manner there was something that filled Wolfgang with
pity, -almost with fear. But before he had come to any
decision, Munzer raised his head, and his eyes fell upon the
young man, who now approached him and offered him his
hand with a hearty greeting.
"Wolfgang! " cried Munzer. "Is it really you? and how
did you get here?"
" I saw you enter the garden, and I followed you. I was
on my way to your house. I am going to leave to-morrow,
and I should have been sorry to go without having said
good-by to you."
" You are going? " said Munzer, thinking of something
else.  "Where are you going?  Oh! I remember; they
told me. You are going to enter the army, or rather you
have entered the army, although you do not show it yet;
and you are engaged to your beautiful cousin. How much a
few months can do for a young student! But come, Wolfgang, sit down here! The pretty waiter will bring us another
glass-won't you, little one?-and you can tell me how all
these wonderful things have come to pass."'
Munzer's excessive paleness, and his eyes burning with
subdued fire, contrasted strangely with the cheerfulness
I4




3I4            The House of Hohenstein.
which he affected. Wolfgang was painfully struck by it;
nor did it escape him that Munzer hardly listened to his
recital. He became so sure that something very unpleasant
must have happened to his friend, that he broke off in the
midst of his report, and said, placing his hand on Munzer's: " Munzer, what is the matter with you to-night? "
"With me?" said Munzer, as if awaking from a dream;
"why should there be anything the matter with me?"
" You do not hear what I say."
" Yes, I do. I have heard it all, every word; and I have
been wondering in my heart how our lives have been running parallel. Fate seizes us both and hurls us into the
arena of public life, compelling us to enter the combat there,
which we might otherwise have avoided like cowards. Now
it is: Victory or Death! The ships are burnt behind us;
we can no longer return to the land we have left."
" That may be true for you, Munzer, since you have been
chosen to represent a nation. You will now enter upon an
arena which will afford you sufficient room for the broad
wings of your genius. Time has prepared the victory for
you, and you go hand in hand with time; you cannot fail to
conquer. But I? I feel conscious that I am destined to
swim against the current of time, and that it will wash me
ashore on the sand, the sand of the drill-parade-that is the
arena opening for me! I doubt that there are any laurels
to be won there."
"I did not mean it thus," said Munzer. "The main
thing is that you enter now into circles which have the enviable privilege of being free from those restraints under
which we suffer all our life long. You will be a rich man
when the old gentleman at Rheinfeld dies-very rich, I am
told. Wealth is power.. Use this power, this influence.
Where we poor fellows work with our hands year after year,
you can dig a mine and produce the same effect in a second.
And do not speak harshly of our armies! The armies are
the iron rods of our masters. If you break the rod, their arm
is powerless as a child's. A friend in the enemy's camp is
as much as a gate that has not been locked, a sentinel who at
a night's surprise gives no alarm, is a regiment which at the
decisive moment goes over to us. I only wish I could fill
every other officer's place with one of our men, and Europe




The House of Hohenstein.         315
would be free in a week!-a freedom which would owe its
birth to the treachery of thousands."
"No, no, Munzer! my liberty, the liberty I want, is not born
so low. The European armies must change, it is true, if
Europe is to be free; but I think with Major Degenfeld:
we must have a nation before we can have a national
army "
"On the contrary! " cried Munzer, with a gloomy smile,
" we can never expect to become a nation if we have not
first, in some way or other, organized a national army. No,
no, man cher, you labor under the same illusions which possess
your uncle Schmitz and Doctor Holm, that a diseased state
can be healed by slow medicines. Their remedies will soon
prove useless, and then the appeal will have to be made to
the ultima ratio of the kings, which is also the ultima ratio of
nations. Then iron will have to cure what tinctures could
not, and many a pile will have to burn all over the land,
before the air of our state is sufficiently purified to let men
breathe freely again. I tell you, Wolfgang, the day is coming when the great idea to which we have devoted our lives,
the freedom of all nations, will spread over Europe; when
the whole of mankind will be stirred up to the lowest depths,
and a new world will arise from this chaos. Happy the
man that escapes the deluge! But we must be prepared,
not to be saved, but to perish in sight of the desired havenprepared to see those we love, push us into the deep waters
in order to save their own lives. But that must not discourage the man who is doomed to fight and to die for this great
idea. His fate has been the same from the beginning of the
world. Father and mother have cursed him; friends have
betrayed him; wife and children have turned from him and
denied him; this beautiful earth has been changed into a
desert for him, and where the foxes have holes, he, like the
greatest of all, has not where to lay his head. And yet
he must go his lonely way; for what drives him onward, is
stronger than his own self, and tears are useless; what
remains to him always and everywhere, is the faith in his
great idea, the golden star of promise."
Munzer's face glowed with enthusiasm; his eyes shone
with the bright fire that burnt in his soul-but it was only
for an instant; then his face assumed once more its haggard,




316           The touse of Hohenstein.
sorrowful expression. He pushed the glass, which he had
scarcely touched, from him, and said: " You have to go, Wolfgang; it is late now, and you start early to-morrow morning."
"And you?"
"I will stay a little longer. The evening is so beautiful,
the garden so quiet. I have much to think over;'I can do
it better here than at home. And then you see the bottle
is still full; I must empty it."
And Munzer's lips quivered with a bitter smile.
Wolfgang rose; he saw that Munzer wished to be alone.
" Farewell, Munzer," he said. "When shall I see you in
Berlin?"
"In a few days, I hope. Farewell! "
They shook hands across the table, and Wolfgang left the
garden. Turning round in the dark garden-walk, he saw
Munzer sitting again with his head buried in his hands, the
picture of painful, suffering isolation. -
Wolfgang felt the deepest pity for the unhappy man. He
would have liked to turn back again; but he dared not, and
went into the street, sighing deeply.
The next morning, soon after seven o'clock, an open carriage drove up very rapidly to the front gate of the railway
station. In the carriage sat Camilla and her mother.
"Has the train left?" asked the older lady, as a porter
stepped up.
" Five minutes ago! " replied the man.
"Oh, how provoking!" exclaimed the lady.
"I said it would be so! " remarked Camilla, who had not
risen from her corner.
"Well, we must tell him in your. next letter-such things
are always better settled in writing," said her mother.
"Home, Jean!"
— 0 —




The House of Hohenstein.        317
CHAPTER XVII.
THE short winter day was drawing to an end. The sun,
which had only appeared now and then as a red disc
through the thick vapory clouds, showed itself clearly
before sinking below the horizon, and poured a flood of light
over the gray waters.  The river was swollen by wintry
storms; here and there cakes of ice were drifting down
wildly, harmonizing with black fields swept clean by the
wintry blast. The light was faint and uncertain, full of sadness; and such it appeared to an old man and a young lady
who were walking up and down by the side of a tall hedge
of spruces in the garden of the parsonage of Churchtown.
The two children who were playing between the leafless
bushes and over the bleak flower-beds, clapped their hands
with joy, and the little girl exclaimed: "Oh, what a pretty
fire."
" That is not a fire, Ella," said the boy.
" Yes it is," replied the girl, warmly; " a red fire, is it not,
mamma?" and she came running up across the parterre.
"No, my child, that is the sunset," said Clara, pushing
the curls out of the wild girl's face; " but you ought not to.
run across the flower-beds; your uncle has told you so often
enough."
" But there are no flowers now," said the girl.
"That makes no difference. Children must obey. And
there are plants there; only they lie in the ground and sleep;
and if you run over them, they wake up, and then they feel
cold, because it is winter, and they cannot fall asleep again,
it is so cold."
" Oh, the poor flowers! " said Ella, " I'll never wake them
again."
" That is right!" said the mother. "And now kiss me
and go in.; it is too cold for Charlie."
The little one raised herself on tiptoe, and as the mother
bent down she wound both her arms around her neck and
kissed her again and again, almost vehemently. Then she
ran away-not across the flower-beds now-and carried her
brother with her into the house.




3I8            The House of Hohenstein.
"How can you talk such nonsense to the child?" said
Mr. Ambrosius Kandle, as he offered his arm again to his
niece to continue their walk. " Such pretty stories are poison for a child whose fancy is already apt to run away with
her."
"But I know that I attain my end in this way. I am
sure she will take care, in her wildest romping and racing,
not to step on the beds, so as not to wake the flowers. If I
had said,'You injure the plants,' she would have replied:'What harm does that do?'"
" You encourage in the child a tendency which has caused
you much trouble in the child's father, and which has finally
destroyed your happiness in marriage."
Clara did not answer at once; her eyes were fixed upon
the tops of the tall linden-trees, against which the sun shone
red, but the light grew paler and paler every mofnent.
"I do not know, uncle," she said at last, " that I have not
acted wrongly, and misjudged Bernhard's character. Since
this exuberant fancy has developed itself in Ella so powerfully, since I see how the child colors everything, even the
most ordinary and familiar events, with the brightest hues of
her imagination, and how all talking and warning against it
are fruitless, I think very differently of Bernhard's whole
being."
" What are you going to tell him in your letter? " asked
the uncle.
"I do not know yet," replied Clara; "I am afraid the
moment which I hope for has not come yet. He mentions
again and again, in his letter, that he is more than ever convinced of being called to the one great purpose on earth, to
help his nation to recover its freedom. He even says in one
place:'I could as yet not offer you anything more than that
love which did not satisfy you, and which would satisfy you
even less now, when you can live far from me and be happy."'
"Live! yes, but how?" said Ambrosius. "Be happy?
If it were so! But you long for him by day and by night;
you have no other thought and no other wish but to be reunited to him. Why do you not say so openly and frankly?
Truth is the greatest wisdom; and to go straight at your aim,
the best diplomacy."
" In this case the straight way would be the sure road to




The House of Hohenstein.        319
failure," replied Clara. "My aim is to see Munzer happywith me, if that is possible; if it cannot be, without me.
He must first learn, to his entire satisfaction, that it was not
I who kept him from being perfectly happy. And when he
has found that out, and asks me to come back to him; and if
I then still feel the strength in me to be the mate of such a
haughty spirit-then my wish will be fulfilled; and I do not
deny it, that it is the only, the eager, consuming wish of my
life."
"For heaven's sake! " said the old gentleman, after having for some time hummed a melody, a sure sign of his being out of humor; "spare me these new-fangled notions!
Husband and wife were not intended for platonic conversations, but-why should I discuss with you matters on which
we can never hope to agree? But you have not yet explained the riddle to me: why you will not show yourself to
Munzer as you do to me? If you had done so, he would
never have let you go from him, for he would have known
that, in the whole wide world, he could not have found.a
more zealous help, a more faithful friend, or, if I may say so,
a better comrade! "
"No," said Clara. "Munzer does not know me, and it
is, of course, more his fault than mine, that he does not
know me better. At first I was too feeble and helpless for
him to lean on me; and when his example, the intercourse
with him and his friends, and my own reflection, had made
me better able to support him, I was partly ashamed of the
strength I had secretly acquired, and partly I mistrusted it,
because Munzer seemed to value it as nothing.  At the
time when he expected me to be everything to him, I could
only be his faithful, loving wife; and when I might have
been more to him, he no longer expected anything from me.
Thus we have passed each other in the dark; but when the
bandage in taken from our eyes-and I can feel with delight
the precious light-then we will fall into each other's arms,
and I shall be his wife in truth and in reality."
The old gentleman began humming his air once more, and
this time so loud and so angrily that Clara took his hand,
and said, smiling:
" Don't be angry, dear uncle! You are a vastly learned
man and a great philosopher, but, dearest uncle, you know




320            The House of Hohenstein.
nothing about love. If you had a wife, you would wish like
the others that she should not only keep the house in order
and provide for your table, but that you should also be able
to talk with her about your favorite authors, Kant, Spinoza,
and whoever they may be, and all that is dear to your heart."
" To talk philosophy to a woman! that would be worth
while! " growled the old gentleman.
" But you philosophize sometimes with me, dear uncle."
"You are an exceptio, a rara avis, a white crow."
A melancholy smile played around Clara's lips, but she
said nothing.
Ambrosius had not ceased humming and grumbling. Suddenly he cleared his throat violently, and said in the tone of
a man who has summoned courage to do a thing which he
would rather not have done:
" Look here, Clara! I have a great respect for you; I can
almost say you are the only individual of the species, femininigeneris, for whom I have ever had real respect; but for
that very reason I think you are too sensible to indulge
much longer in this absurd and foolish' illusion of an absolute passion of love. You must get over it, and you will
get over it as soon as you see that your husband does not
look upon love as a mystic and supernatural sentiment, but
as a very tangible, substantial thing. The fact is that he,
like millions of men, loves in woman only the sex, and-to
cut the matter short-is at this very moment by no means
as faithful to you, as you, of all women on earth, have a right
to expect."
Clara had turned very pale, as the choleric old gentleman
poured forth these words, which had long been weighing down
his soul, and her voice trembled slightly as she said, with all
the composure she could command:
"Have they told you that fable too?"
"That fable? How do you know it is a fable?"
"Because Munzer told me all, himself."
"What did he tell you?"
"That he had met a woman whom he thought very beautiful, as he could not well help doing, and that he-had broken
off all intercourse with her as soon as he felt it might get
the better of him and turn him aside from his duty."
"When did he tell you so?"




The House of Hohenstein.          321
"On the eve of his departure."
"And do you know who this woman is?"
"Antonia Hohenstein."
"Do you know her?"
"By sight. She is very beautiful."
"That is what he says-your husband."
"Uncle, how did he ever offend you, that you are so
bitter?"
"Me? He never offended me, at least directly; but you,
poor child, he has offended all the more grievously. I have
long hesitated to tell you all that I have learnt from many
sources. I waited so long, because I hoped you might at
last conquer this ill-fated attachment, but instead of that I
see you give yourself up to it more and more. I must, therefore, speak. Truth is always a good thing and a sweet fruit,
though the hull may be bitter. Munzer has not broken off
all intercourse with her; on the contrary, he has continued
it in the most public manner, and still continues it, as far as
I know. And my authorities are good. I have heard men
in town, who were formerly very warm admirers of your
husband, complain bitterly of his recklessness, mainly because it injures him and his party alike. I heard the general at Rheinfeld the other day speak of it very roughly and
rudely; he had heard it all from the president, who had just
been in Berlin, where he had met Munzer and Antonia quite
frequently. To-day the steward at Rheineck told me that
the baroness had sent word to put the chateau in order, as
she would come home in a week to stay there for some time;
and the reception-rooms were to be fitted up, as she expected
to see much company-gentlemen, of course, for ladies do
not visit this Baroness Hohenstein. I cannot help thinking
that this looks very suspicious. A week after Munzer leaves
Cologne, she goes off to Berlin; there she is seen only in
ultra-liberal circles, that is to say, in Munzer's circles, where
she plays the Aspasia. Hardly is the convention dissolved,
and Munzer writes to you and his constituents that he will
return to Cologne, than she comes back likewise, and goes,
in midwinter, into the country, after having been absent for
years, fits up her house for a number of visitors, and leaves
no doubt on everybody's mind that among these visitors
Munzer will of course not be wanting.
14*




322            The House of Hohenstein.
"You look quite pale, Clara, and your eyes are full of tears.
Poor child! I would have given much to spare you, but we
are told to pluck out the eye that tempts us, and I do not
mean to let my brother's child perish because her husband
is a wretch. Go in, my child! It is quite cool out here, and
you will wish to be alone. I must go up to the old general,
I hope for the last time, for I mean to tell him that if he will
not listen to reason, I will have nothing more to do with him.
I am tired of his baronial freaks. Good-by, my child! "
He kissed Clara on her brow and turned to go. Clara
did not move. Her pale features were quivering with sorrow and pain.
"Uncle!" she sobbed forth, stretching out her hand
towards him as he was slowly walking off.
The old gentleman, who might have expected something
of the kind, turned back, came close up to the poor woman,
and said in a much softer tone than he had yet used that
evening:
"What is it, my child?"
"I-I do not know. I have forgotten.- I'll remember
when you come back! "
The old man looked at her with a serious and sorrowful
air as she tried to smile; then he turned suddenly, lest she
should see the tears that rose in his eyes, and he went away
towards the modest, one-storied house.
Mr. Ambrosius shook his head, hummed and grumbled in
a most formidable manner, went humming and grumbling
through the garden-gate, out upon the street, and walked off
rapidly in the direction of Castle Rheinfeld.
----
CHAPTER       XVIII.
AS his reverence, Mr. Ambrosius Kandle, in his high,
well-blacked Bluchers, was walking through the village, and then on the road which leads from Churchtown to Rheinfeld, along the bank of the river, no one
would have suspected that he was seventy years old-his




The House of loh/enstein.        323
step was so steady, and his carriage so firm and upright.
He put down his heavy cane with great energy, and bored
it deep into the sand on the shore; his eyes looked clear
and sharp from under the heavy eye-brows over the gFay
waters of the stream as they rolled in mighty whirlpools.
He answered with a hearty, powerful growl the greetings of
the peasant women whom he met, although no one could
possibly have made out whether he answered their " Praise
be to Christ! " with the conventional "In all eternity!" or
whether he growled at them a " Go to the devil! "
The women seemed to think the latter more probable; for
after they had gone on a few steps, they looked back at the
sturdy man in black, and crossed themselves devoutly, as if
an evil eye had charmed them.
It must be admitted that the priest's eyes did not abound
in particularly kind looks, and that his face was not one to
inspire confidence; in fact, the graces had had little to do
with his form and his manner of thinking. Nevertheless, it
would have been a grievous wrong to consider him anything
else but a good, kind man.  It was an evidence of his
independence of character, that his superiors were even less
fond of him than his parishioners. The story went, actually,
that the archbishop had said to some persons who complained of the liberal-minded, obstinate priest: "You may
see how you can manage him; I will have nothing more to
do with the rude fellow." No doubt Mr. Ambrosius shared
this talent to satisfy neither those above him nor those below
him with many other good people whom candor does not permit to go any other way than that prescribed by their convictions. There was perhaps not a lonelier man than Mr.
Ambrosius. Such he had been when he came, forty years
ago, to be installed priest at the village; such he was now;
the only difference seemed to be that his plain face looked
browner and more wrinkled, and his heavy eye-brows had
grown whiter and bushier.
No one knew what sad experiences in life had made Mr.
Ambrosius so brown and wrinkled, so knotty and hard, like
an old oak stump. An'old, old tradition said he had fallen
violently in love with the mother of his pupils, when he was
tutor in the family of a rich and powerful Roman nobleman,
that this love had been reciprocated, but finally taken a




324            The House of Hohenslein.
tragic end, as could not well be otherwise. The lady had
been murdered by her jealous husband; Ambrosius had
taken refuge in a convent, in order to escape the fury of the
madman, or, as others had it, in order to flee from the world
in which his first attempt at happiness had been so signally
unfortunate.
Clara had heard these stories often enough when she was
a little child, and her parents spoke of Ambrosius, who was
ten years older than his brother, Clara's father.  The
brothers saw each other but rarely. They agreed in very
few things. Clara's father had been a teacher in the same
college which Munzer had been compelled to leave on
account of his liberal views in politics-an easy, good hearted
man, to whom philosophy, and especially his brother's rigid
ascetic doctrine, was a sealed book, and who had, therefore,
an instinctive dread of the "eccentric old man." And the
old man, on his side, did not know what to do with his
brother, who knew nothing of his favorite books, of the
Vedas, of Molino's Guide Spirituel, of Madame Guyon's Torrents, and other mystic works. Still he had never forgotten
that he had but one brother, and that brother but one child;
for when Clara's father died-the mother had died long ago
-Mr. Ambrosius appeared instantly at the house of mourning, and comforted the poor twelve-year-old orphan as well as
he could, by telling her that since Adam and Eve all men
had died, that death was no more of an evil than sleep, and
that it would become an evil only if there was an awakening
from it, which was not likely as far as experience and philosophy taught him. Clara ceased crying, not because these
arguments made any impression upon her, but because there
was something in the whole manner of this strange old man
which was sympathetic to her own reserved and decided
nature, and as he, in spite of all the points of difference
between them, resembled her father very much, she could
understand him after a manner at least. He promised he
would take care of her as far as his means permitted, and
the priest kept his word. He paid all the funeral expenses; he paid the unexpectedly heavy debts of his brother;
he paid the child's board and tuition in a convent to which
she was sent; and he would have done even more than that
for her, if she had not at seventeen declared she would now




The House of  ohetnstein.        325
provide for her own wants. The one thing she had acquired
at the convent enabled her to obtain a place as teacher in a
boarding-school; this was her skill in all kinds of work, in
sewing, knitting, and embroidering, and it was here she had
become acquainted with Munzer, who was teaching history
and literature in the upper classes.
Since that time Clara had seen the priest but rarely.
After her marriage he had written her a curious letter, in
which he sympathized with her concerning the step she had
taken. " A person who marries," he said among other things,
"is like X, an unknown quantity, which can never be ascertained, or like a vessel which has lost its rudder and is
drifting about on a sea full of reefs and sand-banks. But if
you should ever suffer shipwreck, you know a harbor which
will always be open to you. I am not a man for happy people, but the unfortunate have ever found a friend in me, as
far as I was allowed to help others." Clara had never
shown this letter to Munzer, for he did not like the old gentleman. "I am not fond of people," he said, "who insist
upon being different from other men, and who do nothing to
overcome their eccentricities. Your uncle, with all his philosophical radicalism, is in politics only an incorrigible old
fogy, and hence I do not like him."
The old man seemed to have totally forgotten his fosterchild.
All the more surprising was it to Clara, when Ambrosius,
who had not been in town for years, suddenly appeared at
her house, during the spring of the year, and while the agitation about the elections was at its height. He had asked
after her health, begged her to show him the children, and
when Munzer came home quite late at night, he had made
him promise that he would entrust Clara and the children
to his care, if ever political disturbances or other difficulties
should prevent him from providing for them at his own
house. Munzer promised, though, as he said, only in order
to get rid of the old man. He did not then anticipate that
a few weeks later the little cottage in the suburbs, which
he had occupied since his marriage, would be empty, and
that he would be on his way to Berlin, while Clara wept at
the uncle's house over her lost home.




326            The House of Hohenstein.
CHAPTER XIX.
"gOH, these women! these women!" murmured Ambrosius, bravely walking on his way. "How can we
help creatures that will not forget and cannot learn
anything?"
The old gentleman felt as uncomfortable as a physician
who has prescribed a large dose of a powerful medicine, and
afterwards begins to ask himself if he could, at need, justify
his prescription before the tribunal of his Art. The wretched
look which his niece had given him when he tore her fair
dream so pitilessly to pieces, was burning his soul-it was
like the look of a deer wounded unto death! Every time
Ambrosius recalled that look, he stuck his cane angrily into
the sand and gravel, and his sharp, piercing eyes looked
almost savagely at the waters of the stream, which grew
darker and darker, and up at the wintry evening sky, on
which heavy black clouds were drifting slowly before a camp
wind, uttering low but dismal noises.
Ambrosius pressed his broad-brimmed hat lower down
upon his brow, buttoned his long black coat up to the neck,
and walked more rapidly along the lonely path by the riverside. A stone, which lay in the path and against which he
hurt his foot, made the vessel of his wrath quite overflow.
"A stupid world, a good-for-nothing, impudent, barefaced world," he growled. " I wonder how anybody can imagine God made it. An insane asylum is this world, a madhouse, full of old and young fools, cunning, malicious, stupid,
and wicked. Yes, and the old fools are the worst, because
they have no excuse for their folly, not even that of passionate, overflowing blood. I am such an old fool! What have
I to do with the love affairs of others-I who have abjured,
fifty years ago, all that foolish stuff of vanity and sensuality
which men call love? Why do I not leave them in the low,
misty air near the ground, if they cannot rise into the pure
sphere of spirits? Why must I try to persuade this old sinner at Rheinfeld not to be afraid of death? Let him die,
and rot in his sins, and carry the burden of his iniquity
through all eternity! What have I to do with that? Does
it concern me more than the silent brood in the waters




The House of Hohenstein.          327
there, who swallow each other and re-produce again and
again, and who are now, after millions of years, still the
same they were in the day of creation? Is that a reason
why I must use up my boots and knock my feet to pieces on
this miserable road, and catch a cold and rheumatism in this
damp night air? Hallo! Who is that?"
" I! "
" I!" cried the priest, angrily. "Everybody is I! Why
can't you say at once that your name is Balthasar? And
why must you hide in a thorn-bush by the wayside, and
frighten people out of their wits?"
" His excellency sent me down to lie in wait here for your
reverence, and to lead you through the park into the house."
"Ah! and why that? " growled the priest, following Balthasar through the narrow gate, almost concealed under
briars and creepers, which the latter invariably used for entering and leaving the park. "Am I a murderer? Am I a
thief?"
"If your reverence would walk close behind me?" said
Balthasar. " In winter it is wet here, and we might easily
sink into the morass if we.missed the road. Why did his
excellency order me to lead you this way, where few men are
ever seen, and which is almost impracticable? Perhaps I
may as well tell your reverence the true reason, which is,
that Kilian-who does not belong to the class of good men
-since your reverence has called here several times at
night, now lets loose that big dog Pluto, who is as savage
and bloodthirsty as a bloodhound, so that a stranger, coming alone into the court-yard, is not sure of his life; and
although my company —"
" Look here, Master Hans," said the priest, walking by the
side of the schoolmaster down a long avenue between two
rows of beeches, through the bare branches of which the
wind was whistling fiercely; " I never thought you were a
fool, as other people seemed to imagine. On the contrary,
I suspect you hear more with your big ears than you let out
of your big mouth, and that you have more ideas under your
bald and very ugly skull than is good for you in your situation. Now tell me, why has that old man, the general, so
suddenly conceived such a friendship for me that he has
sent for me to-day, the third time within a week? "




328            The House of Hohenstein.
" Don't you know? "
" If I knew, would I ask you?"
" I mean, has he not told you himself?"
"Who cn earth can make sense out of such confused
speeches? What does he want of me? Out with it! "
" I do not know," replied Balthasar. " I only know that
he called me up to him not long ago, as he sat in his bathchair in the hall, and I was passing by to get my victuals,
and said, Do you know a man, Balthasar, who is afraid of
nothing?-not of man, nor of the devil?' After thinking
it over a little while, I answered that I thought our priest,
Mr. Ambrosius Kandle, was such a man. Then he said,'Bring me the man.' Then I went and brought you."
" Hm!" growled Ambrosius. "Very flattering indeed!
But suppose I am afraid of nothing-which, however, is by
no means true, for I am afraid of many things, for instance
of rheumatism-what is the old gentleman afraid of?"
" First of all," replied Balthasar, "of life, which his sufferings make a hell; of death, which he looks upon as the door
of hell; of men, from whom he expects the worst; and of
God, whom he imagines made after his own pattern, a god
of wrath and of revenge."
"Then you think the old man is a great sinner?"
"Yes! " replied Balthasar, after some hesitation.
"And what interest have you in him that you should
crouch by the hour in this damp, cold wind, near the highroad, because he tells you to do so?"
"The same interest, I dare say, which brought your reverence all the way from home to Rheinfeld."
" That's a different thing," growled Ambrosius; "I only
do what-is my duty and obligation in coming to the assistance of an unhappy mortal, although the old gentleman, who
is not a Catholic, does not exactly belong to my department."
" And I do my duty," said Balthasar.
"Did the old man ever do you any good?"
" No, he has invariably teased me and scoffed at me; he
has often, in his passion, beaten and ill-treated me. As long
as I have known him, he has been a terrible man, and I used
to be very much afraid of him."
"And now?"




The House of Hohenstein.         329
"Now I pity him, as I would pity a venomous serpent that
was lying half crushed on the highroad.""Is that woman, your wife, still with him? He meant to
turn her off the last time I was here."
"She is still with him; otherwise I would not be here."
"How so?"
"Because she threatens to come to me if the general
turns her off; and if she came to me, I should have to run."
"To run? And where?" 
"Anywhere, even were it into the river."
" Pleasant company! " growled Ambrosius.
---
CHAPTER XX.
THE two had walked between the hedges and bushes,
which, although leafless, were still impenetrable to
the eye, till they came to the spot near the little lake
from which the wife and the daughters of the president had
watched the chateau on that memorable spring morning.
"If you will wait here a moment," said Balthasar, "I will
go ahead and see if we can venture near."
Balthasar crept cautiously along the margin of the lake,
and soon disappeared under the overhanging boughs of the
willows. The priest leaned half against the up-turned stonetable and looked watchfully around him, his arms crossed on
his breast. The situation was calculated to test Balthasar's
good opinion of the priest's courage. Behind him strange
and uncanny noises came from the dark depths of the
park; all around him the dry bushes groaned and sighed in
the chill wind; from the lake dismal fogs arose and spread
themselves like a pall over the lower grounds; beyond the
lake, the chateau loomed up, silent and dark, like a gigantic
coffin; up on the tall tower a vane was creaking discordantly;
and each time, like a furious echo, came the low howl of the
bloodthirsty dog whom Kilian let loose at nightfall.
Ambrosius raised himself to his full height, and seized his
heavy cane with his old but still powerful hand.




330            The Hrouse of Hohlenstein.
"I wish the old box over there would burn up, or some
other extraordinary event would happen; this staring at
mysterious darkness is intolerable. I wish these Hohensteins were where pepper grows. There must be an aristocracy, of course; aristocracy is a law of nature; the better
man rules everywhere. But bad women and mad old fools
rre not an aristocracy.  Is this Antonia Hohenstein, this
modern Messalina, any better than Clara? Is that grayhaired old sinner yonder better than I am? And yet the
haughty sinners triumph over poor dear Clara, and I stand
here shivering in the night air at the edge of an old pond,
sure of a fearful attack of rheumatism, for the sake of that
old man. If that mad schoolmaster only would come back!
I feel as if I had a murder on my mind-Holla!"
" Hush! " whispered Balthasar, who suddenly turned up
out of the mist, quite close to the priest; " we must keep
very quiet. They are on the watch; but it is of no use.
Give me your hand!"
Ambrosius hesitated for a moment whether he should go
on, or abandon the adventure before it was too late. But
his personal courage, which did not easily give way before
danger, and his heart truly generous and noble, ands*ever
yet known to have refused help and comfort to an unfortunate being, soon made him suppress the selfish suggestion.
" Come Balthasar! " he said, resolutely seizing the schoolmaster's hand. They went around the lake and came to the
glass-door under the balcony with the four pillars, which led
from the park directly into the garden-room. On the left
hand of this room was the general's chamber. A faint glimmer of light penetrated the curtains of this room, which had
been let down.
" They think the general is in this room," whispered Balthasar, "but I have taken him through the garden-room
into the armory. I am often at work, at this hour, among
the old lumber, because I have no time during the day; so
they are accustomed to hear me rummage there. In the
general's room we are not safe; they would listen at the
door. I thought it was better to be in a cold room, safe,
than in a warm room and betrayed."
Balthasar drew a key from his pocket, with which he cautiously opened the door of the garden-room, and then carried




The House of Hohenstein.          331
the priest through a dark room on the right to a second door,
which he unlocked with the same precaution. When they
had entered, he bolted it on the inside and whispered to his
companion to stand still till he had made a light. The garden-room had been dimly lighted by the tall windows, which
came down to the floor, but in this room the darkness was
impenetrable. The odor of rust and mould was so strong
that it nearly took away the priest's breath. He felt his
heart beating wildly, and very nearly cried out aloud, as a
bluish light blazed up suddenly, and iron men with swords
and halberds in their iron hands stared at him from all sides
through their hollow helmets. The schoolmaster had lit a
lantern, and the priest cast by its pale light a shy glance at
his surroundings.
As far as he could make it out, he found himself in a very
lofty and spacious hall, the walls of which were covered in
the upper half with flags and banners and other emblems,
while open shelves all around the room displayed vast numbers of weapons of every kind. Besides this, there were
stands crossing the room in various directions, on which
were lying hundreds of guns, rifles, carbines, and pistols.
Then all kinds of lumber were scattered over the floor: broken armor, iron tools, broken furniture-a huge mass of
debris, proving that the armory must have been used for
years as an immense lumber-room. The whole looked to
the priest so much like what he had read of mediaeval torture chambers and similar places of horror, that his overwrought imagination conjured up new fantastic forms in
every corner on which Balthasar's lantern threw now and
then a feeble ray.
And a real picture of horror struck his eyes as he suddenly saw in the most remote corner of the hall to which
Balthasar had led him, a crouching figure seated on a large
box, in which he could only after some time recognize the
old general.
The general had wrapped his long, lean body in a dressing-gown of fur, while a pointed night-cap covered his bald
head. The wrinkled old face was shrivelled up from cold and
fear; the dark eyes, which were still able at times to flash up
fiercely, were glassy and fixed; the white moustache, which
usually rose in two stiff points with the most martial preci



332            The House of Hohenstein.
sion, now hung drooping over the toothless mouth-the
whole man was, all in all, a perfect picture of misery, rather
than of terror; and when Ambrosius beheld this wretched
being, evidently so much in need of assistance, he recovered
at once the calmness which had abandoned him for a
moment.
The general murmured something, which might have been
a greeting. Balthasar unfolded a camp-stool, which he leaned
against the wall, inviting the priest to sit down, close to the
general. Then he put the lantern at some little distance on
the ground, so that its light fell upon the two men, turned
back into the darkness, which filled the whole remaining
part of the hall, and busied himself with the armor, making,
probably intentionally, more noise than seemed to be exactly necessary.
Balthasar had no sooner turned his back, than the general
said in a hoarse, anxious tone, embracing the priest's hands
with his long, bony fingers:
"Save me, priest!"
"From what? or from whom?" asked Ambrosius, unconsciously loosening his hands from the damp, cold grasp.
"From this horrid woman, this accursed witch, who threatens to bring me to the gallows."
"How can she do that? People are not hanged nowadays for nothing," replied the priest.
" For nothing?" repeated the spectre-like old man, nodding
portentously with his long, tasselled night-cap. "Yes, yesfor nothing at all! and they should hang me now for that!
after such a long time! and an old man, who has already
one foot in the grave!"
"Let me tell you," said the priest, in an almost rude, severe
tone; " it is evident that there is something on your conscience, or you would have turned off the old woman long
ago, instead of minding her threats. I do not know that I
can help you; and I doubt it, to tell the truth. But if you
want me to help you, you must make a clean breast of it at
once-the rest will follow."
" So that you might get me hanged, too," said the general,
and his withered features were distorted in a hideous grin;
I'll have a care."
"Then do what you like! " said Ambrosius, angrily; " I




The House of Hohenstein.         333
have no desire to get my death in this abominable ice-cellar,"
and he rose from his seat.
"Sit still, for God's sake," whined the old man in the
night-cap; "and don't speak so loud, or Balthasar will hear
you. I'll tell you everything, if you insist upon it."
Ambrosius sat down again. The old man seemed to collect his thoughts to commence his confession. At last he
said:
" Suppose I became a Catholic, priest? "
"What do you mean?"
"They say if a man is a Catholic, he can do what he
chooses, and no harm done, provided he tells his priest.
The priest prays for him, and it is all right again."
"Not quite so easy as that," replied the priest.
" I'll pay a good round sum, besides," said the old man.
"I won't mind a couple of thousands."
"No use at all," growled the priest. "One or the other
of my brethren might possibly be willing to reconcile you, on
such terms, with divine justice. But the thing cannot be so
comfortably arranged with earthly justice.  The question
just now, it seems to me, concerns rather the earth than
heaven."
"Then you cannot help me? "
"No!"
"Well, then, you can go to the devil! " cried the old man,
savagely seizing a battle-axe which happened to lie near him
on the box, to hurl at his visitor's head.
He would no doubt have carried out his purpose, if just
at that moment a very loud knocking had not been heard at
the door of the armory.
"Who is there? " asked Balthasar, who had been making
a terrible noise with his armor and his helmets.
"It is I, you fool!" replied a screaming voice. "Make
haste and get yourself home! Are you going to stay here
all night?"
"I am nearly ready," replied Balthasar.
"Well, I hope you are, else-" said the screaming voice.
The old skeleton in the fur gown had moved up close to
the wall during this conversation, crouching down low and
trembling in all his limbs. Even Ambrosius had, in spite
of his pluck, looked round for some better weapon than his




334            The House of Hohenstein.
stick. Balthasar came up and whispered: "I knew she
would not dare come in; she is afraid of the old lumber.
But we shall have to go, your reverence! She'll close the
window-shutters now towards the yard, and that is our time
to be off."
"Then let us be gone!" said the priest. "I am ready, I
assure you."
" But you'll come again, priest, won't you? You'll come
again?" screamed the poor old creature, dragging himself
slowly after them in his loose felt shoes and seizing the
priest's long coat from behind.
" I'll see," replied Ambrosius, "but I don't see how I can
help you."
" I'll give you half of my fortune if you make me Catholic,
so that they can't hang me!" whispered the old man in the
priest's ear.
" We'll see!" said Ambrosius.
They had reached the door of the armory. Balthasar
opened it cautiously and looked out.  "All is quiet," he
whispered; "now, quick."
As Ambrosius was going to slip out, the old man held
him back.
" I'll give you half of my fortune, you may rely on it."
" Quick! or we shall be too late!" whispered Balthasar.
The old man released his hold and slipped silently across
the inlaid floor to the opposite side of the hall, and disappeared through the door which led to the inner apartments.
Ambrosius and Balthasar went through the glass door,
which the latter locked carefully, into the park. Night had
come, in the meanwhile. Balthasar had blown out his lantern and went ahead, Ambrosius following close behind him.
They had made only a few steps in the dark, when a low,
coarse voice called out at some distance: "Look, Pluto,
look!" A loud howl followed the command; then they
heard the brute rush through the bushes, straight towards
the lake, near which they were. Ambrosius could not suppress a low cry, but Balthasar whispered to him: " He does
not hurt me or any one who is with me; there he is; ah,
Pluto! good creature, Pluto! There!"
The enormous brute jumped up at the schoolmaster, lay



The House of Hohenstein.          335
ing his powerful paws on the man's shoulders; then he paid
the same attention to the priest.
"Good Pluto! good!-now let us go!" said Balthasar,
and the dog rushed back again into the bushes, while the
other two continued on their way, hurriedly and silently, till
they reached the little gate through which they had entered
the park.
The priest breathed freely, as the breeze blew into his face,
coming fresh from the river across the open fields. In the village of Rheinfeld, which lay to their left, and lower down near
the river, a few lights were twinkling here and there. The
road to Churchtown branched off here, and led some distance above the village into the path by the river-side.
"Will you go down with me as far as the river, Balthasar?" asked the priest. The tone in which he said these
words was far more courteous than that in which he usually
addressed the schoolmaster. The timid-looking little man
had risen considerably in his estimation during the last
hour.
"With pleasure, your reverence!"
"Tell me, Balthasar," the priest said, after a pause;
"since when has that woman become so savage against the
old gentleman? I should have thought it was her advantage
to live in peace with him! "
"Since this spring, your reverence; since the visitors all
were here. She never wanted the excellency to be on
good terms with his relations. She scolds him now, because
she says he is throwing away his money on these beggars,
especially on Wolfgang, who is a very nice, affable young
man, and as they say  -"
"I know, I know!" said Ambrosius. "The old gentleman told me all about it. He has done more for his family
of late than formerly, and the old woman does not like that.
Do you think, Balthasar, she can really get the old gentleman hanged if she chooses?"
" She says she can; but I think it is an idle threat."
" Hm, hm!" said the priest. "But here we are at the
crossroads. I will not detain you any longer.'
The priest turned and went on a few steps, then he
paused and said:
" Balthasar, can you tell me how loing it is since that




336            The House of Hohensten.
handsome, tall young fellow, George, from Churchtown, who
was in the general's service, died?"
" That may be ten years now, your reverence."
" I was sick at the time, and don't remember the story
exactly. Did he not die very suddenly? what did he die of?"
" He was drunk, and fell in the middle of night down the
steep stone steps in the tower, and so unluckily that he fell
with his temple right upon the sharp edge of the lowest step,
and died instantly."
"That was a very unfortunate fall," growled the priest.
"Good-night, Balthasar "
" Good-night, your reverence!"
The two men parted, and a few moments later they were
out of sight, for deep darkness covered the wide stream and
the bare fields that night.
CHAPTER XXI.
D   URING the same dark and dismal night, several
officers were sitting around a punch-bowl in the
officers' quarters of the guard-house at St. Sebastian,
a fort belonging to the fortifications of Cologne.  The
gentlemen had evidently been drinking for some time; the
supposition was at least warranted by a long row of empty
bottles standing against the wall, and by the more or less
glassy expression of the young men's eyes.
The guard-room was a tolerably large corner room, which
had windows on two sides. The furniture was extremely
simple. A large sofa covered with black leather, an armchair of the same kind, a few cane-bottom chairs, a writingdesk, a cupboard for glasses and plates-all very much out
of repair. Above the sofa, on the wall, hung a large portrait of the commander-in-chief in a black frame; and from
the ceiling, above the bowl, a lamp with a green shade, the
light of which was considerably obscured by the tobaccosmoke which rose incessantly from half-a-dozen cigars, forming a dark reddish haze around the lamp.




The House of Hohenstein.          337
"Suppose we console ourselves during our host's absence
by a little play," said Cuno Hohenstein, breaking a pause in
the conversation, during which the cigars had been glowing
with unusual energy.
"Suppose we don't till your cousin comes back," said
Todwitz, a blond, modest-looking youth. "I should think
it was not the correct thing to do such a thing during his
absence. What do you think, Willamowski? "
"Wha-a-at? " said the baron, who had profited by the
pause in the conversation to take a little nap.
"Todwitz proposes a toast: Camilla Hohenstein!" said
Lieutenant Wyse, brother of the assistant-judge, and much
dreaded on account of his wit.
" De tout, mon coeur /" said the baron with great promptness, but with uncertain voice.  " e Z'amie de tout, mon
coeur! "
A shout of laughter received this confession, and encouraged Lieutenant Wyse to practice his wit a little further at the
expense of the half-intoxicated man.
"Drink out, baron! the glass must be emptied when we
drink a lady's health!"
" De tout, mon coeur / " stammered Willamowski, emptying
the glass the other had filled for him, and then sinking back
in his corner of the sofa. Wyse beckoned to the others:
"Willamowski, do you hear me?"
"Yes, in three devils' name, what do you want?"
"You said in your sleep you worshipped Camilla. Hohenstein, who has just come in from going the rounds, heard you,
and is furious. He insists upon fighting you!"
" De tout, mon coeur/" stammered the young man, overcome
with sleep. " All right! Elle m'aime aussi-elle m'ai-"
" You had better stop now, Wyse," said Todwitz. "You
might go too far."
"Besides, he won't tell us anything new; we know all
about it," said Lieutenant Count Hinkel, the nephew of the
general of that name.
" I don't know! That last thing about her loving him
might not be so perfectly true!" said Cuno Hohenstein, who
had made a very wry face during the scene.
" For heaven's sake, Cuno, you don't mean to bring up
your old notions?" cried Wyse. "No, my dear boy; no
15




338            The House of Holzenstein.
harmi done to your usual good luck among women; but in
this case you have failed, failed miserably."
" Failed as miserably as your brother in his examination,
with seventy marks short of the standard!" said Hinkel.
Ensign Odo was roused from lis lethargy by this somewhat indelicate allusion to a misfortune which had befallen
him a few weeks ago for the second time. He could never
resist the second bowl and the sixth cigar, but the shock was
too rude.
"I'd much rather fail ever so badly than march by on
parade, in the way Wolfgang did to-day," he snarled.
"Yes indeed!" cried Hinkel; "that march was simply
horrible! The time already was horrible, but when they
marched by the general-great heavens! Upon my word
and honor!-first to the right, then to the left; they gave
way like a flock of geese. Uncle was beside himself. He
said he had never seen the like of it in his life-that was
the result of book-learning-arrest in his room-well! You
know the old one! I think Wolfgang came pretty near being
sent to the guard-house!"
" Or being cashiered, like the major!" said Wyse.
" Well, gentlemen, among us be it said, Degenfeld deserved
it all," said Hinkel.
"Did you read the pamphlet?  Is it really so bad?"
asked Todwitz.
"Bad? I should think so! " cried Hinkel. "Upon my
word and honor! I saw the thing on my uncle's writingtable and ran my eye over it.  A small little thing, but
such nonsense! He denounces everything, everything, I tell
you! Arms bad, tactics bad, parade-march nonsense, large
garrisons useless; instead of these he wants camps like the
French camp at Chalons; one year's service for the infantry, eighteen months for cavalry and artillery. And to cap
the climax, non-commissioned officers to have prefermentbecome officers!"
" Nonsense! " said Wyse.
" As I tell you, Wyse! To become commissioned officers!
He thinks it will be an immense advantage to the army! "
"The fellow must be mad " said Cuno.
"Looks so!" echoed Hinkel.
At this moment a sergeant entered.




The House of Hohenstein.          339
"What do you want? " thundered Cuno.
"Report."
"The lieutenant is going the rounds.  What is the
matter?"
" A man has been arrested-resisted the sentinel! "
" All right! Put the fellow into the black-hole. I'll tell
the lieutenant when he comes home."
" Aye, aye, sir."
The sergeant turned on his heel and left the room.
"Nice things going on now," said Wyse. " Since the
state of siege we have more persons under arrest every evening than formerly in a week. The rabble will have to
learn manners now, and high time, too. But that man Hohenstein don't seem to be coming back again. Where can he
be?"
"I suppose he calls at every post," said Cuno; "the tender conscience he has from his mother would not be satisfied otherwise."
" Look here, Cuno," said Wyse, "you had better say nothing of your cousin's humble descent on his mother's side.
They tell a great many stories about you and that pretty
Miss Schmitz. How is that? Has the girl any money? "
" Not a red cent. The uncle is said to have been rich;
now he has lost everything; so you can see what the report
amounts to," said Cuno, dipping his blond moustache into
his wine-glass.
"Well, nobody thought you were in earnest, I am sure,"
said Wvse.
"They only looked upon it as a revenge on your cousin.
He has stolen your Camilla, and you run away with his pretty
cousin. But I'll vanish-Hohenstein can empty his bowl
alone. Who'll come along?"
"I suppose all of us," said Hinkel. "Hallo, baron, we
are going home."
" De tout, mon coeur " said Willamowski, rising in his sofa
corner.
"I have an awful headache!"
" You'll feel better in the fresh air. Here is your sword!"
The gentlemen buttoned up their uniforms, put on their
swords, and drew their paletots around them, just as Wolfgang entered the room.




340            The House of Hohenstein.
"Why, gentlemen," he said, "you are surely not going
already?"
"Already?" said Wyse. "It is one o'clock, and none of
us came home this morning before six. Why did you stay
out so long?"
"Well, I made as much haste as I could."
"Then you must be tired," said Wyse, dryly. "Goodnight."
" Good-night!" said Wolfgang, as dryly and curtly; " speed
the parting guest, you know!"
The gentlemen took their leave, not without various allusions to "his excessive zeal, which would no doubt cool off
in the course of time "-allusions which Wolfgang understood perfectly. He knew but too well that it was in the
eyes of his comrades the most ridiculous and at the same
time the most impolite thing in the world towards guests in
the guard-room, if the officer on duty really went the rounds,
as the regulations required him to do, visiting every post
within the rayon of the citadel. They took it easier, and
entered their report as if all had been done, while they sat
comfortably around their punch-bowl. But he knew, also,
that what others might do with impunity, might be severely
visited upon him.
When his guests had all left, amid much amusement at the
unsteady gait of Baron Willamowski and Ensign Odo Hohenstein, he ordered the windows to be opened, to let out the
tobacco smoke and the fumes of the wine, and asked the
sergeant on duty if anything had happened during his absence.
" A man has been arrested, lieutenant. I was ordered to
put him into the black-hole with the other men, but the man
looked like a respectable person, so I put him into the officer's room; the other room is full of vermin."
Sergeant Ruchel, a handsome, intelligent-looking man,
would hardly have dared take such an irregular step if Wolfgang's kindly manner had not gained him the love and the
confidence of his men during the fortnight he had been on
service in the regiment. Still, he mentioned his infraction of
the regulation with much hesitation, and felt evidently quite
relieved when Wolfgang, instead of being furious, asked him
quietly, and as if to obtain information:




The House of Hohenstein.          34I
"Must I keep the man here?"
"Won't be required, lieutenant. He has not been entered on the book. The lieutenant might take a look at
him."
" Will you show me the way?"
" Yes, sir! "
Sergeant Ruchel lighted a lantern, took the keys from a
hook on the door, and lighted Wolfgang up a narrow passage, till he came to a door, which he opened.
"Will you give me the lantern? Thanks! You can wait
here!"
"Yes, sir!"
Wolfgang entered the small; damp room, in which a man
sat at a table, his back turned to the door. He rested his
head in his hands and seemed to sleep-at least he did not
stir when the door opened. Wolfgang placed the lantern on
the table and walked up to the stranger.
"Sir!"
The man started up.
" Uncle Peter!"
Peter Schmitz stared with dark angry eyes at the officer
before him, whom he apparently did not recognize at first as
his nephew. Then his face brightened up with a contemptuous smile.' With whom have I the honor?"
"Uncle," said Wolfgang, with a voice full of emotion,
"you ought to be more generous than chance, which makes
us meet here face to face."
"; Chance, my good friend," said Uncle Peter, who was
too passionate to carry out the part he had proposed to play,
"makes of us only what we make of ourselves: of one an
honest man; of another-if you have no orders to give me,
sir, you need not trouble yourself any further. I prefer
decidedly being left alone."
" Uncle, uncle! you will be very sorry to-morrow to have
treated your sister's son so harshly."
There was such a tone of deep and genuine sorrow in
Wolfgang's voice, that Uncle Peter was moved by it, angry
as he was.
"No use complaining!" he said, roughly. "What is
done, is done; you must take the consequences of what you




342            The House of Hohenstein.
have done, as I must take the consequences of my convictions. It seems that you command at the guard-house
when your uncle has been put under arrest because he was
impudent enough to resist the brutality of a patrol, who
would not allow him to converse with some neighbors in
the street. That may be rather strange, but what is done is
done, and therefore you had better do what your duty
requires. Am I to be put in chains? Or am I to be shot at
once?"
Uncle Peter's affected calmness had left him long since.
He was walking up and down with long strides in the little
room, as he was fond of doing; and when he had finished
his little speech, he stopped before Wolfgang with his arms
crossed on-his breast.
" I believe, uncle," said Wolfgang, with a sorrowful smile,
" the matter will end in less tragic style if you permit me to
accompany you out of-this room and out of the citadel.
You shall not stay here one moment longer than you
choose."
" But I prefer staying here, my friend," answered Peter.
"I mean to see how far this rule of the sword will dare to go.
I do not intend being the foot-ball of arbitrary power, which
takes up a citizen like a thief, and throws him without trial
or judgment into a black-hole, and then sends him adrift at
convenience. You have the power; I have the right. Let
us see who will go farthest!"
"But, uncle, even if you have no sympathy with my painful position-if you do not mind my mother, who will be
indescribably shocked and grieved by this accident, you
ought at least to think of your own people at home. Think
of your sister, who will be in despair about your long
absence! Think of Ottilia, who is so warmly attached to
you, and who will be inconsolable when she hears what has
happened to you."
The mention of Ottilia's name seemed to make more impression upon Uncle Peter than all the rest.
" That is true," he said; " I had really forgotten the poor
child in my anger.  You have a good friend in that girl,
Wolfgang. She has scolded me heartily for having spoken
so harshly to you the night you came to our house; but I
was very angry, as I was very angry just now when you came




The House of Hohzenstein.        343
in at the door. I believe she would scold me again if I
refused your offer to let me leave this hole. But, by heaven,
Wolfgang, I would rather stay than go."
" I am convinced of it, uncle, and I value it all the more
highly if you go notwithstanding."
Uncle Peter seized his hat, which seemed to have suffered
in the encounter with the patrol, and pressed it resolutely low
down upon his brow, and went with Wolfgang to the door.
But suddenly he stopped and said:
"Look here, Wolfgang, this will cause you no inconvenience, I trust-this letting me leave this-black-hole, eh?"
"I think not, uncle. The men are rather fond of me, and
your name had not yet been entered in the book."
" Well then, come on! " said Uncle Peter.
Wolfgang took Uncle Peter's arm, opened the door, and
said to Sergeant Ruchel, who was walking up and down in
the passage:
" I know this gentleman; some mistake evidently."
" Yes, sir! " replied Sergeant Ruchel. "Shall I see the
gentleman out?"
" Thanks, I'll do it myself."
"Yes, sir! "
Wolfgang took Peter's arm and led him out of the guardhouse across the little court to the sentinel at the gate, who
immediately unlocked the little door by the side of the great
portal, then across the drawbridge of the citadel, down the
slope to the turnpike, and past the last sentinel.
" There, uncle! " said Wolfgang. " And now good-night! "
"Good-night! " said Uncle Peter.
Uncle Peter pretended not to see Wolfgang's hand as it
was offered to him, and went a few steps; then he came
back quickly, and said in a voice trembling with emotion:
"Give me your hand, my boy! You have more of the
Schmitz blood in your veins than I thought. And you need
not take very literally what I said in there about Chance
making of us what we make of ourselves. I dare say you
find it hard enough to do your duty. Good-night! Look
here, Wolfgang, give my love to your mother!"
Wolfgang pressed Uncle Peter's hand, unable to say a
word in reply, and returned to the citadel, lost in most melancholy thoughts.




344           The House of Hohenstein.
CHAPTER XXII.
HE found it impossible to breath the cold air of the
guard-room, with its stale odor of tobacco, after having sat a few minutes near the stove, staring at the
smouldering sticks of green wood. He lit a cigar, buttoned
up his paletot, and went out upon the high walls which rose
immediately behind the guard-house, and extended to a bastion even higher than the wall. Here he walked slowly up
and down. The night-wind was blowing, sighing, and groaning over the wide plain, stirring up the dry leaves of the
trees on the glacis and bending the tall heads of the poplartrees. On the night-sky dark clouds were drifting fast beneath the stars, which peeped through here and there so
that their changeful light only made the night appear darker.
To the left the city was sleeping peacefully at his feet, as if
it would never awake again. The dark steeples of the
churches stood up like disguised giants, and the colossus of the
cathedral overtopped them all like a prince, in this realm of
darkness. Wolfgang tried in vain to make out the outlines
of familiar objects; the longer he gazed, the more fantastic
things looked, and even the large gun on the wall began to
look like a monster crouching to make a spring at its prey.
This sad, black night, with its doleful sighs, harmonized
with Wolfgang's frame of mind. His apprehensions had
been so fully realized! And what misery he'had prepared
for himself by acting contrary to his convictions, his better
knowledge, and his conscience! And who had been benefitted by this sacrifice? Not his father, who complained as
much of his embarrassments now as before; not his mother,
who had withdrawn more and more from life, and whose
bodily suffering had grown with her mental suffering in
fearful proportions. And yet it was only'for the good of
his parents that he had assumed the heavy burden, a load
which nearly crushed his soul.  How was this to end?
Matters could not remain as they were, unless he was to be
ruined in body and soul, and yet how could he change what
seemed to be unchangeable fate?
"Chance makes of us only what we make of ourselves!"




The House of Hohenstein.          345
Wolfgang could not get rid of these words, which Uncle
Peter had spoken. He heard them in the doleful howling
of the storm, and in the shrill whistle of the night-breeze.
Silent, gruesome. night seemed to find a tongue, and to
moan and to repeat forever and ever: " Chance makes of us
only what we make of ourselves."
What had it made of Uncle Peter? A poor man, who
in his fiftieth year had to abandon all the hopes of his youth,
for which he had labored during a whole life with indefatigable energy, and to begin once more at the very point from
which he had started! And yet how rich Uncle Peter was!
Rich in the consciousness that he had never deviated a
hair's breadth from the path of uprightness! rich in the consciousness of having always wished to do what was right, and
of ever having been true to himself! How immensely rich
Uncle Peter was! How well he could afford to throw back
his sturdy head, with the short, gray hair, and to say in his
short, curt way, which made every word sound like the blow
of a hammer: "Chance makes of us what we make of ourselves."
What had Chance made of himself? The contrary of
what he wished to be-what he now more than ever wished
to be. The last few months spent in the capital, at the centre of political activity, in intercourse with Munzer and his
friends, a careful observer of all that was going on, had made
a man of the youth. He had discerned with greater clearness the aim of the colossal struggle which had begun not
only in his own country, but in Germany, and in the whole
of Europe.  He had learned to distinguish among the
masses the single groups of combatants who were the true
leaders, and with this discernment there had come to him
also a warmer love for the sacred cause of liberty and for the
brave champions who fought under her banner, and a bitterer hatred against brutal force and its willing instruments.
He had learned that the two parties were opposed to each
other like Ormudz and Ahriman, that there was no reconciliation possible between the spirit of the times and the spirit that
prevailed in the profession to which he belonged. No reconciliation! No peace! And the benevolent peacemakers,
the good-natured middle-men, were crushed in the fury of the
battle and buried in the dust I This lesson Wolfgang had




346            The House of Hohenstein.
learned from the fate of the excellent man who had met him
at his first entrance into the military profession with open
arms and friendly greeting-the fate of Major Degenfeld.
They had found it out in an instant that he was the author
of a pamphlet in which the defects of the army were laid
bare with patriotic candor. He had acknowledged at once
his authorship, and offered to prove every one of his statements by facts. But this offer was little to the taste of those
who were at once his accusers and his judges. Truth!
Proof! Subordination was what they wanted; blind subordination; swearing by the articles of war, the regulations of
the service, and the infallibility of the sovereign, the commander-in-chief! These were, in their eyes, the true qualities of a good officer; he who did not possess these, was a
bad officer, and the honor of his corps and of the whole army
required that such an officer should be placed before a
court-martial and should be cashiered on the spot. This
had been Major Degenfeld's fate a few days after Wolfgang's
return from the capital; it was a prelude to the state of
siege which was declared a few days later.
Wolfgang had been terribly excited by these occurrences;
and only the thought of his father, whom the last months
seemed to have aged by so many years; and of his mother,
whose infirm health gave rise to the gravest apprehensions,
prevented him from returning the sword to the prince who
had given it to him in his own name, and not, as it ought to
have been done, in the name of the state. Major Degenfeld himself had advised him not to leave the army, even if
it should only be for a while. "Do me that favor," he had
said. " I feel an ardent desire to fight out my own cause
alone and unaided.  Your leaving the army just now would
injure me in the eyes of many men, whose good opinion I
cannot very well forfeit for the present." Wolfgang had to
yield, although he was not convinced. Major Degenfeld
evidently could not or would not tell him all.
Thus the clouds were rising from all sides on Wolfgang's
horizon; and alas! the star, the golden star, to which he had
looked up so trustingly at Rheinfeld-the star which he had
hoped would be an everlasting light of strength and courage
for him in all the dangers of this world-this star was nearly
gone down, or perhaps it shone now only in his memory. It




The House of Hohenstein.          347
is true, the family had taken great pains to efface all traces of
the last painful scene before he left Cologne. They had written, on the finest pink paper, letter after letter to excuse the
"ludicrous misunderstanding," and to assure the " betrothed
of unutterable affection."  Wolfgang had at first accepted
these assurances with the credulity of a lover, had begged his
beautiful correspondent to let the past be forgotten, and had
then spoken of the subjects which filled his heart to overflowing, and of which he longed to speak to her who
was to be his helpmate for life. But she had never replied to this part of his letters. She had continued to send
empty, badly-written little notes, on the finest of pink paper,
till Wolfgang's credulity even was shaken by this systematic
silence, and he felt at last a despair in his heart which came
near being fatal to his faith in all he had ever believed.
Perhaps Wolfgang himself was not aware how much this
effect had been hastened by a letter he received from the
house in River streett after he had been a few weeks in Berlin,
and which he read over so often during the summer, that he
knew it at last by heart. Even now, as he stood in the dark
night on the wall of the bastion, to let the damp, cold west
wind cool his burning temples, he thought of that letter
again and again:
"Dear Wolfgang!-Aunty asks me to write you that
she still loves you as of old, and that she hopes you will,
for the sake of that love, pardon her incivility on that unfortunate evening before your departure.  I do not think
you will find it hard to grant her request, for you know as
well as I do that aunty has the kindest heart in the world,
and never means any harm, even when her passionate temper carries her away. You ought to hear how she defends
you against Uncle Peter, who, I am sorry to say, does not
speak very kindly of you yet. And still I am convinced that
uncle also loves you dearly. I know it from a thousand little things, and I hear it even in his scolding. But you men
are hard to manage when you talk about your principles;
and I dare say you have to be stubborn if you want to get
along in this rough life, which gives you so much to do, and
requires all your strength. And yet I have always thought
-and I have told uncle often enough-that two good and
sensible people cannot fail meeting at the same goal, even




348            The House of Hohenstein.
if they strive to reach it by different ways. Thus I hope
confidently that you and UncIe Peter also are not quite so
far apart in your views as it sometimes seems, only you
ought not always to be so impatient at once and so violent;
then you would understand each other much better. I see
that every day in aunty and uncle, who do not seem to
agree in their views on anything, and who still, in truth, always want the same thing. I have seen your mother several
times. She is so kind and sweet, and we often speak of
you."
It occurred to Wolfgang that from another part of the
wall he would be able to look down upon that part of town
in which River street was. He went there. The sky had
cleared up a little; and by the light of the stars, one could,
after a fashion, recognize the long lines of houses, in which
here and there a dim light was seen, a night-lamp perhaps
by the side of a sick-bed. And as he stood there looking
down, a feeling seized him like home-'sickness for the old
house in River street, in the dilapidated rooms of which he
dreamt away and played away the happiest years of his
boyhood, and which had ever appeared to him in the light
of an asylum from the storms of life. He felt a longing
after the good people who dwelt there struggling so manfully
with misfortune, and so modest in the hour of success-after
his gray-haired, busy uncle-his kind, violent, sympathizing
Aunt Bella, and the tall, slender girl with the deep-blue,
affectionate eyes, who had met him like a fair, long-lookedfor sister, so familiar, and yet also so strange, and whom he
certainly loved as dearly as a brother loves his sister. It
appeared to him almost madness now that he had shyly
avoided the house in River street during the weeks since his
return to his native town, as if he were an exile, an outlaw,
who dared not cross the threshold of his domestic Lares.
He ought to have gone there, as his mother begged him to
do, as his own heart prompted him to do! They would
most assuredly have received him more kindly than in that
other house on Government square, where every face and
every piece of gorgeous furniture stared at him with deadening formality! Oh, that he had gone there! He would have
found there comfort and encouragement, in the fever of
repentance and doubt which was consuming him; he would




The House of Hohenstein.          349
have met his uncle to-night very differently; he could have
heard him say with comparatively quiet conscience: " Chance
makes of us only what we make of ourselves."
Thus the thoughts floated through Wolfgang's soul as the
clouds were racing and raging high up in the heavens
through the night-sky.
The long-drawn "Guard!" of the sentinel aroused him
from his reveries, and reminded him of his easy duties,
which still weighed on him like unbearable burdens.
"Relief! Forward, march!-"
" When will that hour come, which will restore me to myself; the hour of relief from this.wretched'yoke?"
" Not until I call it forth myself,'Chance makes of us only
what we make of ourselves.' "
CHAPTER XXIII.
T    HE Baroness Antonia Hohenstein had arrived a few
days ago at her chateau, Rheineck, and after having
cursorily inspected the arrangements ordered in her
letters, she had expressed her satisfaction. The hall was
suitably filled with exotics from the green-houses; the rooms
were well aired and warmed; the covers had been removed
from the furniture, and busts and statues well dusted. " It is
all just as I wished, dear Vettel; quite as I wished, dear
Mrs. Vettel!"  The last words were addressed to Mrs.
Vettel, who was by no means rejoiced at them. For she
and her husband had hoped for warmer praise, and were,
therefore, grievously offended by the indifference which the
baroness manifested.
"If that was all," remarked Mr. Vettel, "we need not
have plagued ourselves quite so much!"
"You are right," said Mrs. Vettel, a fat, good-natured
woman; " but the baroness does not look half as well and
as bright as she did last spring. She must be sick, and you
know we ought to make some allowance for that."
" Pshaw!" said Mr. Vettel.  "Great people never are
sick. That happens only to us poor people."




350            The House of Hohenstein.
However it might be with Antonia's health, her less fresh
and hearty appearance was certainly not easily overlooked;
and if bad humor was a symptom of sickness, Antonia's
state of health also could not be very good. She rarely left
her room; and when Mrs. Vettel-Antonia did not allow any
other female servant enter her room-appeared upon being
summoned by her bell, she found her invariably sitting or
lying in. a chaise longue, and always with the same haggard
look in her beautiful features. Only once Mrs. Vettel had
dared ask the baroness if anything was the matter, and the
baroness had answered in a very ungracious tone:
"I am tired."
Mrs. Vettel was almost glad when the day came on which
the gentlemen were to arrive. Now the baroness would no
longer be tired. Some of the gentlemen would probably
stay several days, and that would furnish amusement for a
time. Mr. Vettel, who had taken some letters to town a
few days ago, even hinted that he knew also who the gentlemen were, but he would not enter any further into the interesting subject, prone as he generally was to talk without the
slightest restraint.
The company was expected at dinner; but at ten o'clock
already a close carriage arrived from town. A tall gentleman, with his cloak nearly covering his face, jumped out and
entered the house. The carriage left immediately.
A few minutes later the gentleman and Antonia were sitting opposite each other in the reception-room. The lady
on the sofa, the gentleman in an arm-chair. The expression
in their faces, however, was by no means one of particular
pleasure or even of social courtesy. On the contrary, both
looked dark and dismal. They had hardly said a word to
each other, and yet they looked as if they had had a very
unprofitable conversation.
"You look tired, Antonia," said Munzer.
" I am tired!" replied Antonia, raising her beautiful eyes
to the ceiling.
"Then you will not stay long in the country? "
"I thought you knew it was not for my pleasure that I
had come to the country in mid-winter?"
" Certainly, and our party will give you all the more credit for
your sacrifice; but I think-and I believe our conference to



The House of Hohenstein.          351
day will make the others come over to my opinion-we shall
either soon go to work or leave it altogether undone. As
your stay here is only useful in so far as it gives us a safe
place for our meetings, it will not be necessary after either
resolution has been agreed upon. Don't you think so?"
"Why do you treat me so formally to-day?"
Munzer's face showed a melancholy smile.
"Pardon me if I do so; but you know when politics are
on my mind I am apt to forget everything else."
"When politics are on your mind?'Is there ever anything else on your mind?"
"And that subject has lost its charms for you-if it ever
had any?"
" I cannot deny, Munzer, or rather I will not deny: I am
heartily tired hearing nothing but Revolution and Reaction discussed. I am tired of your eternal Parliament and
Provisional Government, Socialism and Communism, Camarilla, Absolutism, and whatever else your catchwords are;
especially as I do not see that all this talking leads to anything."
" You will do me the justice to say, I hope, that it is not
my fault if we are not further advanced! "
"Oh yes! But does that alter the case? Does it not
prove only what I have always said, that you sacrifice yourself for people who do not care for your sacrifice, who do
not want to be saved. I confess I once was quite enthusiastic for your ideas, but I am not capable of being so permanently for mere ideas, of hanging all the time in the air,
and never putting foot on solid ground."
" Pardon me, Antonia; you wrong the poor ideas. They
may be such as can never be entirely realized on earth, but
he who works for them must not mind a few years more or
less, for he knows that ideas are immortal, as humanity is
immortal."
" But I am not immortal, and I want to enjoy life," said
Antonia, impatiently; "and besides, you contradict yourself
with your theory of immortality.  Who is it who always
urges to action? Who is beside himself that there is no
action? Who threatens all the time to forsake these dull
blockheads-whom nothing can set on fire? Why do you talk to
me of immortal ideas, in which you do not believe yourself?"




352            The Htouse of Iohenstein.
"I fear, Antonia, we no longer understand each other."
" Or we have never done so."
"Then, of course, it would be ridiculous to try at the
eleventh hour to understand each other."
Munzer rose and walked up to the fire, in which only here
and there a few coals were still glowing. It might have
been a fine brilliant fire when the flames seized at first upon
the dry wood, but the red flames had vanished, and the wood
was consumed; the warmth spread over infinite space, and
after a few hours one would hold the chilled hands over the
gray ashes, and withdraw them again, chilled as they were
before.
A hand was laid lightly on his shoulder. He turned
round and tried to reply to Antonia's inquiring glance with
a smile, but the smile died in the effort. He sank back in
a chair, and hid his face in his hands.
Antonia knelt down by him and gently drew his hands
from his face.
" No, let me kneel here, Bernhard! I have offended you
grievously and can make amends only on my knees. But
you ought to be just, too. How can I help it, that I have
no mind and no heart for your theories about rendering mankind happy-that I have no sympathy with the multitude, and
can live only for one, for you? I thought you could be
happy only in great political circles, and therefore I entered
into that life; but since I see that this hateful life of politics
makes you no happier, I hate it more than ever. If it were
to bring you honor and power-if I could see you president of
the republic-as I saw you in my dreams the night after your
great speech-that would not be much, but it would be something. I have long sought a substitute for love in wealth;
perhaps power might replace for you that love which you are
forever seeking and never finding-not even with me. Yes,
Bernhard, not even with me! You have not been happier in
my company than-you would have been in company with any
other woman; than you have been in the arms of your wife..
I am even persuaded I have been a burden to you for some
time. You shake your head? Well then, prove to me that
you love me! Leave these wretched politics, this political
misere, which will never come to anything! Be entirely mine,
as I am entirely yours. Come with me to Italy! No, not to




The House of Hohenstein.         353
Italy-for there things are even worse than with us. To the
East, to the coast of Syria, of which I read to-day in Lamartine-where nature is divinely beautiful, and we can forget
under palm-trees and cedars this horrible land and these
dreadful politics! "
" And my children?" said Munzer, "what is to become
of them?"
Antonia let Munzer's hands drop, and rose.
"I forgot once more that-you are married," she said,
coldly; "why do you not take your children? They are
yours!"
" They are a thousand times more their mother's. I cannot take the children from their mother."
"Then you had better take them all back, mother and
children, if you cannot and will not set yourself free."
"I have indeed the intention to do so."
"And you came so early to tell me this?"
" I meant to tell you so, but not in the way I tell you
now. 
" But you meant to tell me? The "how" does not matter much. Let us go out a little while; it is so sad and tiresome in the dark rooms. Let me ring the bell!-when do
you think the other gentlemen will come? I am glad Degenfeld is coming; he really looks very elegant, and yet
manly. I believe he is a man who knows perfectly well what
he is about, although circumstances have placed him in a
false position. Ah! here you are, dear Vettel! Please
bring me my hat and my shawl!-Ah yes!-There they are!
I had quite forgotten!-Thanks!-Are you ready? Yes?Well, that is nice. We'll be back in half an hour, Vettel!
We are just going in the park, if anybody should come  "
"I do not think you want my company," said Munzer,
after they had been silently walking up and down a few minutes in the park avenue, which extended from immediately
behind the house down to the park; "and I presume I had
better return home under some pretext or other."
" Or perhaps you had better still go at once down to the
village! There is the road; in half an hour you can be at
the parsonage."
" I shall not go there; but I shall also not be your guest
any longer. Farewell, Antonia!"




354            ihe House of Hohenstein.
Munzer paused. Antonia went a few steps further; then
she turned abruptly round, came back to Munzer, and said:
"Then I am nothing to you any more; or rather, I never
have been anything to you? Speak out boldly for once! I
have sent off lovers enough; I should like to know how it
feels to be sent off!"
Her cheeks were glowing and her eyes in flames. She was
fairer than Munzer had ever seen her; and although the
charm with which that beauty had once entranced him had
lost much of its power, it was still quite powerful enough
yet to make his heart beat higher.
"Which of us is sent off? " he asked with a bitter smile,
as he walked by'Antonia's side further down the avenue.
" Neither of us; or, what would be infinitely worse, each of
us wants to be the one; but that only proves that there is a
discord in the relations between us, which mars all the delight we have ever been or might have been to each other.
We cannot ignore it, and the sooner we make it clear to
each other, the better for both of us. I have felt the misery
of such a want of harmony too deeply and too bitterly-elsewhere-not to know that as soon as it becomes clear and
distinct to our consciousness, it is far better to dissolve the
connection. I must speak and act, you know, as I think
and feel, or I am the most miserable of men. I told you,
when you came to Berlin, that I was not glad at your coming. A heart like yours, I said then, requires another kind
of love than that which I could give you. You answered
me by throwing yourself into the whirlpool of political life.
Your salon became the rendezvous of the leaders of our
party, and very sharp-sighted men were misled by the enthusiasm with which you seemed to enter upon our ideas and
by the eloquence of your words. But I knew you better than
they did.. I knew that in the depth of your proud heart you
had nothing but contempt for our cause, and that you could
not feel otherwise and remain true to your nature. Another
man might have been willing to accept the sacrifice you
made for the sake of his vanity, but I cannot separate the
person and the cause. If I could be satisfied with a soul
which rests proudly contented on the wealth with which
Nature had endowed it, I should kneel before you and you
only; for you know that I am irresistibly drawn to you, that




]'he House of Hohenstein.        355
your beautiful eyes reflect to my mind the glory of the heavens, and that in your arms I could dream of the blissful happiness of the gods."
Antonia had listened to Munzer's words in silence and
with downcast eyes. Now also she made no reply, as if she
still would avoid the terrible struggle in her bosom between
pride and love.
" You will tell me, perhaps, that I ask impossible thingsthat the love which binds man to woman has nothing to do
with those ideas; but what then can love be? The intoxication of nectar, but still mere intoxication-an affair for gods
or helots, which is not worth that the freeman should for such
a stake shake the pillars on which social order rests. If I
am not willing to abandon all my hopes and all my aspirations-if I am not willing to leave the world as I find it, illused, unimproved, doomed to misery forever-then I must
at least find a woman as beautiful as you are, and one in
whom the same thoughts dwell which are the very soul of
my soul.. But you look upon these thoughts as visions, at
best fair visions.  I cannot live without these visions.
Therefore, give up the man of visions, Antonia; give him
up to his dreams; take the reality which is your realm, in
which you are queen   "
"And you my slave! " cried Antonia, winding laughingly
her arms around Munzer, and pressing repeatedly her lips
upon his.
At that moment an old gentleman and a young lady
passed the iron gate, covered with ivy, which opened from
the park avenue upon the highroad. The old gentleman
had just been saying that one could see the chateau through
this gate by looking up between the noble old trees of the
avenue, and thus they had stopped to cast a glance through
the gate.  The lady turned pale and fell, as if struck by
lightning, upon her companion, who seized her around the
waist with a strength which one would not have expected
from so old a man, and drew her past the gate behind the
high park wall.
" Courage, courage, my child! " whispered the old man;
"think of your children-compose yourself! "
"I am composed," replied the lady, suddenly raising herself by a great effort; " now I am calm again. Come, uncle!"




356            The House of Hohenstein.
"I think there were people passing the gate just now,"
said Munzer, gently thrusting Antonia fr6m him.
"The fictions of your fancy, you man of visions," said
Antonia, joyously; "dream as much as you choose, and
kiss me as much as I choose, then neither of us will complain."
Suddenly a horse's hoofs were heard in the park, and immediately afterwards a horseman appeared in one of the side
avenues, coming up at full gallop as soon as he saw the two.
" That is Wolfgang! " said Munzer. " What can he want?
He brings evil tidings!"
Wolfgang beckoned with the hand from afar; then, when
he was quite near, he suddenly checked his horse.
"What is it?" asked Antonia and Munzer as with one
voice.
"Not much that is good," replied Wolfgang, shaking
hands with them from the saddle. " It is fortunate I found
you so soon. An hour ago a man who said his name was
Cajus, brought me a note from Degenfeld. Here it is:'Dear W.-You can trust the bearer. Consider with him
what is to be done!' This man Cajus told me that Degenfeld, in whose service he had been for some little time, had
just been arrested, that one of the policemen had whispered
into his ear that the gentleman from Frankfurth had also
been arrested at his hotel, and that Munzer would be the
next one. He added that you had driven out to Rheineck
early in the morning, and that you were to be warned, so as
not to go into the trap. How could information be sent out
to you? I offered at once to carry it myself, and Cajus consented after some little hesitation. I knew my neighbor's
bay-horse, old Moss's horse, and here I am."
Wolfgang was by their side now, and walked with them
towards the house, leading the horse by the bridle. Antonia looked anxiously'in Munzer's face; Munzer looked
thoughtfully down.
"Do you know, Wolfgang, that you have exposed yourself to considerable danger? That ride may cost you your
commission!"
"Then I should be relieved of a troublesome burden,"
said Wolfgang, smiling. "But, in good earnest, Munzer, I
do not think the danger is very great. A ride out of town




The House of Hohenstein.          357
is innocent enough, and I shall take the precaution to return
through another gate. Besides, the main point just now is
to save you from the danger which threatens you. I thought,
if you should wish to reach the railway as soon as possible,
my being with you would probably protect you against any
disagreeable encounter at the station. You will thus gain
time; you can get out at any one of the stations and take
what road you may choose."
"Why should he not stay here?" asked Antonia, laying
her arm in Munzer's arm. "You are safer here, Munzer,
than anywhere else."
"I doubt that very much, madam," said Munzer. "On
the contrary, the experience of this morning shows how
little we were justified in our presumption that we were here
at Rheineck safe from the Argus-eyes of the police. There
is no question that they had been informed by some means
or other of our meetings here, and that it was only for the
sake of greater certainty that they did not make the arrest
here. But your plan also, dear Wolfgang, is impossible.
My escape would ruin me irrevocably, and what is worse, the
others also. They would look upon it as an evidence of
guilt; imprisonment for months or years would be the sure
consequence, if I were caught; and our party, deprived
of its leader, would abandon the cause. If I return and
allow myself to be arrested, they must set us all free again
in a few days, and apologize into the bargain for their stupidity. The man from Frankfurth they cannot hold. Cologne
is not Vienna, and Count Hinkel no Windischgratz. Degenfeld has too recently joined us; he has nothing in his
hands that could compromise him; and as for myself, I have
been a long time prepared for such a case. They would
not find anything in my papers that could not be put in a
young lady's album. In a word: there is no choice here.
Wolfgang mounts his bay again, and returns as fast as he
can. The baroness orders her carriage, and sends me as
far as the town gate.  I enter there as an innocent footpassenger who has taken a walk; have a chance of speaking to Cajus and the others, and then they may come and
arrest me."
Antonia at first opposed this plan violently. She begged,
she cajoled, but Munzer remained firm, and Wolfgang could




358            The House of Hohenstein.
not help admitting that his plan was both expedient and entirely honorable. Antonia had to give way at last.
"But one condition," she said. "I must go too. I could
not stay one minute in this miserable house if I am condemned to live here alone like an owl. The doctor and I
can go together as far as my villa before the town gate.
That is less suspicious than if you get out at the gate itself.
And, less suspicious or not, I do not mean to stay here."
As Antonia could not be prevailed upon to abandon this
idea, the men had finally to yield so far.
A quarter of an hour afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Vettel followed the carriage with their eyes, as it drove off from the
door where they stood.
" Who could that gentleman in black have been who talked
so much to our baroness? " said Mrs. Vettel, thoughtfully.
" But great heavens! where are you going, Vettel, a quarter
of an hour before dinner? "
" Do you mind your business! " said Mr. Vettel, rudely.
"I never ask you why the priest always wants to know everything that is going on in the house here. Good-by! I shall
be back in half an hour! "
And Mr. Vettel took the road to the nearest village, the
bright brass steeple of which shone brightly over the leafless trees in the noonday sun.
— o —
CHAPTER XXIV.
M    UNZER'S calculations proved correct; they had set
free the gentleman from Frankfurth, Major Degenfeld, and five or six others, who had been arrested
the same morning, as their houses had been searched without result. In Munzer's house also search had been made
after treasonable papers, but nothing of any kind had been
found that could have been useful for their purposes, and so
they had concluded to leave the formidable republican for the
present undisturbed. " The cat Reaction has let us revolutionary mice run about a little longer," said Munzer on the
following day to Degenfeld, " because we are. not quite fat




The House of Iohzenstein.        359
enough yet; but if we continue to rest on our laurels, as we
are now doing, we shall soon have the necessary embonpoint.
It makes me desperate to see how our cause is daily losing
ground, while we do not stir to repel the enemy."
"What would it avail us," replied Major Degenfeld, "as
long as we are not strong enough to defeat the enemy at the
first attack? In politics success is everything. An unsuccessful attack is far worse than no attack, since it reveals to
the enemy at once our numbers and our weakness. The
government relies on the army. The army is faithful to
them, and no breach has yet been made in their ranks.
What will you do against them? Your few flint-locks, concealed here and there, are of no use. We can have no revolution that does not originate in the army, or at least find
full sympathy in the ranks."
" You speak as a soldier, Major Degenfeld, and as such I
fear you overrate the influence of your profession in a political crisis. It seems to me both improbable that the people should not lBe able to rise, relying on their own brave
hearts and strong arms alone, and that it should be possible
to revolutionize an army without passing first through the
intermediate period of imperialism. Ah, Major Degenfeld,
you do not know how I have toiled and labored, and how
hard it is to have to roll forever the rock of Sisyphus! "
" Courage, dear friend, courage! " cried Major Degenfeld;
" if you are going to hang your head, you who fight for your
wife and your children, who receive as a reward for every
cut with the sabre an affectionate smile or a bright hopewhere shall I find courage? I, lonely owl, who have no one
in this world for whom I could strive and battle? Give me
a wife to love, and I will-no! I ought not to be boastful;
I have of late seen too many gray hairs in my head! "
"A wife to love," repeated Munzer, and his eyes assumed
an unusually rigid expression, which they had of late shown
quite frequently; "to love and to be loved-well, that dream
every one of us has cherished once upon a time-and lost
again!"
" What do you mean?" asked Degenfeld, in surprise.
" I think our ideals are one thing, and life itself is another
thing, and he who can make the two harmonize is-a happy
man. Good-by."




360            The House of Hohenstein.
"I verily believe I have touched a sore point in that man's
heart," said Degenfeld to himself; "that would explain
more than one riddle in his character. I must ask Wolfgang
about it; he has known him for years."
Wolfgang had brought the two men together, soon after
his return from Berlin, which took' place almost at the same
time with that of Munzer. They had soon become friends,
as they had much in common. Both were idealists; both
had srongly-marked characters, with a legitimate pride in
their individuality and a sad want of charity for the foibles
of others, and both had suffered much in mind during the
last months. Munzer had just come home from a convention which had bitterly disappointed his most sanguine
hopes, and Degenfeld had quite recently been victimized by
the exclusive spirit of his caste. Both, therefore, were inclined to see the dark side only and to experience a feeling
akin to despair in their hopeless struggle against stupidity
and wickedness. Still, Degenfeld had thought more than
once that>,Munzer's melancholy arose in all probability from
more reasons than political disappointments.  He had
noticed this especially since Munzer's return from Rheineck, and he availed himself therefore of the first opportunity
to ask Wolfgang for some details about Munzer's private
life. Wolfgang could tell him but little. He had seen
Munzer rarely in his family; the children were pretty and
quite talkative; of Clara he could only say that she had
made a pleasing impression upon him, and that yet he had
always felt as if the quiet, modest little woman was not
likely to satisfy Munzer's expectations. As Munzer had
rigorously abstained from mentioning family matters at any
time, he had come to look upon him almost as an unmarried
man. At this moment, he added, Mrs. Munzer was staying
with her uncle, a Catholic priest, in some little village of the
neighborhood, he had forgotten the name.
Wolfgang was thinking of something else, when he thus
rather stimulated Degenfeld's curiosity, instead of satisfying it. In fact, he was at that time entirely taken up with
his own affairs.
"Will you help me? Will you advise me? " he exclaimed,
starting up from the sofa, on which he had been sitting by
Degenfeld's side, and walking up and down with impatient




The House of Hohenstein.         36I
strides.  "I cannot continue to play this miserable part.
Tell me that no man is bound to be a hypocrite, that no
one, not even those to whom we owe our life, can ask of us
more than our life, but that we are bound to preserve our
honor, our sincere convictions, under all circumstances-tell
me this, as I repeat it to myself a hundred times a day, and
I pull off this uniform, which causes me more suffering than
Hercules ever felt in the robe of Nessus."
" You are not quite yourself, dear friend," said Degenfeld.
"I fear you have made a fearful blunder at drill, or you have
been forced to play at domino with your comrades at the
confectioner's!"
" Can you amuse yourself at my expense?"
"In good earnest, dear Wolfgang! I give to all your
questions the same answer as you do yourself, and in spite
of all that I must insist upon my view, that you would do
better to continue a little while longer at your post. You
must not reject the chances that may offer. Your father has
not yet been-relieved from his embarrassment; he told me
so only yesterday; your mother, an angel of a woman, is
sick, and requires more consideration than ever; your granduncle cannot live forever, and-I confess I should not like
to see the immense fortune in the hands of your relatives.
And then-the main point in my eyes-you owe it to your
party not to abandon the power in your hands; you may become of far greater importance to us, dear Wolfgang, than
you dream of in your philosophy."
"And you are really in earnest?"
" Really! Napoleon was, at your age, nothing but a simple lieutenant."
" But he was Napoleon."
"We want no Napoleon. We want a man with some
military genius, which the Corsican had, no doubt, and with
the holy enthusiasm for liberty, which he had not. Who
tells you that you are not that man? Have you no talent?
I tell you, you have talent, for you have a quick eye, a ready
judgment, and a physical courage which is not the fool-hardiness that seeks danger for danger's sake, and those are the
elements of military greatness. And as to your youth: we
live fast in days like these, and then I am by no means of
Munzer's opinion, that the crisis is likely to come to-day or
16




362            The House of Hohenstein.
to-morrow. You are playing now a sorry part, you say; I
grant it is so; but then, it is only a part. What I expect
you to do hereafter will not be a part, but reality: you are
to be the liberator of your country, the hero who slays the
dragon by whom the princess Liberty is held captive-no,
not slays, but forces him to serve the princess. Wolfgang,
have you no ambition? Or is the goal which I show you,
not worth living for?"
" But-pardon my question!-why do you not strive for
it yourself? Or rather, why did you give up the favorable
position you occupied-the chances that were offered to
you?"
" Because-well, my young friend, I can tell you-because
I did not feel in me the strength to undertake so great a
task. I felt that I could only prepare the way for another.
I know I have touched many a hardened heart; I have
cast a ray of light into many a mind that was not yet hopelessly dark; I have done my duty!"
A brighter light had shone in Degenfeld's large, soft eyes,
as he said these words; but now a shadow fell upon his
expressive face, and his voice trembled as he added:
" But I do not mean to deny that I found it hard to make
the sacrifice. I felt more than once disgusted with the
vulgarity of those who persecuted me. I was more than
once on the point of meeting my adversaries with arms in
my hand. So far, I have been able to master my foolish
impulses, and I hope to do so hereafter; but let us speak
of something else. I have a commission for you from our
party."
"At last! " said Wolfgang. "It has pained me not a
little that they felt no more confidence in me."
" You ought to be grateful for that, dear Wolfgang. They
do not doubt your good-will, nor your intelligence, nor your
couirage; but they did not wish-at my special request-to
put you into the false position of being entrusted with
secrets which might be extorted from you by your superiors
upon your word of honor. When the time for action comes,
all that will be changed in an instant;-but at present the
question is only one of diplomacy."
" And what is it? "
" You know that since the People's Journal has ceased to




The House of Hohenstein.          363
appear, and ever since he went to Berlin, Munzer has fallen
out with your uncle, Peter Schmitz, with Doctor Holm, and
that whole party. I consider this, as matters stand, a great
misfortune; the party must be united, or we are irrevocably
lost. I have seen that from the beginning, and endeavored to
restore the entente cordiale, but so far without success. Munzer is obstinate and self-willed; your uncle Schmitz seems,
from all I can learn, to be a man of the same calibre. This
peculiarity divides them more than their political differences,
which are, after all, only trifling. Nevertheless it has come
about that we are out of all connection now with those men
and the large party which they control. There it is that
we expect you to help us. We want you to inform us of the
state of things in River street. You can, of course, act quite
openly; there is no call for finesse. Will you do us the
favor?"
"With all my heart," replied' Wolfgang; "I intended to
pay my uncle a visit to-day. At last! Since our encounter
at the guard-house four weeks have slipped by! You see
what an energetic man I am."
" Do you already begin scolding yourself, lieutenant? " said
Degenfeld, smiling, as he accompanied Wolfgang to the door.
"You ought to leave that to us ex-majors; we have more
cause for it. Good-by."
CHAPTER         XXV.
NCE more the printing presses in the rear part of the
house in River street were still and silent; there was
little prospect, even, that they would ever become
active again. The printing-room, which in spring had been
crowded with bearded faces, was empty; and the goodnatured face of Wensel Muller, the foreman, appeared no
longer at the little window in the door, for the editor's room
also was empty and deserted. The parrots on the hangings,
pecking with their weather-worn beaks at mouldy fruit,
looked more melancholy than ever; the broad-sheet with




364            The House of Hohenstein.
the funny story of the man who went cat-hunting at night,
had been torn from the wall by the devil before he left the
room for good; and only a small fragment, with the motto,
"Blind zeal is hurtful!" was still hanging there, as if in
bitter mockery at the perfect stillness in the once busy
rooms.
But the mockery would have been gratuitous, for it was
not blind zeal which had silenced the People's Journal. The
paper had been the zealous servant of the revolution, and had
of course to leave as soon as the revolution was no longer
able or willing to pay for its services. Its.life might have
been prolonged had it been willing to wear the livery of another mistress, but the faithful servant had too much selfrespect to become a turn-coat and change its convictions.
He struggled bravely. Through the whole summer and the
whole autumn it carried on a brave struggle for life, and then
died gallantly under its old flag. The sign to the left of the
front door, on which the words "Office of the People's
Journal" had been shining in hopeful golden letters, was
taken down, and Peter Schmitz was ruined.
Peter Schmitz had foreseen this long since. In order to
be entirely independent in the management of his paper, and
to be able to preserve it for his party, he had gradually purchased all the shares, the owners of which were but too glad
to escape so cheaply. He had then seen these costly shares
fall and fall, and had invested more and more, till at last
the paper had to die. Then only he had closed his books
with a sad heart-and yet also with a feeling of relief, that
Fate had at last taken from him this burden, which became
daily more difficult to bear. It had not only been the impending ruin which had made him dislike the paper of late;
but almost more than that, the sad necessity in which the
paper found itself, of making opposition to its former chiefeditor, Deputy Bernhard Munzer, and the extreme radicals,
whose leader he had become in the convention. Nothing
pained good Mr. Schmitz more than this fact, for Munzer
had been the friend of his heart; he loved him still as he
had probably loved no one on earth except his sister Margaret and his Ottilia. And yet he'had been compelled to
abandon him politically, and at last to contend with him,
step by step, for Peter Schmitz placed the common weal




The House of Hohenstein.          365
above the most intimate personal friendship, and to his best
knowledge and his conscience Bernhard Munzer seemed now
an enemy of the welfare of his country, and all the more
dangerous as he possessed great talents, fiery energy, and an
almost irresistible charm in his eloquence and his personal
influence.
Perhaps Peter Schmitz would not have been able to carry
out this contest, which made his heart bleed, in spite of his
great energy, if Dr. Holm had not faithfully stood by his side.
Holm was in precisely the same position as Schmitz, if not
worse off, since he alone was held responsible for this disgraceful dissension in his capacity as Munzer's successor as the new
chief-editor of the People's Journal. The papers in Munzer's interest accused him of ambition, of envy, of unfairness
-and yet no man's heart was probably freer from such passions than that of Dr. Holm. He had lost in Munzer not
only a friend, to whom he was most tenderly attached, but
also an ideal, to which he had ever looked up with unbounded admiration.  He had so often praised Munzer's
articles before his friends as models of their kind in form
and thought! He had been carried away by Munzer's eloquence, and emphatically compared him to Demosthenes
and Cicero! No, Doctor Holm certainly did not enjoy appearing publicly against his former colleague; and those who
had any delicacy of perception might have read the touching grief of the man, whom duty forced to do such cruel
work, between the lines which he wrote against Munzer.
But though the sign over the basement windows had disappeared, and no gigantic hands in the great hall pointed
any more up the narrow staircase, and down the creaking
galleries, "To the editors' office! " Doctor Holm was seen
as regularly as ever going in and out at the old house in
River street. This was, of course, no surprise to those who
knew (as, for instance, every dweller in River street with
scarcely perceptible exceptions) that Doctor Holm had not
only taken lodgings in two back rooms of the Schmitz mansion, but was regularly boarding with Aunt Bella.
The fact in itself was ordinary enough, and yet it created
a great sensation in all circles where Doctor Holm's former
manner of life was known; and there were not a few such circles, as Doctor Holm's life had for more than twenty-five years




366            The House of Hohenstein.
been a public one in most respects. It was known that
Doctor Holm, without being a gourmand, loved a good table; that as a man of acknowledged good taste, he loved to
live in large, well-lighted rooms, in which he could arrange
his small but valuable Art collection to advantage; and that
he had for more than twenty-five years strictly obeyed these
two principles: to live well and to be lodged comfortably.
Now it seemed to be contrary to common sense, and especially to the enlightened good sense of Doctor Holm, that
a man of such elegant tastes should all of a sudden assume
the cross of a very ordinary table, if not a downright bad
one, in company of an eccentric, ruined printer, and a capricious old maid! No one presumed to think that he could
ever have preferred such fare and such society of his own
accord. On the contrary, they all agreed that Doctor Holm
must have suffered serious losses by the failure of the People's Journal, and that his disappearance from his accustomed haunts and his retirement to the mysterious shades
of the house in River street, was simply a consequence of
this financial calamity.
No one believed this more firmly than Aunt Bella. No
one pitied the good man more than she did, on account of
the many comforts he had to deny himself. When Doctor
Holm had proposed to her one evening to take him as a
lodger and a boarder, she had agreed to it with delight. She
was proud of helping her friend in his hour of need, and of
saving him half of his usual expenses.
If Aunt Bella had been a less honest person, she might
have had her suspicions aroused by the condition Doctor
Holm added to their contract, that she should tell none of
the details either to her brother Peter or to anybody else.
"Schmitz does not understand anything about such matters," Holm had said, " and so it is better he should know
nothing of our arrangements. He might think I was paying too dear for my rooms; but I like them, and I am sure
I have formerly given twice as much for rooms that were no
better. Or he might think I paid too high board, and you
say yourself you could do it cheaper; but it would look to
me like abject poverty if I could not at least afford paying
so much for my meals, and so you may just as well indulge
me in my illusion, even if you should by chance find a little




The SHouse of Hohenstein.         367
left over at the end of the month. If you sum it all up, I
do not know but you may, after all, lose by the bargain. I
shall be convinced that, if anything is amiss, I at least am
not the sufferer."
Aunt Bella had never in her life told a falsehood, and believed Doctor Holm implicitly; she was even slightly amazed
at this glimpse of bachelor life, which she had always imagined as very expensive, but never as such a perfect "robbery" as it appeared to her now from Doctor Holm's statistics. How the good lady would have been amazed if she
could have found out the deception by which she was victimized! Her protge's living often cost him less, but never
more than it now did in River street; and the whole was, of
course, nothing but a pretext to assist Peter Schmitz in his
embarrassment, in this harmless and yet very effective manner! Aunt Bella, if she had ever discovered it, would no
doubt have despaired of all that was sacred. She might
actually have begun to doubt whether the escutcheon over
the front dowr was truly and really the coat-of-arms of the
Schmitz family.
And yet this faith in the former patrician splendor of her
family was more than ever needed to uphold the poor lady,
now that their star was sunk so very low. Thirty years ago,
when her father, Anthon Schmitz, had fastened a sign with
the words: "Writing Materials, etc., by Anthon Schmitz,"
over the windows of the basement, a small, curly-headed
youth had stood by and said to himself: "That must come
down again, or my name is not Peter Schmitz! " Now, the
curly-headed youth was a gray-haired old man, and there was
no one standing by him who in the full vigor of his youth
could predict a better future!
It is true, Peter Schmitz was even now a man of more
energy than his father had ever been in his life. Nor would
he ever admit that their sad situation was more than a passing calamity. " We have let out all our steam, and must put
up steam again before we can go on," he said; or, "Pshaw!
what is it, after all? Have you ever seen a beetle lying on
its back? Give him a hair that he can take hold of, and the
fellow is on his legs again, before you are aware of it, and
runs away, ever so fast." But these brave words and the
pluck he still possessed did not keep the wrinkles from grow



368            The House of/ Hohenstein.
ing deeper and the bushy eye-brows from nearly meeting on his
forehead! Formerly he had never spoken of the old times;
now he often reverted to his strange old father, and to his
troubles about the receipts for his ink, and to the miserable
ink itself which he had made; and above all, he spoke much
of Margaret, not as she was now, worn out by disease, but
of her whom he had loved so immensely, the wondrously
beautiful girl with the soft dark eyes, who had made such a
sad return for his love. It was especially with Ottilia that
he loved to speak of those days. "It is all again as it was
then," he used to say; "the wheel has turned round, and
here we are at the old place. An eccentric old man and a
hearty love of a girl-only I want a boy for the girl, on whom
I could vent my spleen. I wish I had such a boy! Formerly I thought Wolfgang might become such a one, if his
father should die, as I expected he would, and his mother
should be left alone in the world with the child. But now
the boy has become a great man-an officer, as his father
was before him, only that he is clever enough to look for a
wife among' his own folks, and to eke out his miserable lieutenant's pay with the inheritance of the old man at Rheinfeld. To be sure, that the father would have accepted as
readily, and his m6salliance he has long since bitterly regretted. The devil take all these Hohensteins! They have
been the curse of my life! "
"But, dearest uncle," said Ottilia; " how unjust and how
violent you are again! Did you not tell me yourself that
Wolfgang had behaved very well towards you the other day?
Have you forgotten that?"
" Oh, pshaw! " said Uncle Peter, angrily; " I did not forget it; but he has-forgotten it, or he would have looked in
some day during these four weeks, to ask:'How are you,
uncle? No bad consequences I hope?' or some such question. He might have done that in spite of his lieutenant's
uniform. I liked the boy so well! It makes me furious to
think that he too is going to be such a-quiet, Peter, quiet!
There I sit and talk, and have ever so much to do! Goodby, girl! In an hour I'll be back. Then you must play and
sing a little for me  You hear? Good-by, child!"




The House of Hohenstein.         369
CHAPTER       XXVI.
U   NCLE PETER left the room; Ottilia remained sitting
in the bay-window, and looked through the ivy-screen
down upon the street, where evening began already
to cast dark shadows. Although it was only the end of February, a soft breath like the breath of spring was already
perceptible in the air; the saffron-colored sky looked almost
summerly, and shone quite brightly over the pointed gableends of the houses on the other side of the street. It was
very quiet in the street; only now and then the joyous cries
of children at their play broke the silence. The young girl
thought of the lines of the poet, which she loved to hum to
herself:
" Cheer up, my heart, be not afraid!
For all will change, all will be right!"
"What isto change?" she said, smiling to herself. "Am
I not happier than I thought I could ever be again after poor
papa's death?  To be sure, poor uncle! He has a hard
time; and it is bad enough that I must be an additional
burden to him. But what can I do? If I only allude to my
wish to support myself by going into the world to work, he
becomes so angry I dare not speak of it again! I must see
how I can make myself useful here in the house!
"Well, that is one thing that would change. But what
else could change? What is that'All' of which the verses
speak-that'all' which is to be changed by the mild spring
air, that works and weaves in God's nature. What is it?
Where is it? Does it bloom afar off in secret valleys? Does
it bloom in the depths of my own heart?
" Ah! It must be there! why else should my heart beat
so? What do you want, poor beating heart?
" What do you want?"
" Love! "
"And do you not love? Don't you love that excellent
man with the curly gray hair, and the severe eyes, which
smile so sweetly whenever they glance at you? Don't you
love dear, good aunty, who cares for her own with indefatigable tenderness? Don't you love that sweet pale lady in
i6*




370            The House of Hohenstein.
Convent street, as you would have loved your own mother
if she had not died so early? And do they not all love you
far more than you deserve? What more do you want, restless heart?"
" Love!"
"Love? What love?"
"Love for a heart as young and as restless as my own;
restless and yet strong-stronger than your own, which
trembles at every breath; for a heart that beats in the bosom
of a man!"
"Of a man! And how must he look whom you would
love?-love with your whole heart, with your whole soulto whom you could devote your life, every hour of your life,
every beat of your heart, every thought of your soul? How
must he be? "
" Clever and good. Clever, that I may respect him; and
good, that I may not be afraid of him. Proud, bright eyes
he ought to have, and a soft voice-like Wolfgang."
"Like Wolfgang?"
" If Wolfgang were my brother, I should have one person
more to love, and he would love me too. Then he would
not be so cruel as to be a whole month in town without coming to see his sister once. Then he would come every day,
and I could talk to him about everything-about my music,
about-ah! so many things I should like to know, and cannot talk of with uncle and aunty! What a life that would
be f Like a sunny spring morning! And then we could
take long walks together. Last summer, when we went into
the mountains, I used to long for him. How glorious it
must be to have somebody in whom you feel perfect confidence, to climb about with him all over the mountains, to
rest on his strong arm, and-to look down from the summit
upon the green forests and the smiling valleys and the bright
river! Ah! if he were only my brother."
"But would he love me then in the way I love him?
Would he not love another girl more, and at last marry her
and leave me alone again? And would not I be poorer then
than I was before? And then I could not marry if I loved
a brother, such a brother as Wolfgang, really with all my
heart. I would do as poor Uncle Peter does, who still mourns
every day of his life for his lost sister Margaret. Poor Aunt




The House of Hohenstein.          371
Margaret! How long it is since I saw you! But it is really
very wrong in Wolfgang that he does not come to see us!
How could I summon courage to go there? Who knows
how he thinks about me now? He did not even answer my
letter! To be sure, it did not require an answer, but a few
lines he might have written; it is so quickly done, and it
would have given me such pleasure. No doubt he wrote
often enough to his betrothed! "
"His betrothed! I wonder how she looks?  They say
she is very beautiful, and certainly she must be very clever
too. Of course he would rather go there than come here.
I wonder if she loves him very dearly? She is so rich and
such a great lady, and has such an abundance of everything,
and her whole life is one continuous holiday, I can hardly
think how she can really love anybody very dearly. I wonder
if she has her lonely, sad hours, as I have? It seems to me,
she could not know what it is to be loved as one would like
to be loved, if she had not her hours of sadness too."
Ottilia rested her head on her hands and looked up the
street with that dreamy look which sees objects without
perceiving them. Wolfgang was coming down the street
just then, not in a dark coat as she had seen him last,
but in his uniform, walking very rapidly and looking from
afar already at the bay-window.
Ottilia rubbed her eyes to make sure that she was awake,
but the scene was the same, only more distinct. "Is it possible? Wolfgang?  And I am here quite alone? He will
not come up though, I dare say!"
The young girl rose hastily from her seat and stepped
from the window to the middle of the room. There she
stood with beating heart, listening to hear if a step was
coming up the stairs.
"No! He has gone by! God be thanked! But still, it
is not handsome in him! He might have come for a
moment."
And the staircase creaked, and a rapid step was heard on
the gallery, and then a knock at the door.
" Come in! " Ottilia was going to say, but she could not
utter the word, and another knock came. "Come in!"
This time she succeeded-at least the chairs in the room
might have heard it if they had had ears. Ottilia did not




372            The House of Hohenstein.
wait for another knock, but advanced a few steps towards
the door, and said a third time-quite bravely now-" Come
in!"
"Good evening! Good evening, cousin! " said Wolfgang,
hastily approaching her and shaking hands. "Are you
quite alone?" he asked then, glancing around in the halfdark room.
"Uncle is gone out, but he'll be back soon. Aunty, I
think, is in the kitchen. I'll call her!"
" No, no! Never mind her! I am very glad I can see
you for a moment alone, before uncle comes in."
" Shall I light the lamp?"
"Why? It is quite light yet! Let us sit down in the
window. There! First of all, much love from mamma; she
asks why you never come to see her now? "
"How is Aunt Margaret?" said Ottilia, evasively.
"A little better to-day, but she has been quite sick during
the last week. She is so anxious to get out into the fresh
air; I wish spring would come."
" So doT! " said Ottilia. " I was just thinking of it. It
is nearly a year now since I came to town. How long it
is! "
Wolfgang's eyes rested on the slender form of the girl, as
she sat with her face half turned away from him. He noticed, for the first time, how beautiful the outlines of her
head, and how gracefully the brown curls fell in rich abundance
around the well-shaped neck, flowing in rich waves down
upon the round-sloping shoulders.
"And I have seen you only twice during that wholetime! " he said.
" But you have been away for nine months. No wonder! "
"I might have come oftener."
"You ought to make up for it now."
"Can we make up for lost time? " said Wolfgang. "A
lost day is lost for all eternity. I often think of that with
heavy heart."
"All will change," said Ottilia.
"Do you think so? "
"There is aunty coming! " cried Ottilia, rising quickly
and going to meet Aunt Bella, who entered the room with a
large flat basket, in which she kept her embroidery.




The House of Hohenstein.         373
"What is it?" asked Aunt Bella, in a sharp voice.
Aunt Bella's voice was always sharp, as long as she was
face to face to something unknown, whether it was a thing
or a person; for she acted upon the orders given to watchful outposts, to consider everything that came in sight as
an " enemy," and to treat it accordingly, till it had proved
itself to be a " friend." She had noticed the outlines of a
man in uniform near the window. The man in uniform was
either a policeman or a tax-gatherer.
" It is I, Aunt Bella," said Wolfgang, coming out of the
bay-window.
Aunt Bella uttered a cry and dropped the work-basket.
" Did not I say so?" she cried. "I dreamt you were
coming to-day!"
As the excited tone in which Aunt Bella said these words
by no means indicated whether the dream was in her estimation a good or a bad one, Wolfgang considered it the best
policy to say at once:
" I am ready to go, aunt, if my presence is unpleasant to
you."
"Ah!" said Aunt Bella, "you are going again? Why
did you come if you meant to go so soon? You  "
"Good-by, dear aunt! " said Wolfgang, in a friendly but
decided tone.
Wolfgang had to pass Aunt Bella in order to get to the
door.
"Wolfgang! " exclaimed the old lady, when he was quite
near her.
Her love had triumphed.over her resentment. With
stormy cordiality she threw herself into Wolfgang's arms,
kissed him amid hot tears, and sobbed: "Don't be angry,
Wolfgang! I love you dearly, dearly, and cannot bear to
see you turn away from us! "
"Dear aunt    "
"Yes, I know all is not dead in your heart yet, and you
were very kind to my brother the other day! You dear,
good boy! Did I not tell you, Ottilia? "
But Ottilia had quietly slipped away when she saw that the
meeting between Wolfgang and her aunt took a happy turn,
and Aunt Bella profited by the opportunity to take Wolfgang
into her confidence. She drew him down by her on the




374            T/e House of Hohenstein.
sofa, and repeated to him, amid occasional showers of tears,
the whole history of the Schmitz family since Ottilia's arrival last spring-a mournful story, which appeared doubly sad
in Aunt Bella's melancholy mirror.
" And now, just think, Wolfgang," she said, concluding
her eloquent account, " what is to become of us if brother
should suddenly die? He says, to be sure, he does not
mean to die yet, but such godless speeches are the very
thing to bring it about. As if all the Schmitzes, as long as
the family has been in existence, had not died suddenly!
Our grandfather was perfectly well and stone dead within
twenty-four hours; our father smoked his pipe on the morning
of the day on which he died; Brother Eugene-I cannot think
of that. And so Brother Peter also will be carried off before
we are aware of it. And what will become of us, Wolfgang?
I am sure he is even now thinking of some great enterprise;
then come the creditors; the inventory is sold, the furniture
is sold, the house is sold, and Ottilia and I will have to beg
for breads! I won't survive the misery long, I know; but
the poor dear child, who has no one on earth-no father and
no mother, no uncle and no aunt, no brothers nor sisters!
I often awake at night with horror when I see her in my
dreams walking barefooted on the highroad, and could cry
myself dead with grief and sorrow.  Ah! Wolfgang, the
man who would relieve me of that anxiety, I could worship
like a saint!"
"But, dear aunt," said Wolfgang, "are you not troubling
yourself unnecessarily? Uncle is as active as I ever saw
him; and even if your evil prophecy should come true, am I
not there?-or do you really give me up so completely that
you think I could abandon you in your misfortune? "
Aunt Bella dried her tears, which had been flowing
copiously during the latter part of her speech, and said:
" No, Wolfgang, I do not think so badly of you, nor do I
doubt your good-will; but you will not be able to do as you
choose. Your father's relations will not permit you to take
care of us; and when you are married, do you think your
wife will let you look upon Ottilia as upon a sister? You
know the Hohensteins-well, Wolfgang, you need not be
angry, but what we cannot comprehend remains a mystery
to us forever, like the Chinese wall-and thus I cannot get




The House of Hohenstein.         375
reconciled to your engagement, and never shall be, were I as
old as Methuselah. You see, Wolfgang-I mean to deal
candidly with you-this marriage is no happiness for you 
you will see it yourself one of these days. I do not know
your betrothed; I will admit that she is neither false, nor
cold, nor vain; that she is as good as a girl can be who has
grown up amid such surroundings. But, Wolfgang, that is not
enough for yov. I know you from your childhood, and know
what an affectionate heart you have, and that you have a
Schmitz heart, although your father may be ten times a
Hohenstein, and a Schmitz heart is not content with
ordinary love. It wants more, I tell you; it wants more; it
wants to be loved altogether and for evermore; and when it
finds that it does not get such love, it breaks, Wolfgang.
And if it does not break, it is so miserably wretched that
death would be a hundred thousand times better than life.
I could tell you a story about that, Wolfgang, how a Schmitz
heart feels if it is not loved as it wants to be loved; and if
you are npt willing to believe me, you can ask your old
uncle, who has become an old bachelor because he took it
into his head that he must live for his sister, to make her
rich and happy! Or, Wolfgang, ask your mother if she has
been happy since she left the house in River street, or if
her whole life has not been one unbroken home-sickness? "
Aunt Bella paused, and Wolfgang found no reply to words
which sounded as if they had come from his own heart. It
was almost dark in the room; the old hall-clock was ticking
monotonously and as soberly as when Wolfgang had played,
a little child, here and on the gallery, and had listened to its
solemn tic-tac from his hiding-place under the table-cover.
He felt as if the old times had come back again; as if all
he had experienced since, had only been a dream; as if he
could live his whole life over once more in the spirit of
truth and love, which had ever breathed upon him in these
rooms.
" An angel flying through the room!" said Aunt Bella.
A light fell through the open door which led to Aunt
Bella's room, and immediately afterwards Ottilia stood on
the threshold, with a lamp in her hand.
"Don't you want light?" she asked.' You? " asked Aunt Bella, passing her handkerchief over




376            The House of Hohenstein.
her eyes; " will you have no light? Really it is quite dark
here, and I have so much to do to-night! Just think, Wolfgang, what a mess I am in! The ladies in this neighborhood must needs take it into their head to embroider a rug
for St. Bridget, and ask me if I will join them? Of course
I said yes! At first there were six of us; but now one is
married, another has left town, the third is sick, the fourth
has given it up, the fifth-what was the matter with the fifth?
-in fine I am left quite alone, and how on earth am I to
do the whole work?"
While Aunt Bella recited this ingenious fable with many
blushes and much clearing of throat, she had taken the
half-finished rug on her lap. The enormous dimensions of
it gave a most criminal aspect to the wickedness of the five
mysterious ladies! Then Aunt Bella placed her work-basket on a chair by her side, took her light-blue spectacles out
of their cover, breathed upon them, rubbed them, held them
up to the light, and finally adjusted them carefully on her
nose.
"I find it rather difficult to see colors at night," she said,
"and if it were not for the little one, who selects the shades
for me, I should not be able to get on at all."
Ottilia sat on a low stool at her aunt's feet, busily at work
on one of the corners of the gigantic rug. The light from
the old-fashioned lamp was just strong enough to show the
embroidery and the busy hands, but the faces were in a dim
twilight; and only at times, when they bent forward, they
entered the bright circle. Wolfgang could not cease looking
at the two faces, so different in age and form and expression,
and yet harmonizing so well with each other. It was a
charming picture, as he saw it from his cosy corner on the sofa.
Aunt Bella, her spectacles low down on the tip of her nose,
was bending over to examine with her dark, sharp eyes, the
work of little one, who was probably embroidering after
her fancy instead of after the pattern! while Ottilia, raising
her face, assured her with a lovely smile, that " all was perfectly right." The anxious care of old age and the selfconfident courage of youth were here personified.  And
what life there was in these faces! what playful changes in
their features! and, above all, what zeal in their work! This
was no busy idleness-no one could mistake it for that; this




The House of Hohenstein.         377
was work! work which must be finished at the appointed
time, unless the firm of Mary Blad & Co. was to be entitled to
make a heavy deduction from the pitiful wages. And poor
Aunt Bella, who had so boldly undertaken the work of five
other ladies from the neighborhood of St. Bridget's, found
it evidently very difficult to distinguish the shades and even
the embroidery itself. Her needle by no means always hit
the right, place; and it was very clear that without the cunning fingers of the younger lady, which carried the needle
from place to place with great ease and rapidity, St. Bridget's altar would have had to wait a long time yet for its ornament.
How different was this picture from another which Wolfgang had so often watched of late! There, in a brilliant
salon, the double lamp from the ceiling had shone upon a
costly table, near which his future mother-in-law rested comfortably in swelling velvet cushions, her fat white hands
lazily playing with the silken ears of her pet dog. The
young ladies had some work in their hands, but it seemed a
mere pretext, for they hardly touched it, jumping up at every
moment to look for a photograph in the album or to bang
a few bars on the piano, or to call out: " Ah, Kettenberg,
come here and draw me this! I cannot do it!"
Wolfgang felt sick as he recalled it; he rose from the
sofa.
"You are not going, Wolfgang?" said Aunt Bella, looking over her spectacles.
" It is getting late," said Wolfgang.
"Oh, pshaw! " replied Aunt Bella.
"Perhaps Wolfgang is expected elsewhere!" added
Ottilia.
Suddenly a heavy step was heard on the gallery, accompanied by the fierce stamping of a heavy cane.
" Uncle and the doctor! " cried Ottilia, rising hastily to
open the door.
" Good evening, gentlemen! "
"Greeting to you, most lovely of maidens!" said Doctor
Holm, and then, perceiving Wolfgang, he continued without
interruption, " and to you in the armor shining in glorious
panoply! Truly I wonder at all this. For if I err not, the
fates have held you a sorrowful captive! You too, oh bel



378            The House of Hohenstein.
lissima aunt! be greeted with fervor. Let me, I pray, sit
down by the fire, enjoying your converse!"
"Will you take a chair? " said Aunt Bella.
"Well then, lead him, the stranger, to seats embossed
with silver! " said Holm, sinking comfortably into the sofa
corner, from which Wolfgang had risen to greet his uncle.
Uncle Peter had not forgotten the last meeting with his
nephew here in this room, now about a year ago, and the remembrance of his unkindness then, contributed not a little
to his greater cordiality now.
" You have kept me waiting long," he said, heartily shaking hands with the young man, " before you would give me
an opportunity to thank you for your services the other day.
I have been sincerely grateful to you for a sacrifice which
would do no good to our cause, and might have been very
ill advised. How is your mother?"
Uncle Peter began to walk up and down the room with
Wolfgang by his side. The latter had to tell him all about
his mother, and Uncle Peter's face became very sober when
he heard how much worse she had been of late. He passed
his hand across his face and said: "I shall call to-morrow
to see her. I have not been in your house these ten years,
but who knows how much longer your mother and I may be
together on this earth; and beyond the grave- "
Uncle Peter saw that these words made a very painful impression on Wolfgang, and he broke off, therefore, at once,
and entered upon politics. He looked upon the condition
of things as almost desperate. The' state of siege prevailing in all the great cities, the disarming of the people at
large, their discouragement and want of self-reliance-all
these seemed to him to make a revolution hopeless. "I
speak of those things," he continued, "on purpose to you.
You know that I used to be one of Munzer's most.intimate
friends, and I owe you therefore almost an apology for my
present hostility. Munzer has left the party to which he
formerly belonged, the party of liberty and German unity.
He wants to make of the German movement a European, a
universal revolution. I am credibly informed that he is in
league with French, Italian, and Slavonic republicans; and I
am well convinced that if he should succeed, chaos and anarchy would come upon us, but not German unity. In like




The House of Hohenstein.          379
manner he has abandoned our views on political economy:
he preaches extreme socialism. But I might pardon all that,
for after all he has a right to his views. But he is not even
consistent in what I consider his errors. He has been guilty
of the most extraordinary and sudden changes ever since
he returned from the convention in Berlin; it really looks
at times as if he were possessed by a demon, who drives
him into the maddest extravagancies. Thus he no longer
belongs to a party, but must be judged before the great
forum of general morality; and while I could forgive Munzer
the politician because he differs from me, I cannot esteem
Munzer the immoral socialist any longer.  I have long refused to credit the reports which are circulating in town
about his unhappy married life, and have often scolded the
women when they dinned them in my ears; but I confess I
believe they are true now.  He himself has done so much
to give them an air of plausibility: his separation from his
wife, perfectly inexplicable, now that he has been at home
for two months; his intimacy with your father's sister-in-law,
an intimacy which certainly looks strange in a republican of
extreme views, such as Munzer professes; his intercourse
with Major Degenfeld, who is an arch-aristocrat, in spite of
his revolutionary or Napoleonistic principles, which appear
very clearly in many places of his book. The aristocrats
say, noblesse oblige; and I say, republicanism also has its obligations, and ought also to consider appearances. The
man who wants to be a tribune of the people, must be such
from head to foot, and down to the innermost recesses of his
heart. The bow that is to hit the bull's eye, must come
from thoroughly sound wood-what is it, little one? "
" Aunty begs you will come to table," said Ottilia, pointing at a table in the background of the room, where she had
in the meantime set out a modest supper, quickly and noiselessly.
"Come, my girl," said Uncle Peter, gallantly offering
Ottilia his arm. " Come Wolfgang, it is a long time since we
had a bottle of wine together."
Wolfgang followed them to the table, where Aunt Bella
was already seated. The fare justified, in spite of its Spartan simplicity, Doctor Holm's enthusiastic praise, and even
a bottle of good wine was not wanting-the last but one, as




380            The House of Hohenstein.
Aunt Bella remarked with a sigh from her heart. Doctor
Holm was in his glory, and Aunt Bella seemed to have laid
up a stock of witty retorts, for she gave him unfailingly as
good as he sent. Uncle Peter played the attentive host to
perfection, and sent, in spite of Aunt Bella's terrific frowns, for
the last bottle also. " I mean to enjoy myself once more," he
said, "or rather I do not mean to do it-I do it. I feel as
if the last twenty or twenty-five years were wiped out of the
book of my life, and as if I had the blank pages once more
before me.  I stand, you know, just where I stood then
— and is not almost everything again exactly as it was
then? Do you remember, Holm, the first evening after your
return from Rome? We were sitting here at the same place
at this same table: you, my sister Margaret, your father,
Wolfgang, who had just become engaged to Margaret, and
-yes, Bella, you happened to be here also, that evening.
My head was full of projects-just as it is now, Bella; you,
Holm, were full of Italian reminiscences, and told us in magnificent hexameters and pentameters the elegiac love affair
with the Roman countess; Aunt Bella was sentimental at
first, and then as cheerful as she can be, and as she would
always be if she only knew how becoming it is to her; and
the two lovers were just as silent as our young people are
to-night. I thought, that evening, it would always be so.
Well, we cannot see all our wishes fulfilled, and yet even
that wish has been fulfilled. Holm and I, at least, we have
remained good friends; Bella and I begin at last to get
used to each other; and if we only substitute the son for the
father, and the curly head there for Margaret-all is very
nearly still as it was then. Fill your glasses, children! we'll
drink the old ones, that they may remain young; and the
young ones, that they may follow their example! "
The glasses clinked, and Holm delivered a speech in hexameters, but Wolfgang did not hear much of it. The innocent cheerfulness of these people affected him like a reproach.
They could be cheerful! They had nothing to reproach
themselves with; their whole life lay before them as clear
and bright as their eyes; they had never said yes, when
they thought no in their hearts.
An increasing restlessness took hold of the young man.
He felt as if in the midst of this merry, laughing company,




The House of Hohensteit.         381
some great misfortune must fall upon him; and he started
when the maid entered and said the lieutenant's servant was
at the door with a message for his master. His heart beat
convulsively as he went out. A glance at the face of the
kind-hearted man told him that he had bad news for him.
"What is it?"
"A note, sir, from the alderman."
With trembling hand Wolfgang opened the note and read
by the faint light of the hall-lamp: " Come home immediately, Wolfgang. Your mother is ill.-Your unhappy father."
"Where are you going?" asked Uncle Peter, who had
followed him.
" Mamma is ill     "
" I'll go too-one moment! I will only leave word."
Uncle Peter went back into the room and told them as
calmly as he could what he had heard. "It is probably
nothing serious, but I think I had better go too. I'll feel
better, and so will you."
A moment later the two men were in the street, and hurried through the night. Neither of them said a word. Why
should they deceive themselves by hopes which they did not
entertain.
CHAPTER XXVII.
"     OD be thanked that you come at last!" said the alderman, when Wolfgang and Uncle Peter entered the
parlor.
He had been sitting at a round table which stood in the
centre of the room, and now rose to welcome the two, but
he sank back into his chair, hiding his face in his trembling
hands.
Wolfgang walked up to him and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Mother is dead, father?"
"No! But she suffers so terribly, I cannot bear to see
it."
The unhappy man looked completely broken down. The




382            The House of tohenstein.
sight of Uncle Peter, who had not crossed his threshold for
ten years, had made no impression upon him.
" Be a man, Brother Arthur! " said Uncle Peter; "let us
bear jointly what is too much to bear alone."
The alderman raised his face, disfigured by pain, and
looked at his brother-in-law with wondering eyes.
"She was very dear to you! " he said.
"God knows! " sighed Uncle Peter.
Wolfgang had gone into the chamber where his mother
was lying. The few hours since he had seen her last, had
changed her fearfully. Young Dr. Brand, who had been
called in at Wolfgang's request, instead of old Dr. Snepper,
sat by her bedside. He took Wolfgang, as he stared in
despairing silence at the rigid features, and drew him gently
to some little distance from the bed, saying:
" You are prepared for the worst, Baron Hohenstein?"
" Yes!"
"You ought to be. Your dear mother will not survive
this night."
"Will she suffer much?"
" She is most of the time unconscious. I do what I can.
You may rely on that."
Wolfgang pressed the doctor's hand and went out to tell
Uncle Peter.
It was a sad, long night-a night in which minutes become
years, years full of intolerable suffering-a night, the terrors
of which ought to wash all our sins out of the book of life-a
night in which man is apt to ask, if it was not bitter mockery to let him be born, if he was destined to suffer such
agony.
Uncle Peter sat not far from the bed, supporting his prematurely gray head in his hand-silent, noiseless, like an
Indian bound to the stake, who will not let his enemies have
the gratification of seeing him move a muscle. Only once,
when Margaret in her wanderings began to speak of the old
house in River street and of Brother Peter, who had always
been so very kind to her, who had loved her so dearly, and
whom she had repaid so sadly for his love-only then Uncle
Peter rose softly, went into the darkest corner of the room,
and wept like a child.




The Houzse of Hohenstein.        383
It was a sad, long night.
When the gray morning light was stealing in through the
curtains, Margaret bent her head on one side; her features,
torn and racked with pain, assumed an expression of mild,
sorrowful solemnity. The goal of her long, painful pilgrimage was reached. A few deep low breathings... the burden of life fell from her oppressed bosom-forever! forever!
-0CHAPTER XXVIII.
A DISMAL, damp day was breaking upon the deserted
streets, flooded by a long rain. The wind was tearing fiercely through the tall old trees opposite, behind the convent wall, so that the mighty branches groaned
and moaned, and the little twigs knocked against each other
as if in mad terror. From time to time the low black
clouds poured down a heavy torrent of rain, and the big
drops beat against the windows like hailstones.
Wolfgang thought it was madness to bury his mother on
such a morning-his gentle, delicate mother, who had loved
the light of the sun like a pleasing deity, and who had held
sweet intercourse with the singing birds slipping through the
dense branches of the trees, as with her equals. This breast
that could not breath freely except in the soft, warm air of the
garden, was to be shut up in the narrow house of boards,
and that last house to be sunk into the cold, wet ground,
upon which the heavens were pouring down floods of wintry
rain!
Who is more barbarous now? Nature, which exposes her
most glorious offspring to wretched destruction? or man,
who adorns even the mantle of death with black crape and
black ribbons? And the horror of being unable to mourn
in solitude! To have to drag the fragments of society after
you, in these hours when we stand face to face with the beginning and the end of our existence! Miserable humanity,
which always stops at the surface of things, and crowds into
a house of mourning, as into a concert-room, to be saddened




384            The House of Hohenstein.
and moved here, as they are amused there. Ah, much
rather would I be alone with the precious remains, utterly
alone, on a lonely heath! Rather would I dig you a grave
with my own hands; and when they had buried you, I would
feel as if you were resting more easily under the dark
earth!
Wolfgang pressed his burning forehead against the cold
panes. A hand was laid gently on his shoulder. Ottilia
stood behind him.
" Wolfgang! Poor Wolfgang!"
Not a tear had yet come to the young man's eyes during
all these fearful days. The well of soothing tears seemed
to have dried up. But when he looked upon this dear, sweet
girl's face, endeavoring to appear composed, and yet trembling unconsciously in every feature, while the big drops were
rolling down, one by one, from the beautiful blue eyes over
the smooth, pale cheeks-then-when he saw his own great
grief embodied, as it were, in so touching a form, then the
anguish gave way, which had been locked up in his bosom
so long, and he broke out in tears. He extended his hand
to Ottilia; she seized it, and pressed it for a moment to her
heart.
"I should like to see her once more," she said in a
whisper.
" Come!"
Wolfgang led the young girl into the adjoining room, where
Margaret was lying in an open coffin. There was no one
else in the room. The two stepped up to the coffin, hand
in hand, and looked long at the pale face of the departed,
beautiful as a fair spirit.
" Do you recollect what she said," whispered Wolfgang to
Ottilia, "on that evening when we were standing, as now,
by her bedside, and she had looked at us for some time with
her bright, expressive eyes?"
"Yes," whispered Ottilia.
"She said: Now I have two children! Ottilia, will you be
my sister?"
" I will," whispered Ottilia, bending down upon the face
of the departed to seal the newly-formed alliance by a kiss
upon the beloved lips which had loved so much to mention
her name and Wolfgang's name together.




The House of Hohenslein.         385
"Now go, dear one," said Wolfgang, gently leading the
weeping girl from the room.
He himself remained. He had heard several carriages
drive up before the house. The moment when the coffin.would be closed forever, was near. He remained to watch
that no rude hand should touch his saint. He whom she
had borne into the light of this world, he would surrender
her to eternal night.
In the meantime the rooms on the other side of the house,
which the alderman occupied, had gradually filled up with
gentlemen, mostly the alderman's colleagues: Heydman &
Co., and other intimate friends; fat Chief Burgomaster
Dasch also was there, and trying in vain to arrange his full,
shining face in becoming sobriety of mourning, while he endeavored to convince the alderman that all men must die.
The latter sat, perfectly overcome, in the furthest corner of
the room. The president and Colonel Hohenstein stood in
one of the windows, conversing eagerly, probably about
Peter Schmitz, who stood in the other window, turning his
back to the entire company and drumming softly with his
fingers upon the panes. Poor Peter Schmitz was in a desperate frame of mind. He had already repented bitterly
that he had not quietly staid at home, as he had at first intended. What was the use of his being here among these
men who had never cared in the least for his poor Margaret,
and who had yet contributed so much to her misery through
life? But to leave the field to them now, when they had all
seen him-that was out of question, especially on account
of his ladies, who relied upon him for protection, or at least
because his sister Bella would never have pardoned him if
he had left her alone in this " wasp's nest," as she called it.
Aunt Bella had remained in the house since the morning
on which Margaret died; Wolfgang had wished it so. With
her sharp Schmitz eye, into which the consciousness of her
duty " to keep her head clear" had allowed no tears to rise
except on rare occasions, she had looked " after rights."
As the alderman, in his utter apathy, troubled himself about
nothing, she had made all the necessary arrangements, and
thus relieved poor Wolfgang of a heavy burden.  This
morning also she had come up early, taking care that Wolfgang should be left alone as much as possible.
I7




386           /The House of Hohenstein.
"Just let me do it, Wolf," she said; "don't you trouble
yourself about anything. I'll attend to everything that is
needful; and if the ladies should come, which however I do
not think at all likely, I will receive them in your name.
Just go up, poor Wolf! "
All who knew the horror Aunt Bella had of "the ladies,"
would have appreciated the heroic courage with which she
offered to show the hated visitors, if not a really kind face, at
least not one expressing her true feelings. It was the greatest sacrifice Aunt Bella could offer to Wolfgang. She was
determined to bridle her proud heart, and in this resolute
state of mind she went to receive the ladies, who arrived at
the same moment when Ottilia, who had come with Uncle
Peter, had left the room.
Unfortunately the "ladies" were in that frame of mind
which leads so easily to conflicts, and makes them so readily
assume a hostile character. The unusually early hour and
the uncommonly bad weather had no doubt their share in
this bad humor; but Wolfgang's conduct during the last
day had probably contributed far more largely. Wolfgang
had not only not shown himself, but he had written that he
felt unable to accept his future mother's invitation to seek
in her quiet and comfortable salon harmless and yet beneficent distraction. The lady was indignant; the colonel's wife
thought Wolfgang's conduct abominable; even Aurelia, who
generally took his part, said it looked as if he were treating
them rather cavalierement. Only Miss Camilla abstained, according to her usual policy in such cases, from all remarksfrom "delicacy," as her mother said, from "indifference," as
Aurelia called it.
Aunt Bella made her stately courtesy as the ladies entered
the room, and welcomed them in a tone which might have
been called a friendly tone, considering the state of her
mind.
"It seems you are doing the honors here, my dear," said
the colonel's wife, who, as a former Countess Duren-Lilienfeld, thought it highly improper to be received by a person
whom she did not know, and who was in all probability one
of Wolfgang's low relatives.
"If you permit me to comply with Wolfgang's desire, yes,'
replied Aunt Bella. "Will you take seats?"




The House of IHohenstein.        387
" I prefer standing," said the president's wife.
" As you like it!" said Aunt Bella.
"With whom may I have the honor? " asked the colonel's
wife, evidently irritated by Aunt Bella's composure.
" Will you permit me to return the question?" said Aunt
Bella.
"My name is Selma, Baroness Hohenstein."
"I am Miss Arabella Schmitz," replied Bella, rising to
her full height.
"I confess, the conduct of your betrothed begins to be
inexplicable to me," said the colonel's wife to Camilla, turning her back on Aunt Bella.
Camilla shrugged her shoulders.
" You have probably never buried a mother? " said Aunt
Bella, who could not prevent herself from making a reply to
Selma's remark.
"I spoke to Lieutenant Hohenstein's betrothed," said the
colonel's wife, sharply.
" I only wished to show my astonishment that my
nephew's betrothed should not have a word to reply to a
remark which accuses Wolfgang of impropriety of conduct."
" You surely do not seem to lack words."
"God be thanked, no! "
Ottilia's entrance interrupted this discussion. Ottilia did
not know that there was anybody else besides Aunt Bella in
the room. She would have avoided coming in just then, returning in the most painful excitement, with eyes all red from
weeping from the coffin of the beloved departed. Aunt
Bella saw it all at a glance. She also saw how the Hohenstein ladies examined Ottilia's appearance with that haughty
look, de haut en bas, which only very well bred young ladies
of rank know how to assume. The president's wife had
actually to use her glasses, while Selma stared at a painting
on the wall, in order to avoid returning the confused salutation of the blushing girl.
Aunt Bella beckoned to Ottilia and said:
"Will you get ready, child? And warm my cloak in the
kitchen. Please do it yourself."
" Why do you send the girl away? " asked the president's
wife.




388            The House of Hohenstein.
"To spare her being any longer exposed to the unkind
looks of the company present."
"We had better have stayed at home, mes enfants!" said
the president's wife.
" God knows you had better! " said Aunt Bella, advancing
a step and facing the four Hohenstein ladies. " Why did you
come? Surely not from love for the departed, for you have
despised and mortified her all her life. Yes, my fair young
ladies, turn up your noses! Yes, baroness, look at me as
grimly as you choose! It does not hurt me! I have a
harder head than poor Margaret had, else she would have
told you what I tell you now. She would have told you:'Leave me alone with your hypocritical friendship, which
vexes me more than if you were to show me your true faces!
Leave me in peace! I do not accuse you, although you
have been the curse of my life. I do not hate you, although
you have robbed me of what I held'dearest on earth! I ask
for nothing but for peace in life and peace in the grave!
peace from you, the proud, haughty, hard-hearted!' Yes,
my fair ladies! That is what she would have said-but she
dared not. And that is why I say it in her name, in the
name of my poor, unhappy Margaret. And now you may
go and denounce me to my brother-in-law or my nephew, as
you choose. I do not mind it! "
And Aunt Bella cast one more fiery glance at the ladies,
which they might divide out among themselves, and swept
out of the room.
" The person is mad! " said the president's wife.
" No, but we are so, to submit to it," said the colonel's
wife.
"Yes, but what can we do? " asked the former.
The ladies had not time to form any resolution, for the
funeral procession left the house.
The coffin had been lowered into the grave; the numerous
company had left the graveyard; even the workmen had gone
away, for the rain had commenced again most violently. Only
the hearse was still there; the driver did not seem to be in
a hurry; he busied himself leisurely with the traces, which
seemed to have gotten out of order in some way or other. But
when he saw that he was quite alone in the graveyard, he




The House of Hohenstein.         389
went up to the grave, took off his hat, and said: " Good
lady, sainted lady, pray for me! pray for old Moss! " The
old man stood there for some time, absorbed in earnest
prayer. Then he pulled out his cotton handkerchief, wiped
the tears and the rain from his face, put his hat on again,
and drove slowly back to town.
PART       THIRD.
CHAPTER       I.
TOWARDS noon of the same day a scene had taken
place in the salon of the president which showed
clearly how necessary it was to have that sanctuary
closely screened by its thick doors and heavy curtains from
the outer world. Miss Camilla and Miss Aurelia had had a
great quarrel; the mother had in vain tried to pacify the
combatants; and Joli, the lap-dog, who wanted to take his
part in the family imbroglio, had barked so loud that the
president could not stand it in his private room, and had
come in to inquire what was the matter. As all three of the
ladies spoke at once, and Joli, who seemed to enjoy the
scene uncommonly, was still barking as loud as he could,
it was not so easy for the president to ascertain the cause of
the dispute. At last the noise subsided. Joli jumped by a
great effort upon a velvet cushion and rolled himself up
comfortably for a nap, as if he knew by heart what was coming next. And indeed it was an old story which the president was now told by the three ladies.
Aurelia had accused Camilla of coquetting with Baron
Willamowski exactly as if she had not been engaged, and
Camilla had replied that that was no concern of Aurelia's, as
far as she could see. Aurelia had rejoined that it was her
concern, because she had no idea of becoming an old maid,
and yet that would be her fate if Camilla continued to flirt




390            The House of Hohenstein.
with every gentleman who came into the house. The little
spring, bubbling over with teazings, had at last grown into a
flood of hard speeches and bitter tears, until the swelling
waves had actually overflowed into the president's private
room.
The latter was just about to open his lips in order to
begin his usual, " But, children -  " when Aurelia anticipated him.
" I know all you mean to say, papa!" she cried; " and as
I am to be in the wrong as a matter of course, I do not see
why I am to be scolded in the presence of my younger
sister."
And Aurelia tossed her head with an air which was very unlike filial reverence, and left the room, banging the door by
no means gently.
"Very pretty in Miss Aurelia," said Camilla, following
the fugitive with a scornful look.
" But you ought really to be a little more careful! " said
the president, with a gentle, reproachful voice.
"Ah! " said Camilla. "Am I now to get the scolding
that Aurelia was to have received? I am much obliged! "
And the young lady went out at the other door, with an
air and a carriage in comparison with which that of Aurelia
might have been called very modest and well behaved.
The happy parents looked at each other, sadly embarrassed.
"I fear we have spoiled the children a little," said the
president.
" But you were too unkind in scolding the poor child."
"I should like to see the day when you will sustain me
against the children."
"When you are wrong, I cannot say you are right."
Joli looked up from his soft couch to see if it was worth
while to take part in the new dispute. But as he saw nobody in the room but his mistress and the president, he
did not think the matter sufficiently important, and put his
head once more between his fore legs.
"But, ma chere," said the president in his softest tone,
"who has encouraged and at last accomplished this marriage with Wolfgang-which is after all at the bottom of the
whole trouble-if it was not you? I cannot help it, I am




The House of Hohenstin.           391
sure, if Camilla does not like Wolfgang. If you had left
the youth where he was, you would not have been exposed
-this morning to the insolence of that Miss Schmitz, and
Camilla might have married Willamowski whenever she
chose."
As the good lady knew that her husband's reasoning was
in reality irrefutable, she had of course nothing left her but
to sink into the sofa corner, put her handkerchief before her
face and burst into tears.
Joli probably knew this scene also, for he simply wagged
his long, cunning ears gently, without raising his head.
The president, who was overwhelmed with business, but
who knew from long experience that as a matter of prudence
he ought not to return to his private room without having
first made his peace with his wife, employed all his powers
of persuasion to attain the desired end as soon as possible,
and at last he carried his gallantry so far as to let himself
down-not without some trouble-on his knees before the
weeping beauty.
At that moment a noise was heard, which was neither a
cough nor a hoarse laugh, and yet sounded like both. The
president rose to his feet much faster than he had sunk on
his knees.
"There is no end to love!" squeaked the new-comer.
"The sweetest illustration of that great word which my eyes
have ever seen!"
"Ah, mon cher ami, how are you?" said the president,
shaking hands most cordially with the physician. "But
you always come most wonderfully d propos! We were just
speaking of you. Accept my very heartiest congratulations,
Doctor Von Snepper!"
"And mine!" added the lady, offering him her fat white
hands.
"Thanks! many thanks!" said the doctor, pressing the
fat hands repeatedly to his thin lips. "I must admit, I am
touched and rejoiced both; my sovereign has been very
gracious."
"Well, my dear colleague, entre nous, you have worked
hard enough for it," said the president. "The activity you
showed in March and during the present election, was
astounding. It is due to you alone that Munzer has not




392            The House of Hohenstein.
been reelected'; for, of course, I do not believe that the red
republicans would like to make out now that he did not
desire a reflection."
" Maybe, Mr. President!" said the little man, taking his
pinch and then sitting down on a chair, with the gold snuffbox gliding swiftly through his fingers to and fro; " but they
might have given me a decoration merely, or a title-but to
ennoble me! You must confess that was more than you
had expected!"
"Well," said the president, smiling; " I thought I heard
from the very best authority, that when the government sent
to inquire in what form you would prefer the reward, you
yourself —"
"All right! all right! we understand each other!"
smiled the little man. " Was it not perfectly natural? "
" Certainly," replied the president; "but, my dear colleague, as I was saying, you come exactly d propos. You
know-the old story-Camilla becomes more and more
unmanageable, and-I grant you that, dear Clotilda-her
betrothed shows in her relations to her such a peculiar
reserve-to express it mildly-that I can hardly blame the girl
if her old fondness for Willamowski is coming back again."
" But why this Willamowski, and always again this Willamowski? " cried the new nobleman with such vehemence,
that Joli, half asleep as he was, began to growl.
Father and mother looked at each other in astonishment.
"Pardon me," said the doctor, "if I allow my warm
interest in you and your children to carry me too far; but, to
tell the truth, I cannot understand how one can hold such
an excellent hand and play so badly. Why do you not distribute the admirers of your daughters equally, instead of
giving them all to Camilla? Willamowski is a very tolerable match, now that he has fallen heir to his great aunt's fortune. I tell you the baron is going to settle down; he
knows he cannot go on long at the rate at which he now
lives. He means to marry d tout prix, and I am sure, under
these circumstances, he'll take Aurelia just as lief as Camilla.
Aurelia is heartily tired of playing the second part always,
or rather of being overlooked altogether, and she also wants
to marry d toutprix. There is nothing easier in the world
than to bring those two together. If Willamowski recovers




The House of Hohenstein.         393
his health-bon  then you have a tolerably rich and very
pliable and obedient son-in-law; if he does not recoverwell! if he does not recover, the young widow will find in a
fortune, which for herself alone is very considerable, sufficient consolation for her loss! "
Father and mother looked at each other again, but this
time with a certain well-pleased surprise.
" Not so bad! Not so bad!" said the president; "and
Camilla and Wolfgang?"
The little man said: " Ahem!" took another pinch, and
dusted his cuffs industriously as if some grains of snuff had
fallen on them, while he said:
"I have adhered in this whole matter from the beginning
to a plan which has come out more clearly and proved
more correct as the matter has advanced. There were two
points to be considered; first: Camilla must be the general's heir; secondly: Wolfgang must fetch the roasted chestnuts out of the fire; and when all is secured, he has to be
dropped. As a matter of necessity, we had to agree to his
excellency's notion; but of course not in good earnest, only
for the sake of appearances and until he had become perfectly familiar with the idea that Camilla and Wolfgang
were to be his only heirs. Then nothing more was to be
done but to remove Wolfgang, willingly if he proved yielding, by force if it must be; so that Camilla was to remain
the only heir.
" Now you see how nearly we have achieved this already.
If I am not mistaken in the youth, he is even now ready to
give back Camilla's word. That would be right and proper
enough; but we must inform the old general of Wolfgang's
refusal to marry Camilla at a moment when he has already
been deeply offended and insulted by the young man.
Fortunately Fate has provided for this also. The young
man is tired of the army, I tell you. He will soon not be
able to stand it any longer, and then comes our time. Then
you, Mrs. President, with your admirable skill in such matters, must arrange a scene-and we are rid of him, you may
rely on it."
Father and mother looked at each other once more with
joyous surprise, but this time a slight feeling of doubt
seemed to be mixed up with it.
I7*




394            The House of Hohenstein.
" Is not that a rather hazardous game? " asked the president.
"Faint heart never won fair lady! " replied the doctor.
"It is true, my brother hinted this morning at the dissatisfaction Wolfgang was beginning to show with his profession."
" Why, there you have it, bold and clear!" cried the
doctor. "The colonel knows much more, you may be sure,
than he cares to tell you. Do you think his wife has ever
gotten over the preference which the old gentleman has
shown to Wolfgang over her own sons? They-Selma as
well asihe colonel-think of nothing else than of making
the situation as unbearable as possible to Wolfgang. Do
you think it was by chance that the young man was put into
Degenfeld's battalion? It was done on purpose from the
beginning, in order to put Wolfgang in a false position, to
make him unpopular with his comrades, and to involve him
in difficulties. Oh! I tell you, the colonel is deeper than
you imagine. He would pursue his purpose of compelling
Wolfgang to quit the service with greater energy even,
if he were not afraid of irritating the general, and of thus
working in the end only for your Camilla. You ought, therefore, to leave him some little hope that Cuno might possibly
yet become Camilla's husband, and you would be delighted to
see how eagerly the colonel would come to your assistance."
"Cher ami, you are a subtle fox," said the president, with
sincere admiration.
" Do you think so?" said the little man, complacently.
He blew off the last grains of snuff from his cuff, leaned
back in his chair, crossed his lean legs, and looked at the
two before him with cunning, watchful eye.
"I can tell you even more than that. The general is by
no means as fond of the youth now as he was last year.'That boy costs me a mint of money!' he said only the
other day when I was out there. Well, you know all this
money passes through the alderman's hands.  You may
imagine, therefore, what becomes of the greater part of it."
"But," said the president, "I thought Arthur's circumstances had improved very much of late? You hinted at it
about a year ago, that he was nearly a bankrupt, and you
see now how well he has pulled through."




The House of Hohenstein.         395
"Heaven knows how he has managed to do it," said the
doctor.  " He was on the eve of failure; I am positive
about that. It may be that the old gentleman has helped
him, although I should hardly think he could have spent fifteen or twenty thousand dollars on him-and less than that
would not have helped your brother. I gave him a year
then; the time is nearly out; if he fails now, the game is in
our hands; bankrupt relations are not in the position to be
treated with ceremony."
"Poor devil!" said the president, shrugging his shoulders. "I should be sorry, after all, if matters went so very
badly with him. He really looked wretched this morning."
" But, my dear president," said the doctor, "I do not
understand you!  If you really feel tender about your
brother-a fact I have never noticed before-you ought to
congratulate him on being relieved of his sorrowful wife,
who was always sick and in trouble! I told him three
months ago that she was beyond recovery.  In return for
my candor, he preferred that republican, Dr. Brand, to me,
and I shall not so soon forget the insult."
"Revenous d nos moltons, cher ami! " said the president's
wife. " You have not told us one thing yet, in spite of your
prodigality to-day, which makes me think that you know this
also. If we should satisfy Willamowski by giving him Aurelia, what, or rather who, remains for Camilla? If you deprive us of a son-in-law, you ought to furnish us with a substitute."
Dr. von Snepper opened his thin legs, stretched them as
far as they would go, leaned still further back in his chair,
played with the gold snuff-box in his left hand, cast a wellpleased glance at the tall mirror opposite, and said with a
peculiar smile, " How do you think I look, baroness?"
" Mais tr~s bien," said the lady, who took his question literally, and raised her glasses to see him better.
" I hope so! " continued the little man in the same tone.
"A man of sixty, well-preserved, with a private fortune of a
quarter of a million, and an income from his practice of
about ten thousand dollars, that is, with a revenue equal to
that of a prime minister; a man whose services in behalf
of the state and the dynasty the sovereign has just rewarded
by the highest honor which he can bestow; a man who, in




396            The House of Hohenstein.
case of a new ministry coming in, as is highly probable, is
likely to assume the portefeuille of a certain used-up gentleman-I should think, baroness, such a man would not be
so very unpleasant as a son-in-law!"
" Ha, ha, ha! " laughed Clotilda, "you are to-day in a
charming humor, doctor, really charming!" And the fat
lady threw herself back in her corner of the sofa, and
laughed so very loud, that Joli jumped up and attacked the
doctor's legs, thinking that there must be some connection
between this sudden laugh, which had cruelly roused him
from his after-dinner nap, and the doctor, whom he abhorred.
" Horrible creature!" cried the doctor, and beat with his
red-silk handkerchief angrily upon the aggressor.
Joli did not neglect such a glorious opportunity to injure
his enemy. He struck his sharp teeth into the handkerchief and pulled, resting on his legs, as hard as he could,
while the doctor pulled at the other end.
" I am dying, I am dying! " cried Clotilda.
"I wish you would relieve me of this creature," said the
doctor, with a glance at his dying friend which was by no
means friendly.
" Call the animal back, my dear! " said the president, by
no means pleased with the turn which the scene had taken.
There is no knowing how disagreeable the interview
might yet have become, as the good lady could not stop
laughing, and the doctor became more and more angry, if
Joli's thoughts had not been diverted from the attack by the
entrance of one of his special friends.
The new-comer was Assistant-Judge Wyse. The young
man, usually very quiet and not easily moved from his affected or real indifference, was so evidently disturbed ard excited, that all exclaimed in one breath:
" What is the matter, judge? "
" A strange piece of news," was the answer, "which would
hardly be credible if I had not heard it from the best
authority."  And the young man sank exhausted into a
chair.
" But, mon Dieu, you kill me," cried the president's wife.
" I pray, sir, what is it? " said the president.
" The thing is this," said Wyse, apparently very much embarrassed-" but I must beg you will not punish the bearer




The House of aohenstein.          397
of the news for the pain it will naturally cause you-the thing
is, that his excellency, the old general, has this morning
been arrested at Rheinfeld, and has been brought under
escort to town, in order to be tried! "
The president's pale face had turned livid; his wife was
evidently near fainting; Doctor Snepper looked at the poor
crushed people with a certain satisfaction.
"But how can that be, Wyse? And who told you?"
stammered the president.
"My brother," said Wyse. "You know he is attached to
that court, and he himself held the first examination."
" But for heaven's sake, dear Wyse, what is it all about?"
" Of course, my brother would not and could not tell me
that," replied Wyse, with a look full of meaning at the poor
lady, who sat almost stupefied, with eyes and mouth wide
open, in the sofa corner.
" I believe, dear Clotilda, you had better go to your room,"
said the president, offering his arm to his wife and leading
her out of the room. Her little strength seemed to have
left her entirely, and she was apparently completely crushed
by the blow. The president returned immediately, and seizing his visitor by the arm, he asked him in a low, hoarse
voice: "For God's sake, Wyse, what do you know about
it? What is it?"
"If you must know it, Mr. President: the general is
charged with murder. His housekeeper has accused him of
having caused the death of one of his servants some eight
or ten years ago; and however that may be, the public prosecutor has found himself in duty bound to order his arrest.
The general denies, of course, everything, but my brother
tells me that the old gentleman looks perfectly wretched, and
he himself has a presentiment that the thing will end badly."
The president sank into a chair and put his hand on his
high, narrow forehead.
" Do you think, judge, I can be allowed to see the general?"
" I hardly think so, Mr. President. You know  "
" I know! I know! But they might make an exception.
Go, Wyse, inquire about it. Through your brother you may
do something for me. If you succeed, I shall be under the
very greatest obligations to you."




398            The House of Hohenstein.
" Your wishes shall be obeyed, Mr. President," said Wyse,
gracefully bowing to the two gentlemen, and leaving the
room, accompanied by Joli's friendly bark.
" What do you say, dear friend, what do you say? " cried
the president, looking at the doctor with anxious eyes.
"That I think the whole very probable," replied the latter, taking a pinch.
" Probable? Do you mean to kill me? It would be the
most horrible thing that could ever have happened to me.
I pray you, Snepper, a murderer in our family!-the head
of our family a murderer! The thing would make a fearful
sensation.  Just think of the scandal! Like the Duc de
Praslin in Paris! and just after that horrible affair in Hanover! Friend, I am beside myself! They will, they must
drop us all! Such a scandal compromises the relatives irreparably to the tenth and twelfth generation! I should be
lost, positively lost, and that just now, when I have a chance
of being made civil governor or even minister! "
Doctor Snepper shrugged his shoulders.  "It's a bad
case," he said, and extended his hand to seize his hat and
cane, which lay near him on the chair.
" But, great God! colleague, friend! You are surely not
going? You will not forsake me in this great trouble?"
cried the president, almost pushing the little man back
again into his chair.
"I cannot advise you," said the little doctor, angrily. " I
cannot help you." The president walked up and down the
room with long strides, his hands on his back.
" But it is impossible! " he said, pausing before the doctor.  "They cannot accept the denunciation of an old
woman and condemn the head of a family like ours, which
carries its pedigree up into the fourteenth century. The old
gentleman would of course have the sympathy of the judges,
of the jury, of the whole world in his favor."
" You might be mistaken in that point, my dear friend,"
said the doctor; "the general's reputation is well known
not to be the very best; and then you forgot another very
important point. The general is a Protestant, and his judges
and the jurymen will mostly be Catholics. I should not
wonder at all if, with the prejudices of the native population,
public opinion should turn against him, and you know that




The House of Hohtenstein.        399
always has its influence on the judges, and especially on the
jury. As I am a Catholic myself, and a scion of an old
patrician family, you will do me the justice to think that I
am able to judge these matters fairly, although I am, of
course, on principle, opposed to all wrongful influences in
such grave matters."
" But, great God! my dearest friend," said the president,
seizing the little man by the button, as he stood before him,
hat and cane in his hand, "just because you are a Catholic
and a friend of the public prosecutor, you ought to be able
to do something for me."
"Well," said the doctor, holding the gold knob of his
cane to his thin lips, " my opinion might be of little value
from that point of view, but-my evidence in court as to the
condition of the body, if it ever should come to an autopsy-"
"Dearest, dearest friend," cried the president, embracing
the little man, " you will save us! you are an angel! Command me! my gratitude would be unbounded!"
" Really?" asked the doctor, with an ironical smile; "but
I cannot stay a second longer. Good-by, my dear sir, and
take a seltzer powder; you are quite feverish."
Doctor Snepper had nearly reached the door, when the
president, who had been lost in meditation suddenly started
up and cried:
" One word, dear colleague."
"What do you wish?"
"Was that in earnest-just now-about Camilla?"
" But, my dear sir, I hope you know how to take a joke?"
said the other, grinning hideously. " Good-by!"
The president followed him with a fixed look, till he had
disappeared.
" Hm, hm! " he said to himself; "is that the way matters
stand? It would be strange, to be sure! rather ridiculous!
unsuitable! However, it would depend on the girl-she's
different from most girls of her age. I might beat about the
bush, rather that than to see the old man-hm, hm!"
— o —----




400            The House of Hohenstein.
CHAPTER        II.
THE arrest of the old general at Rheinfeld produced, as
the president had predicted, an immense sensation in
Cologne and far beyond it. Everybody was familiar
with the name of a family that had occupied for generations
the highest offices in the civil and military service of the
government; everybody had, at some time or other, come
in personal contact with one of the Hohensteins, and everybody was, therefore, more or less interested in the strange
event. It was, however, not difficult to see that this interest arose by no means from sympathy, but that public opinion was rather pleased at the terrible misfortune. This was,
no doubt, partly due to the local antagonism between the
Catholic natives and the Protestant government officials; but
the principal cause of the hostile attitude assumed by the
public arose from the hatred which this great and noble family
had, in the course of time, aroused by their pride and their
haughty, unpopular manner. The arbitrary rule of the old
civil governor, the father of the three brothers, was not yet
forgotten in the province; the more than ordinary rudeness
of the colonel; the hypocritical softness and politeness of the
president, who was at heart a most inveterate aristocrat; the
intolerable, overbearing pride of the young men, and even
the notorious freedom of manners of Antonia Hohensteinall were perfectly well known to the world at large, and thus
the world did not deem it by any means improbable that
the old general at Rheinfeld, whose rudeness and brutality,
as commanding-general of the provinces, were also still well
remembered, should have added another crime to the many
wrongs he had already committed. Public imagination was,
moreover, aroused by the remarkable nature of the crime.
Everybody knew, of course, that the charge was murder.
Some said the victim was one of the general's servants, who
had been too intimate with the general's housekeeper and
mistress; others had it that it was a rich Jew, a dealer in
jewels, who had spent the night at Rheinfeld, but only to be
robbed of his precious property and of his life at the same time
-a story which accounted most conveniently for the exagger



T7he House of Hohenstein.         40I
ated statements of the general's fortune. Still others were not
content with one murder, but spoke of a whole series of
murders, which the general was said to have committed, with
the aid of his housekeeper, in order to satisfy his cupidity;
and this account began at last to prevail most largely, because it gave most food to the desire of people for horrible
things. The old gentleman became a gray-haired Blue
Beard, and Castle Rheinfeld a murderer's den, full of fearful
mysteries, which the trial would soon expose in broad daylight to the horror of all good Christians.
It seemed, however, as if the curiosity of the public was
to be left ungratified for some time; since the case, which
had at first appeared so simple, that the old general was considered, as it were, only a few days from the gallows, grew
every day more complicated. It became known that the
evidence was very contradictory, and that the numerous witnesses supported now one and now another theory. At last
the Blue Beard party became the strongest. Strong evidence
had accumulated, inculpating the person whose affidavit had
first led to the general's imprisonment-the old gentleman's
housekeeper, Mrs. Bridget Hans-and she also had been
arrested. Hardly had the woman been carried to jail, when
the news reached town that her husband, Balthasar Hans,
schoolmaster in the village of Rheinfeld, and one of the
most important witnesses for the prosecution, was missing.
It was well known that this man had for years enjoyed the
general's special favor, and as a mark of this, had been allowed to marry Mrs. Bridget. In this unenviable position
the man had apparently vegetated for years in the little village, till his sudden disappearance made him enter upon the
scene in the still more painful light of an accomplice.
But that was not all. Everybody took it for granted that
he also had been murdered in order to prevent his evidence
being heard. It appeared that his wife had been at Rheinfeld the last day on which he had been seen, and passers-by
declared they had heard angry voices, and especially the
scolding voice of the woman, through the closed windowshutters.
This incident raised the excited imagination of the public to a state of frenzy. And now it appeared, also, why the
poor schoolmaster had been compelled to leave this world so




402            The House of Hohenstein.
suddenly. He was the only one who could point out with
certainty the place in the park at Rheinfeld where the murdered man had been interred. It was an awful story. The
good people of Cologne were nearly beside themselves, but
at the same time not a little proud that they also had their
fearful tragedy, like so many other great cities.
For the Hohenstein family, however, the drama was a calamity of the gravest character. The sovereign, it is true,
went so far in his condescension as to send word to the president, through the governor, and to the colonel, through his
commanding general, that he would not forget his faithful
servants in their undeserved sufferings. All the other officials, it is true, no sooner heard this-and the persons in
question took good care to let it be heard-than they hastened to present assurances of their undiminished respect,
affection, or esteem; but it was nevertheless " a bad case,"
which by no means contributed to make life more pleasant
to the colonel's and the'president's families.
One comfort-a qualified one, however-was the fact that
they could hear every day how things went on, thanks to the
kindness of Mr. Wyse, brother of the young official who had
been charged with the preliminary investigation. The old
general obstinately denied everything; and-according to
the two Wyses-he displayed in his answers a most unusual
cunning and a strength of memory which was almost unheard of in so old a man. It seemed almost impossible to
involve him in a contradiction by the most searching crossexamination. He insisted upon his -first statement, that in
the night of August i, I839, a violent attack of coughing
had roused him from his sleep, whereupon he had rung the
bell for his servant, Anselm George, from Churchtown. As
the man had not appeared after repeated ringing, he had
himself risen, with much difficulty, to wake the lazy fellow.
Not finding him in his room, he had gone to the other wing
of the chateau, where the pantry was, because he remembered that the man had more than once managed to obtain
the key of the pantry, in order to steal liquor there and to
get drunk.. He had found the man lying there-at the foot
of the spiral staircase which led to the upper story-dead,
and with his skull smashed. He had then waked the house
keeper and the other servants, who had placed the body on




The House of Hohenstein.         403
a table, and there it had been seen on the following morning by several persons, among them by the schoolmaster,
Balthasar Hans. Then the body had been carried into a
barn, and, as far as he could recollect, because the heat was
unusually powerful, it had been buried the subsequent night
by said Balthasar Hans and two men-servants called Peter
Schutz and Jacob Pitter, both of whom had since died.
The necessary reports had been made at the proper time,
but the priest of Churchtown, Rev. Ambrosius Kandle, had,
on account of sickness, not been able to attend the funeral.
He had never seen or known the place where the body had
been buried.
Bridget Hans, however, deposed very differently. According to her evidence, she had had a love affair with the
departed, which she had been compelled to keep a great
secret from the general, because he had just cause of jealousy. Nevertheless she had been surprised by the general
in that fatal night at a stolen interview with her lover.
Anselm, though a powerful man, had been frightened out of
his wits by seeing the old general suddenly appear at the
door with a huge axe in his hand and rage in his eyes. The
unfortunate man had sunk on his knees, imploring the general's forgiveness. The only answer had been a single blow,
which laid open the right side of the petitioner's head and
instantly killed him.  Then the general had turned to
Bridget with the intention of taking her life also, but he had
yielded to her urgent entreaties, insisting only upon her
dragging the dead body to the foot of the stone steps and
arranging it so as to give an air of probability to his story,
that the man had been killed by a violent fall. He had
then compelled her to go to bed, so that she might be roused
by the general in the presence of other servants. As for the
funeral of the murdered man, she corroborated the general's
statement. Her husband's disappearance she explained by
his reluctance to live with her, as she had asked him to do,
after the general had been arrested. He might possibly
have committed suicide, for he had'always been a great coward; but at all events she knew nothing of his present whereabouts.
"The whole thing is as complicated as it well can be,"
said Judge Wyse to the president's wife; "a real kaleido



404            The House of Hohenstein.
scope, or like one of your changeantes dresses, to use a comparison with which you are more familiar. To-day green,
to-morrow red, and the day after to-morrow probably blue,
just as the witnesses come up. Now a new personage has
made his appearance, a certain Kilian, till quite recently
the general's own man-  "
" Oh, I know him very well, a tall, fresh-looking, charming fellow," said the lady.
"The very same, madam; it seems that this Kilian and
Bridget have made common cause with each other, in order
to extort, by a false accusation, as much money from the old
gentleman as-"
"The horrible creature! " cried the president's wife.
"Certainly, madam! Only the very fact that they have
lately, both of them, deposited very considerable sums of
money with a little broker in town, speaks very unfavorably
against the general; for although he insists upon the money
being stolen from him, they assert, on the contrary, that he
has given it to them as hush-money."
"No doubt he has heen robbed, the dear old gentleman,"
said the lady.
" Very likely," answered Judge Wyse; "still, the general
seems to have drawn of late very large sums in cash from
his bankers here in town, and his statement as to the manner in which he has disposed of them, is rather doubtful."
The president, who heard a statement of this conversation
soon after from his wife, was particularly struck by this last
remark.
" I fear," he said, " this perfectly horrible affair will bring
to light all that has been so long carefully kept from the
public, especially the reason why Camilla has engaged herself to Wolfgang. The old sinner is capable of making a
clean breast of the whole! We are lost if it becomes known
that this proposed match was only a speculation, a way to
obtain the old man's fortune. We must try more than ever
to keep up the entente cordiale; we must especially manage
to conciliate Wolfgang, who is evidently offended by Camilla's conduct. This is not the moment to break off the
engagement. Snepper ought to understand that as long as
the body has not been found his claims upon Camilla are
perfectly illusory. I must have a talk with the old fop."




The House of Hohenstein.         405
Doctor Snepper fully approved of the president's plan.
"I ask for nothing," he said, " but that you do not deprive
yourself of the power to reward me for the services which I
may possibly render your family in this affair. You approve
of my attachment to your charming daughter - bon! you
make it a condition that I obtain the acquittal of the old gentleman-quite fair; death alone can be had for nothing, and
not that always. I shall present myself at the proper time
to ask for the sweet prize; till then you may let that fool
Wolfgang enjoy to his heart's content the illusion of a happiness which is never to be his. Keep him in good humor,
and allay his jealously as best you can!"
"But how can we, dear sir?"
" Marry Aurelia! "
"To.Willamowski?"
"To Willamowski!"
"But will he be disposed to do so just now?"
" Just now? Tickle his vanity, engage his generosity; he
is fool enough to go into the net! "
The president profited by this good advice. It was not
difficult to win over Aurelia in favor of marrying Willamowski. Of late the young lady had had sad experiences in
connection with some of her lovers. Lieutenant Count
Brinkman, who had last winter danced every night with her,
had become engaged to beautiful Miss Georgianna Hinkel;
Kettenberg, the painter, had been captivated by Antonia,
whose life-size portrait he was painting for the exhibition,
and of whom he had told Aurelia such wonderful things, that
the latter was deeply offended at his fickleness, as she called
it. There remained, therefore, nothing to be done but to
make the project acceptable to Willamowski; and the president was determined to follow, in doing this, the doctor's
admirable prescription to the letter. It had been skillfully
arranged that one evening, when the president's wife received
the few guests who continued to appear since the catastrophe, the baron should be left alone in one of the salons.
The lady of the house complained bitterly of the friends
who vanished with the sunshine of good fortune, until the
baron appeared in his own eyes uncommonly brave and generous. Then she painted in glowing colors the cares of a
loving mother's heart, when she thought of the fate of her




406            The House of Hohenstein.
daughters, to whom she would give but a modest fortune, and
finally she offered her hand to the baron and said, looking
very affectionately at him: " I must look a moment after
my poor, suffering Camilla; I suppose I can entrust my
other child for a few minutes to your care, baron?"
The baron kissed her hand gratefully, opened the door for
her, and looked much excited when he returned to the table
at which the " child " was crocheting a silk purse, and at the
same time watching him very carefully from under her long
black eyelashes.
" For whom do you work that pretty thing there, Miss
Aurelia?" said the baron, after a long pause, during which
he had been moving restlessly to and fro on his chair.
"Not for myself," said Aurelia; "I would have nothing
to put inside."
"Ahem!" said the baron.
"You say?"
"Nothing, nothing at all! I only meant to say, that depends on yourself alone!"
"How do you mean, dear Stillfried?" asked the " child,"
raising her innocent brown eyes to him.
"I mean-sapristi, Miss Aurelia! I am not a man of
many words. I have not the gift of the gab, like Brinkman;
I am not a genius like Kettenberg. But if you are willing
to take me, you shall never want gold pieces enough to fill that
pretty green thing there. You have told me often enough,
in former days, that I am at the bottom a thoroughly honest
fellow, and that you are very fond of dancing with me, and
that my brougham is the easiest-going carriage you know."
This speech, uttered with all the signs of greatest confusion of ideas, had frightened the "child " so terribly that
she came near fainting, sank back in her chair, and pressed
her handkerchief upon her face.
The clever baron thought this might be a favorable sign.
He knelt down, therefore, by the chair, and seizing one of
the hands that were hanging down listlessly, he cried:
"Aurelia, divine Aurelia! Tell me that you will make
the usual calls to-morrow in my brougham. I will drive my
black horse, though the animal is too good for su.ch a purpose."
Aurelia was so deeply touched by this evidence of self



The House of Hohenstein.         407
sacrificing tenderness, that she wound her arms around the
neck of the dragoon, and kissed the pretty, well-dyed moustache repeatedly.
" Angel! " lisped the lieutenant of dragoons.
At that moment the door opened, and the terrified mother
appeared on the threshold with her husband by her side.
Stillfried, Baron Willamowski, jumped up, seized the young
lady's hand, led her up to her mother, and said:
"Mrs. President-Mr. President-my betrothed, if you
consent!"
"But, great heavens! " said the president. "How has
this so suddenly-?"
"Come to my arms, dear son!" said his wife, pressing
the happy man to her maternal bosom.
CHAPTER III.
" A   LL, all must change!" How often had Wolfgang
f_.   repeated to himself the comforting words, as spring
began daily to shine brighter upon earth, and all
was green and blooming around him. But he had said it so
often without finding consolation, that he at last gave up all
faith in the glad message. Could spring change what was
unchangeable?  Could spring, while decking trees and
bushes with lovely, tender foliage, and giving to the birds
the old, ever-new songs, bring back to him the beloved one
who had been so fond of wandering beneath their shade,
and who had listened to the simple melodies with such genuine joy and such touching reverence? Can this shower of
pink blossoms efface the traces of the dear one? Can the
whispering of the breeze in the waving branches drown the
memory of the sweet voice which, like that of a deity, spoke
to him the first words of love in the morning dawn of his
soul? Is death less fearless because it is an enigma, the
mysteries of which our dull mind cannot fathom, the horrors of which our fancy cannot comprehend, the image of
which even our memory is too weak to retain? Are we less




408            The House of Hohenstein.
unhappy to-day because we know we shall laugh and be
merry again a few years hence, as if we had never lost a
mother? Wretched humanity, which bears the livery of
misery as a garment of honor, which makes necessity a virtue and want a religion!
The death of his beloved mother was the first great grief
which Wolfgang had experienced; and if this event must needs
have been at all times one of the deepest sorrow for him, it
was doubly so now, when his mind was already oppressed
and saddened by other influences. He remained for days
in a condition which would have appeared incomprehensible
to all who did not know the mutual love that had existed
between mother and son; and even when the first burning
grief had passed away, his melancholy was still of a kind
which filled all who loved him with sincere apprehensions. But
the world, with its countless claims, triumphed at last over
the self-inflicted pain, and compelled him not to seek pleasure in life for himself, but to live in sympathy with others
and for others.
First of all, for his father, in whom, since Margaret's death,
a remarkable change had taken place.  Apparently the
alderman had recovered from the blow in a few days, with
his usual elasticity. He pursued his ordinary occupations;
he frequented even his clubs as before; he dressed as carefully as formerly, perhaps with even greater elegance; but
those who observed him, noticed that he did all this mechanically, simply because it was his habit, and he thought it
proper to do so. It looked as if all his strength barely sufficed to enable him to keep up appearances such as he had
maintained all his life. He spoke as often as before at the
meetings of the city council, but a triumph at the time of
voting produced no elation, and a defeat pained him no
longer, sensitive as he had heretofore been on the subject.
When leaving the council-room he would converse in his
usual courteous manner with Alderman Heydman & Co.,
Senator Wester, and other old fogies, and more or. less fanatic adherents of the government, but his jests were icy, and
his smile as cold as his hands.
"I don't know," said Mr. Wester, a slightly hump-backed,
red-haired dandy, who was extremely proud of his beauty and
his cleverness, "but Hohenstein looks to me like a man who




The House of Hohenstein.          409
goes on playing a game which he knows he has lost,
merely from good-nature." Alderman Heydman & Co.
looked around timidly and replied: "Do you know, my
dear sir, I sometimes think Hohenstein must be in some way
involved in that horrible affair of the general's. It would be
awful-awful!"
Although not all the business friends of the alderman
might entertain the same apprehensions as Heydman & Co.,
the effect of the " horrible affair " on the alderman's business
was yet very serious. Large sums of money which he had
borrowed, were demanded back; creditors who formerly
would have waited his pleasure, now insisted upon being
paid; his old embarrassments became more pressing, new
ones were added-and the alderman discussed these things
with his son as if they were matters of course. "Such
things blow over! " he said; "that affair of your granduncle is very inopportune, but it has to be borne."
Wolfgang thought, in spite of these assurances of his
father, that his situation was far more serious than during
the spring of last year, and fancied he saw in the composure
with which he spoke of his troubles, the calmness of despair.
He felt all the more deeply that he ought not to abandon
his father now, but do everything in his power to help him
through these hard times. Thus there arose a closer intimacy between father and son in these days, than had ever existed before.  That evil fortune which seemed to have
befallen the whole family, seemed at least to have had one
good effect: to bind the members more closely to each
other.
This sense of voluntary or involuntary communion made
it impossible for Wolfgang to break the chains with which
his engagement and his military duties had burdened him.
Now that the name of his family was on everybody's lips, he
could not well take steps which would only add to the slanders and charges already current. If he were to quit the
army now, everybody would ascribe it to his despair about
the disgraced honor of his family. Nor could he permit a
man like Willamowski to surpass him in generosity-a man
who, foolishly proud as he was of his old name, had chosen
this very time of humiliation to offer it to a member of the
Hohenstein family! Camilla had fallen on his neck when
Is




410            The House of Ifohenstein.
he returned to her house the first time after his mother's
death, begging him to be friends again and to pardon her all
the caprices by which she had annoyed him-could he refuse
her just now? The mother had taken him to her bosom
with a flood of tears, and called him her "dear, dear son " —
could he just now tell her that he did not desire to be her
son? With all his truthfulness, Wolfgang could not say all
this at such a moment. He stammered a few confused excuses, and was very grateful when they did not reproach
him for his rare visits, which he managed to time so that he
found always at least one or another visitor in the almost
deserted salons.
At the same time, however, that his heart was bleeding
almost to death, it was deeply agitated by his anxiety for
the fate of his country. Wolfgang had ever loved liberty,
because he thought it just and right; but his refined taste
had been shocked by the coarse form under which liberty
enters into life. Now, his more frequent contact with the
world, and his conviction that a conflict must come, had
freed him from this repugnance.  He knew now that the
mechanic need not be ashamed of his stained and spotted
dress; that the man who wields the axe, even if he were a
god, must have callous hands, and that rude work not only
excuses rude forms, but requires them.
The young man frequently discussed these matters with
Munzer and Degenfeld, whose extreme views were just now
more attractive to him than his uncle's calmer mode of
thinking. He did not hide this preference from his uncle,
and Peter Schmitz did not think of blaming him for it. " I
understand it perfectly," said Peter Schmitz; " at your time
of life you cannot give up the hope of seeing your ideal established in stern reality. I should hardly esteem you as
highly as I do if you were less sanguine in your hopes and
expectations. Every one of us has thought, at one time or
another, that the evils of society could be cured by communism or socialism; you might safely say that all the
founders of humane, religious systems have labored under
that mistake. But if the world could be cured by philanthropists, dear Wolfgang, we should long since have been in
paradise. But paradise is a dream; it has been, but never
can be again! We must construct our world on a different




The House of Hohenstein.          41I
basis-on the basis of law, of justice, of the solidarity of
interests. It is the glory of ardent hearts to be enthusiastic
about an ideal; but sober sense would be disgraced if it
continued in this error. I praise you for your mistake; but
I cannot pardon Munzer and Degenfeld for the same error.
You must come and see me as often as you can, and we will
discuss that matter; it will be a relief and an improvement
to both of us."
Wolfgang willingly accepted the invitation. Since his
mother's death the paternal house had become almost intolerable to him; here, in the company of good men, he felt
his grief soothed; here he could speak as he felt; here he
could take off the mask and show his true face. As he
avoided mentioning his other social relations, so they carefully abstained from touching upon them; and even Aunt
Bella, with her warlike spirit, seemed to be disposed to let
the matter rest, after having given vent, on the memorable
morning of Margaret's funeral, to her wrath against the
whole' kin."
In his intercourse with Ottilia a slight change had recently
taken place, which would not have escaped a more acute
observer.  The more frequently he met her and looked into
her clear, blue eyes, the more deeply he felt the charm of
her soft, sweet voice and her melodious laugh; the more
sympathy he found in her heart when discussing many things
which are generally far beyond the horizon of young girls,
and the more he had cause to admire her calm judgment
and the delicacy of her feelings, the stranger it seemed to
him that he should have fallen, from the beginning, into
such a familiar tone with this highly-endowed being, and the
more irresistibly he felt himself attracted by the lovely girl.
She, for her part, was precisely the same she had ever been.
Only Aunt Bella thought she noticed that her eyes had a
deeper brilliancy than formerly, and that she had become
more lively, energetic-" more of a Schmitz," as Aunt Bella
said. But the good lady did not see that Ottilia was no
sooner alone than she would sit and dream by the hour, till,
rousing herself from her revery, she would pass her hand
over her eyes, and say in a low voice to herself: "All, all
must change!"




4I2            The House of Hohenstein.
CHAPTER IV.
T    HE old general had now been two months in prison,
and still the investigation had brought no greater
clearness into this most mysterious affair. The public began to be impatient, and the presiding judge said to
his assistant that he would pay a round sum to get rid of the
troublesome matter. "In confidence, my dear Wyse," he
said, "I am in a most embarrassing position. You, a native of this province'and a Catholic like myself, will readily
understand that I should by no means dislike to see these
Hohensteins thoroughly humiliated. But if that is to be
done, it must be done promptly. Now that the matter has
been dragged on and on, the public are getting tired of it;
they complain of the slowness of justice, and fancy there is
nothing in it after all! And if that feeling were confined to
the public at large!-but just read this letter."
Mr. Wyse cast a glance at the letter. " From the Minister of Justice!" he exclaimed, surprised.
" Confidential and private; just read! " said the judge.
" It seems they desire, up there, that we-should discover
nothing! " said Mr. Wyse, after having read the letter.
"No doubt," was the reply. "But now read this."
"From the    "
"Hush, my dear sir, our Protestant clerk there must not
hear that-and in his own hand! What do you say now?"
"But how is this possible?"
"I can explain it to you! You recollect that among the
first witnesses examined, there was a mad old priest, a disagreeable man, who, I fear, is but a frail pillar of our most
holy church. We could not get much out of him; the only
remarkable circumstance was his confession that the old gentleman had recently shown very great restlessness in his intercourse with him, and expressed a wish to become a
Catholic. At that time I paid little attention to this assertion; it was as equivocal as almost everything that has as
yet been elicited in this trial. But now it looks as if this
priest had found means to gain the ear of our great head of
the church. I think there is a passage in the letter-please




The House of Hohensten.          4I3
let me see?-look here! what can that mean, except that
his holiness is interested in the matter? What can we do?
We also have a conscience, and —"
"If we could only find the corpus delicti!" said Wyse.
"As long as that is missing, the investigation is not closed."
" To be sure! To be sure! " remarked the other. " But
I have nearly given up all hope.  The whole graveyard has
been turned upside down, and we have found nothing, not a
trace-What do you want?"
" A letter by the city post! " said the messenger.
" What is it?" asked Wyse, when he saw his chief turn
deadly pale, while reading the letter.
" Well, this is certainly remarkable," said the judge. "It
looks as if there was no end to this mystery."
The letter consisted of a few lines, written in an evidently
much disguised hand, and ran thus:
" The grave of t t t which you are looking for, is not in
the graveyard near the chapel, but in Rheinfeld park, ten or
twelve yards behind the last tree of the large chestnut avenue, to the left of the decayed temple of friendship."
"What do you think of that? " asked the judge.
"It is a humbug."
"But it has to be examined, nevertheless. You must go
out there this afternoon, dear Wyse, with the doctor.  It
may be that the remains will not bear being removed."
"Then you really believe —? "
"I do not believe.  I am convinced.  Make haste, I
pray! "
Before Dr. Snepper drove out to Rheinfeld with AssistantJudge Wyse, he had a long conversation with President
Hohenstein; and when he returned late at night, a second
conversation, which was protracted till far into the night.
The doctor reported that the body had been found on the
precise spot designated in the letter, and remarkably well
preserved, as the soil consisted of almost pure sand. The
skull, especially, had been nearly perfect, and there was not
the slightest doubt that the man had been murdered, and by
a blow with an axe, exactly as Bridget had deposed.
When the doctor reached this point of his report, the
president started up from his chair, and walked with long
strides up and down in the room. The doctor sat, bent




414            The House of Hfohenstein.
double, in his chair, watching the excited man as a cat
watches a mouse which cannot escape, however anxiously it
may rush to and fro.
" I brought the skull with me," he said. " I keep it locked
up in my writing-table. No one has seen it but myself, not
even Wyse, who fortunately felt sick at the right moment.
If I produce the skull to-morrow as it is, your worthy uncle
loses his head, even if he were ten times an excellency. If I
produce it in such a shape that the man might possibly have
been killed by a fall-and the thing can be done by a little
clever management-the general is a free man day after tomorrow, as everybody in the highest regions of government
desires nothing more than to get rid of him."
" But, my dear sir, you talk as if there was any question
about the matter!" said the president.
The little man shrugged his shoulders.
" That depends on you, now!"
" But you know I am ready to do all you ask; I will call
you with pleasure my-"
The president did not generally hesitate much in telling a
little white lie, but this one would not come out boldly and
bravely.
"My son-in-law," supplied the doctor with a malicious
grin, to complete the phrase; "very good! But how is it
about my dear betrothed? will she pardon me my twenty
years or so too much, eh?"
" My daughter is accustomed to comply with the wishes
of her parents," said the president.
" Oh indeed? " cried the doctor. "You do not say so! I
always thought it was just the other way. If you can give
me no other security! "
" But what would you have, dear friend?"
" First, that you present me to-morrow, in presence of two
witnesses-say Willamowski and Kettenberg-as Camilla's
betrothed. I do not mean officially, but in words which,
without calling the thing by its name, have precisely the
same effect. Secondly, I must insist upon your pursuing
your old policy with regard to Wolfgang. I mean, that you
manage it so, through your brother, the colonel, as to compel
the man to leave the army, and to enable you thus to break
off the engagement on your part."




The House of Hohtenstein.         415
"I will do whatever you desire-whatever you desire,'.'
said the president, offering his long narrow hand to the
doctor.
"Then les beaux esprits se rencontrent, as usual," replied the
latter, accepting the tips of the fingers.
Two days later, the morning papers contained, under the
head of Local News, the following paragraph:
"We are happy to be able to inform our readers that the
judicial proceedings against a personage of the highest standing in the province, which were begun about two months
ago upon the affidavit of an ill-disposed servant, have come
to their natural conclusion, in consequence of very important and unexpected evidence which has quite recently come
to light. The accused has at once been set free again, to
the satisfaction of all who had known and revered him. He
immediately left, in company with his physician and a few
ladies, members of his family, for his chateau R. We hope
that the innocent victim of an abominable conspiracy may
soon recover from the effects of his sufferings, and enjoy a
long and peaceful evening at the close of his active and
most useful life."
CHAPTER V.
THE sudden termination of the great mystery, which, in
spite of the newspaper sentiment, no one had either
wished or expected, would no doubt have produced
a still greater sensation in the great world, if the thunderclouds which were just then rising on all sides of the political horizon had not exclusively pre-occupied the interest of
the public. The last spasms of the revolution were still
powerful enough at one place to shake the faith of a people
in the legitimacy of a government " by the grace of God;"
and in another country to upset it altogether, at least for a
time. The parliament had once more been dissolved, and
the province was again in a state of violent fermentation;
everywhere rebellion raised its flaming banner, encouraged




4I6            The House of Hohenstein.
by the fall of the powerful dynasty in the south, through
which the people had hoped to recover the unity and greatness of the common fatherland.
The stirring news which came in every day and every
hour, fell upon Wolfgang's soul like sparks of burning fire.
He had long since been accustomed to look upon the conflict
in his own soul as a reflex from the grand conflict which he
expected would soon break out among the nations of the
earth; and when he now heard the tocsin sound in all the
great cities, filled with barricades and enthusiastic bands of
armed men, he fancied it brought to him also a summons to
lay aside the bonds of untruthfulness and hypocrisy, and to
speak and act as his impatient heart desired.
In these meditations the painter Kettenberg interrupted
him, a few days later, entering at an unusually early hour, at
which the fast young man was not apt to be seen. Wolfgang
was rather surprised at Kettenberg's appearance. After a
few efforts to establish a kind of intimacy with the intelligent
and genial artist, he had given it up, and kept rather aloof
from him, especially since his intimacy with Willamowski,
Brinkman, Hinkel, Wyse, and men of that class, did not
seem to speak very favorably for his morals. During the
last few weeks, when he had been even less frequently than
before at the president's house, he had. almost lost sight of
the clever libertine; he only recollected that the last time
he had been in Willamowski's rooms, they had made great
fun-of the question whether Antonia Hohenstein was Kettenberg's last conquest or he hers?  He had taken little
interest in the question, for with Antonia also he had not
succeeded in establishing more intimate relations.
"You are surprised," said Kettenberg, after the first greeting, "to see me call so early; but I have to tell you several
matters of importance for you, and but little time for it. I
am going to leave town in two hours!"
"You are going to leave us?"
" Do not say that, as if you minded in the least whether
I go or stay! Such are men, however! No faith and no
truth from Dan to Beersheba. I am almost persuaded you
will not believe me if I tell you that I have a very high
opinion of you, that I feel very much concerned about your
welfare, and that I am about to give you the most striking




The House of Hohenstein.         4I7
evidence of my interest in you. But I must be brief; pray
listen attentively. First of all, a question. Have you recently heard from Camilla or her mother? No? I thought so.
They will not even write any more. They will try to starve
you out; they will try to force you to do what the honorable
company have not the courage to do themselves."
" But, Mr. Kettenberg, I really have not the pleasure-"
" To understand me I will speak more clearly-or better,
quite clearly at once. You are the victim of a rascally intrigue, my dear baron. I cannot tell you now, for want of
time, how I have found out all their tricks, but I give you
my word of honor that all is true. They have determined
in the family to drop you. It seems that the man who is to
succeed you in the happiness of being ruined by Camilla,
has quite recently rendered such eminent services to the
Hohenstein family that nothing but the most exalted reward is sufficient for him. This other man is, to tell you
that also, no one else but Doctor von Snepper-you laugh?
-you laugh heartily!-do so, but you may rely upon it that
the man who in two short months has gained his patent
of nobility and his title as privy-councillor, is also capable,
in spite of his sixty years, of cutting out a young lieutenant
of twenty-three, and of making happy a young lady of eighteen, endowed with a marvellously cool head and a really
arctic heart. However that may be, my friend Willamowski
and I, we have been entrusted with this arrangement, of
course under the seal of secrecy. What will you have? The
young lady makes a magnificent match! A minister's portefeuille for the happy husband-a superb mansion in William street in Berlin, presentation at court, a long train of admirers of every rank, from the royal prince to the youngest
chamberlain, among whom she has the choice. Happy
young wife! Dear baron, I tell you, angels have fallen for
the sake of a smaller guerdon; why not then a girl who, like
Camilla Hohenstein, has ever since she was born had a demon in her? Well! You are still laughing, and, to tell the
truth, I think you may laugh! Nevertheless, I beg leave to
remind you also of the serious side of your situation. They
are quite clever enough, you see, in the enemy's camp, to
know that the world always sides with youth and loyalty,
and that the stain which the late affair of the general has
I8*




4 8            The House of Hohenstein.
left on the Hohenstein escutcheon-in spite of the flaming
article in the morning papers-is not likely to become any
smaller by this match between so beautiful a young girl as
Camilla is, and such an old sinner as the new privy-councillor. They want, therefore, a pretext for breaking with
you, and think this can be best attained by inducing you to
quit the service-a step which would at the same time bring
upon you the displeasure of the old gentleman at Rheinfeld.
They have two ways for doing it. First, you will be annoyed
in your regimental duties, reprimanded by the colonel, and
like things. For you must know they have shown the colonel's family only a part of their cards, and want the fools
to believe that Cuno has, after your downfall, the first claim
and the best prospect to obtain the hand of the beautiful
Helen. Cuno is, of course, delighted with the project, and
determined to facilitate your retreat as far as he can; he
will therefore involve you in as many difficulties as possible.
Your intimacy with that pretty cousin in River street will
furnish them quite a dangerous weapon. Well, well, you
need not get angry! What are pretty cousins good for, except to be courted? And the girl is pretty! Sapristi / A
head like a Muse! I have rarely seen so fine a face, such
blue eyes, and such a thoughtful smile! I admire your taste,
and shall be delighted if you can give that awkward brute,
Cuno, a lesson. For Cuno is the discoverer of the beauty in
River street; he brags of the kind greetings he receives
from Miss Schmitz whenever he passes her window. Be
calm, my dear sir! Not a soul believes him; not even Cuno
himself, for he is thoroughly aware of his own miserable
character; and least of all does Willamowski, who in spite
of his fast way of living, is still at the bottom of his heart a
good fellow, and has positively refused to play any part in
this wretched intrigue. I think I can recommend the baron,
if you should ever feel called upon to ask some one to help
you in regulating certain affairs."
Kettenberg had allowed no interruption in the current of
his speech; now he took a cigar from his cigar-holder, lit it,
and said, leaning back in his chair:
"There, dear baron! I hope you are now sufficiently informed to find your way through this labyrinth. I saw the
other day that you could hold a pistol pretty steadily, and




The House of Hohenstein.         419
that you have a capital eye. With such talents and a stout
heart, I should think one could defy the devikhimself, much
less this small fry. Enough, therefore, about you; and now
a few words about myself. I should not like you, above all
others, to think badly of me after I leave; and besides, you
can render me a service in a matter to which I can unfortunately not attend before I go. I do not know, dear Hohenstein, if you have heard that I am paying my attentions to
your beautiful aunt-what a number of beautiful women you
have in your family; you lucky fellow!  You know it?
Well! If you had not been told, I could have furnished
you with evidence. Antonia and myself are quite accidentally leaving town to-day by the same train, and I should
not wonder if we were to travel some distance together.
Well, that does not concern anybody, since neither I nor the
baroness are so situated as to owe much respect to the world
at large. My principle is, never to inquire after the antecedents of ladies whom I admire; but unfortunately the fair
baroness has been as good a friend of Doctor Munzer as
she is now-eh bien-for the moment, of mine. At least I
surmise so, from the fact that she always becomes more or
less excited when the good doctor's name is mentioned, and
I am almost afraid she is going to Egypt with me, not because she likes me, but because Doctor Munzer has ceased
to like her. To be sure, I do not care-if she only goes.
I love the East, and I love beautiful women; they belong together; neither of them can stand in the light of sober common sense. However, I did not mean to give you a lecture
on morals or asthetics; but only to beg you will tell your
friend, that if he wishes to hold me responsible for Antonia's
caprice, I shall be as ready, after my return, to make a fool
of myself as he may be. I only hope heaven will postpone
my return for a long while! You can also tell him that I
could not well make the offer now, as I really think a man
ought not to waste powder before he is quite sure of that
for which two people are going to kill each other. And now,
dear baron, farewell! You'll excuse my leaving so unceremoniously, but I have a whole world to attend to, and very
little time left. Addio!"
Kettenberg shook hands with Wolfgang and hurried away.
Wolfgang was at first almost stunned by all he had heard;




420            The House of Hohenstein.
then a sense of relief came over him that the hour had at
last arrived when a decision was to be made, and he could
act. He did n6t doubt the truth of Kettenberg's statements.
The painter was very acute of sight and of hearing; he
knew the details of the president's home-life very accurately;
and what he had not seen and heard himself, he no doubt
had learned from Aurelia, whose confidant he still was; or
from Willamowski, who, as Aurelia's betrothed, had not
ceased to be the friend of Aurelia's faithless lover. Besides,
all that Kettenberg had stated was perfectly in keeping
with the character of the persons concerned. Camilla, the
betrothed of a fanatical monarchist, a gray-haired dandy, a
libertine of worst repute! The charmer had cast aside her
disguise and shown herself in her true nature. How often
he had accused himself of ingratitude in former days, when
doubts had arisen in his heart as to the real character of his
beloved! How he had looked everywhere for reasons by
which he could explain this or that objectionable feature, to
find one naive, and the other at least harmless! All that was
over now, and heaven be thanked for it! As he had been
relieved of the bonds of an unworthy love, so he would be
relieved of other bonds also-his dependence on an old, mysterious man, whose brutal violence was a type of the whole
race; his connection with an institution which was so sadly
behind the times, and acknowledged by all lovers of liberty to
be the principal obstacle to success in a revolution; and his
intercourse with men whom he despised as thoroughly as he
did his noble cousins and their friends! And what was
that Kettenberg had said about Cuno's impudence in speaking of Ottilia? It was evidently a pure invention of the
fool's-otherwise Aunt Bella would no doubt have mentioned'it at some time or other. But the mere thought that something
of the kind could ever happen, the mere circumstance that
the scoundrel should have taken Ottilia's name in vain in a
circle of low men-this revolted Wolfgang, and filled his
heart with more hatred and thirst for revenge than he had
ever felt in his life. And what was that story about Munzer, Antonia, and Kettenberg? The very companion-piece
to his own inglorious love affair! Had Antonia really loved
Munzer? And had she been able to sacrifice a Munzer to
Kettenberg?




The House of Hohenstein.         421
Thus, here was again a cunning, intriguing beauty, who
lured a man bent upon very different purposes from his
sphere, and then betrayed him in the most shameless manner! The same comedy, scene for scene, only the names
differed.  But put Munzer for Wolfgang, Antonia for
Camilla, Snepper for Kettenberg, Clara for-Ottilia-for
Ottilia! If I had known-if I had loved her-and is not
to know to love her?-if I had known her before I went to
Rheinfeld-this would never have happened! never! Oh,
that it could be undone! That I could become again what
I was before this ill-fated change took place!  Could?
Why, what hinders me? The best of mothers would smile
upon me approvingly if she saw me break these unworthy
chains! Uncle, Aunt Bella, Ottilia-they would all call me
their own once more; but father? father?-what would he
say? It is true, he also has changed his views about this
matter. And Munzer? and Degenfeld?
Wolfgang had not time to answer all these questions, for
the hour had come when he must appear on parade, and he
had to be very quick if he was not to be too late.
These parades, with their long hours of busy idleness, had
from the beginning disgusted Wolfgang, and to-day the horror seemed to be unending. Those who were initiated in
the mysteries of the service, soon saw that there was something important under way. In the first place, the five generals of whom the garrison at Cologne could boast, put theii
heads together; then the "commanders of regiments " were
ordered up, then the " staff officers," then the "captains,'
then again the "staff officers," then the " captains," and
finally' all officers."
When the large circle was formed, when all right hands
were raised regulation fashion to the helmets, and the gentlemen in the inner ring had drawn their heels close together
-those outside were not quite so conscientious-the commanding-general, Count Schnabel, said: "Gentlemen! I
have to communicate various matters of importance. The
hour has come for you to show your courage. The flag of
rebellion against our most gracious sovereign has been raised
in our province, in the country immediately around us. Be
it far from me to assume that the doctrines of men who forget their duty to God and break their oaths of allegiance,




422           The House of Hohenstein.
can have entered the heart of any one among you; that any
one could for a moment forget that the sword he wears at
his side has been given him by his most gracious sovereign,
and that he is responsible to no power on earth but to him
-it is a matter of course that all of you here assembled have
no other thought than to live and to die for the throne and
the altar, the two holiest of holy things. But, gentlemen,
many of you are still young, and do not know that there is
no remedy against treason and disloyalty but force; and
therefore I should like to address a few words of paternal
admonition to my younger comrades. Do not allow yourselves to be deceived by the mask of honest conviction behind which these traitors love to conceal their hideous features. Tear the mask down! Do not enter into discussions
with these rebels! Show them that you wear your swords
for a purpose, and consider that it is better one innocent
man should die than that many guilty men should escape
unscathed. Do not forget for a moment that the eye of our
august commander-in-chief rests on you; that you-I repeat
it to impress it forcibly on your mind-that you are responsible to him alone, and that his wish and will is the only
rule for what you must do and must not do. Thus, and
thus only, you will be sure to please our august master;
thus and thus only you will prove yourselves worthy of your
fathers, who have shed their blood for throne and altar. This
is what I wished to say to you. I thank you, gentlemen!"
The parade had come to an end; only Colonel Hohenstein, as usual, found something more to do. The sergeants
on duty were running to and fro; the company clerks wrote
their tablets full; at'last the little adjutant, Baron Fitzwitz,
cried: " Gentlemen, all the officers."
The officers of the ninety-ninth infantry regiment formed
a circle around their colonel, Baron Hohenstein.
The colonel looked as black as a thunder-cloud, and his
voice sounded rougher and hoarser than usual as he snarled
out, fixing his piercing eyes incessantly upon Wolfgang:
" You have heard, gentlemen, what the general has just said.
Remember it, and mind especially that in the regiment
which I have the honor to command, not the faintest shadow
of republican principles will be tolerated.  I thank you!
Lieutenant Baron Hohenstein! "




The House of Hohenstein.          423
The other officers went back to their places; Wolfgang
remained standing before the colonel.
" I only wish to tell you, my son, that you must take especial care, if you desire to wear your sword much longer
at your side!"
" I conclude from your mode of address," replied Wolfgang, " that you do not speak to me as colonel and commander of the regiment, but as my father's brother, and
therefore I answer, that I cherish those republican principles
which have been so violently decried, and that I do not desire to wear this sword one moment longer than I can be
relieved of that honor in a suitable manner."
A dark smile flitted across the colonel's dark face.
"And if I were to speak to you not as uncle but as your
commander, what then, Lieutenant Baron Hohenstein? "
"Then I should say the same, only in a different form,
colonel."
" Very well, lieutenant, very well! May I ask for your
sword, lieutenant?"
" That means, colonel?"
" Baron Fitzwitz!"
" Colonel!"
"You will carry Baron Hohenstein instantly to Fort St.
Sebastian.  Upon my responsibility!  I shall report the
matter at once to his excellency."
"Will you-please follow me, Baron Hohenstein? " asked
the aid-de-camp, who had turned very pale.
"Certainly, Baron Fitzwitz!" said Wolfgang, and then,
stepping up to the colonel, in a low voice: " You carry out
the orders you have received very promptly, colonel. I
hope you will take care not to let the reward escape you. It
would be a pity if you had disgraced yourself for nothing.
I am at your service, baron!"
From the parade-ground it was not very far to Fort St.
Sebastian. Ensign Odo, who was on guard there, made a very
foolish face when the adjutant, who was still very pale, delivered to him Lieutenant Baron Hohenstein as under arrest.
As Wolfgang was walking down the long, narrow passage
to the room which was assigned to officers under arrest, following the two officers, the sergeant who was behind him
whispered:




424            The House of Hohenstein.
" You shall not be long imprisoned, sir."
Wolfgang thought he recognized the voice of Sergeant
Ruchel; but the dim light in the passage did not allow him
to convince himself whether he had been right.
A few moments later he found himself, a prisoner, in the
same low, damp room from which he had a few months ago
released his uncle Peter.
In the large garden-room of the " Green Glass," where,
under tall chestnut-trees and thick shrubbery, beer and wine
were consumed in enormous quantities, there was to-night
unusual life and merriment.  The jovial landlord had
opened a small keg of superior wine for his special friends
assembled in that room.
The jovial landlord of the " Green Glass" must have been
richly blessed with special friends, for the company which
had assembled there had grown by nine o'clock to the number of a hundred and fifty or two hundred. Nor could he
be called very fastidious in the ch6ice of his friends, for except a few persons who evidently belonged to the upper
classes of society, the great majority were men in blouses,
with powerful hands and very daring faces.
The company conversed in small groups with suppressed
voices, but in the most animated manner, and here and
there almost violently. It was easy to see that whatever
the topic might be, the views of the persons present were
divided, and that it would be a difficult task for any man to
unite these hot-blooded, passionate men for one common
purpose. As yet, no one seemed to feel equal to such a
task; on the contrary, there was an expression of doubt on
all faces, and at the same time of intense expectation.
"They will disappoint us; I always said so! " growled a
slim fellow, with a hungry, cunning face.
"Hold your tongue! " said another; " you want to frighten others as you are frightened."
"I frightened? Blackguard!" cried the first, knocking
with his hand on the table.
" Hush, gentlemen! Is that a way for men to talk who
are doing outpost service in the face of the enemy? " said a
man who had just entered the hall in company with a friend.
"The doctor! the doctor! " a low murmur ran through




1le House of Hohenstein.          425
the whole hall; then followed deep silence. There was no
doubt the man for whom they had all been waiting, had
come at last, and now they would find advice and help in
their uncertainty.
Munzer placed himself behind the table which had purposely been pushed close to the wall on the small side of the
room, and said in a low voice, which was yet distinctly heard
all over the hall: "The assembly is opened! Before we
proceed to the order of the day, I wish to present to the
meeting my friend, Major Degenfeld! "
The major, who stood by Munzer, bowed.
"I need hardly inform the meeting," continued Munzer,
"that this gentleman has taken the usual oath. In the next
place, I think I ought to remind you of the necessity of consulting and of acting to-day more than ever in a spirit of
unity and fraternity. The order of the day is to consult on
what we ought to do in view of the actual state of affairs in
our land, and of the events which have just taken place in
our immediate neighborhood. Has any gentleman a proposition to offer?"
" Yes! " said a deep voice from a dark corner in the hall.
"Doctor Holm! "
There was a great commotion in the assembly while Doctor Holm, accompanied by Peter Schmitz, made his way
through the crowd towards the speaker's stand. " How did
he get here? "-" He ought not to be allowed to come here! "
-"Turn him out! "-" Knock him down! " Thus a hundred voices grumbled and growled all around.
Munzer had turned very pale when he heard Doctor
Holm's name; but he regained his composure quickly, and
said in a rough voice: " If anybody speaks without permission from the chair, I shall instantly resign the office you
have bestowed upon me. Doctor Holm has the floor! "
Holm had ascended the speaker's stand, not without some
trouble; it consisted of a few empty barrels, on which a
door had been laid. He took off his large straw-hat, first to
bow to the meeting, and then more especially to wipe off
the perspiration from his high forehead. Then he looked
with kindly, serious eyes around in the dimly-lighted hall,
and said:
"Gentlemen! I know you wonder at my presence here,




426            The House of Hohenstein.
but I trust you will not refuse one of the first founders of
the Republican Club the right to attend its meetings, although I have not for some time availed myself of my privilege. To-day my friend Schmitz and I have come here,
because we considered it our solemn duty to prevent by all
the means in our power the forming and adopting of a resolution the execution of which will be your certain ruin. You
need not murmur and cough, gentlemen, or at least do it
only when I have done, for it is not easy to speak in this damp
atmosphere, and the greater quiet you observe, the sooner
you may hope to get rid of me again. I shall be very brief.
You are all of you, I am sure, ready to fight and to die; but
you are also, all of you, clever enough neither to fight nor
to risk your lives for the man in the moon. What do you
care for the moon? What do you care for the man up there?
Nothing! You do not dream of him. And you are perfectly right not to dream of him. You are sober, sensible
men; you want none of the old mediaeval stuff which they
have pulled out of some old lumber-room in Frankfurth.
You do not want a re-hash of the Middle Ages. You want
new times; you want a pure, democratic republic.  The
idea of such a republic, however, does not bear being mixed
up with questions about a German empire, or this or that
constitution. The republic is pure and chaste; you must
keep it jealously like the apple of your eye, like the memory
of your father and mother, like the innocence of your
children. Republicanism is as old as mankind, and immortal like the genius of humanity. All that is great and good
upon earth has come from this source; whatever great and
good things are yet to be done on earth, must come from it.
If you stand by this principle, and suffer for it all, even
death, I may call you rash and thoughtless, but I shall ever
respect you as men who have been true to their principles.
But if you abandon this principle, you will not only lose
yourselves all faith in this palladium of mankind, but you
will also cease to be witnesses for the truth, and messengers
of liberty for others. Therefore, I advise you, stand by
simple republicanism, but do not follow the great mass of
those who risk their all for a false principle, and must therefore succumb!'
Doctor Holm drew forth his red-silk handkerchief to wipe




The House of Hohenstein.          427
the perspiration from his bald head, and stepped down, supported by Peter Schmitz.  It was evident that the brave
man's simple words had made some impression, for there
followed deep silence when he had ended, and a low murmur of applause passed through the assembly. What Munzer
might have thought of the speech of his former friend, could
only be -guessed, for he sat at his table, resting his head in
his hand, and remained in the same position even while saying in a low voice: " Is it the pleasure of the assembly to
discuss Doctor Holm's proposition?"
"Yes!" said Peter Schmitz.
" I shall be very brief," said Peter Schmitz, when he had
mounted the platform. "I only wish, as a practical politician,
to add a practical commentary to what my friend Holm, a
man of ideas, has told you. He told you:'Fight and suffer
death for a principle, if it must be.' I tell you: It must not
be, must not be now; and because it must not be, it shall not
be! In politics success is all. An enterprise undertaken
without all or any hope of success, is sure to fall under the
curse of becoming ridiculous. To rise just now in arms,
would be such an enterprise, doomed to failure. A year
ago, I was the most zealous advocate of armed rebellion in
this club. Then, when we still were in the first rapture of
enthusiasm, everything was possible. But now, when the
cowards remember their fears, the rich their wealth, and the
powerful their might, now every hope of success has disappeared, and he who promises you success deceives himself
and you."
At these words, which seemed to be aimed directly at
Munzer, a threatening murmur ran through the assembly.
But Peter Schmitz was not the man to be intimidated thus.
"Yes! " he cried, fixing his dark, bright eyes upon Munzer; "I repeat: deceives, intentionally or unintentionally,
himself or you, or perhaps both. He does it all the more certainly as his higher intelligence must enable him to distinguish between appearances and reality, and to foresee the
result of such an enterprise, which would be not an act of
heroism, but a Quixotic venture; not a work in which men willingly risk their lives, but wanton sport. You may murmur
and threaten as you choose at a man who dares to speak a
free word according to his best knowledge and conscience!




428            The House of Hohenstein.
I repeat it: he is not a hero who advises you to risk your
all for naught, but a reckless or desperate gambler, be he
who he may! "
Peter Schmitz had no sooner spoken the rash word than the
ill-restrained indignation of Munzer's adherents broke out
in a storm. They murmured and groaned and hissed and
stamped, and amid the uproar the words were heard:
" Down with him! "-" We'll pay him for it! "-" Don't let
him leave the place alive!"
Munzer rose from his seat: " Silence!"  His eyes flashed
over the crowd, which obeyed but reluctantly. Then he
turned to Schmitz. " Have you finished? "
" I have! " said Peter Schmitz, leaving the platform.
"Does any other gentleman wish to speak on Doctor
Holm's proposition: to do nothing for the present?"
" I! " exclaimed a deep, hoarse voice, and the locksmith
Christopher Unkel pushed his way through the bystanders,
and leaped upon the speaker's stand.
It was a wild, weird figure, this man of the people, in his
dirty blouse, with the black, bushy hair, which hung dishevelled in wild locks over the low forehead, and almost over
the savagely burning eyes. Resting his enormous hands on
his hips, or dealing powerful blows on the air, he stood there
and cried, in a voice hoarse with rage:
" What's the use of talking? Smooth words won't do it.
Who is not for us is against us, and may go to the devil!
Down with the aristocrats! Down with all hypocrites! If
certain people can wait till the roast pigeons come flying
into their mouths, we poor folks have not time. Our wives
are hungering; our children are hungering; we ourselves
draw the belt tighter when it growls below, or we drown our
misery in liquor. There must be an end to that. We are
just as good as they; we'll show them something; we'll —"
"Citizen Unkel!" said Munzer, interrupting the raging
man, "what you say is not relevant. You are out of order,
and you had better let others have the floor now."
Christopher Unkel cast an angry look at Munzer, but he
dared not contradict him openly, but jumped down, murmuring some unintelligible words. In his place Cajus mounted
the tribune.
Cajus enjoyed great popularity in the Republican Club.




The House of Hohenstein.          429
The mystery which surrounded the man captivated the crowd
as much as the unchangeable dark expression which never
left his face, and the fearful consistency with which he followed out the last conclusions of his radical views. At first,
well known as Munzer's warmest adherent, he had by means
of these qualities and their steadily increasing prominence,
succeeded very soon in forming a party of his own, by means
of which he not unfrequently opposed Munzer's views successfully. As soon, therefore, as his huge form, dressed in
his coarse, white frieze coat, appeared on the stand, deep
silence ensued.
" Unkel is right," he said; "we have not met here to talk;
but Unkel does not know what he wants. I know it, and I
will tell you. We must strike a great blow to revive our
courage. This blow must be struck secretly, for we are not
strong enough for open rebellion; it must be struck promptly,
or the enemy will recover from his fright, and we have risked
all in vain. A quick, secret blow means a surprise, and that
is what I propose. You all know Fort Sebastian; he who
holds Fort Sebastian is master of the city. The master of
the city controls the province, and he who rules in the province can combine with the South and proclaim the Republic
here in the West. The question is how to gain possession
of Fort Sebastian? I know a postern through which we
can reach, unperceived, the guard-house of-the fort. This
postern will be opened to us this evening at ten o'clock by a
sergeant of the guard, whom I have enlisted in our cause,
after he had sworn the usual oaths according to our statutes,
and for whom I engage to be personally responsible. The
garrison must be cut down-as a matter of course. They
count sixty men. Sixty men, surprised and scattered here
and there, are easily overpowered by thirty or forty men who
keep together and are not afraid of death. Once in the fort,
we cannot be conquered except by starving us out. Either
the town and the whole province declare in our favor-and I
believe the first gun fired in honor of a republic will have
that effect-or they forsake us. In the first case Germany
is a republic within a month; in the latter case we blow up
the fort, with ourselves, when our last loaf of bread is consumed."
Not a feature in Cajus's dark face had changed while he




430            The House of Hohensteim.
developed this terrible project, and he left the stand as
calmly as he had ascended.
But his fanatical words had set the over-wrought brains on
fire. A shudder ran through the whole assembly, and a low
murmur of applause, interrupted by wild, incoherent words,
which fell like drops of oil into a flame on the hearts of the
excited crowd.
"Who desires to discuss the last proposition?" asked
Munzer.
Peter Schmitz leaped upon the stand.
" I do not wish to belong any longer to an assembly which
can discuss seriously, for a single moment, a project so
insane, so utterly impossible of execution, so certain to
bring ruin upon us all. I herewith resign my membership
of this club, I -"
The storm which had broken forth at these words of Peter
Schmitz, drowned the rest. Curses and threats fell upon
him from all sides; heavy hands were shaken at him, and
in one corner of the hall a dense crowd formed around a
man who roared louder than the others: " I must kill him,
the traitor! give way! "
This was the locksmith, ChristopherUnkel, who overcame
by his immense bodily strength the opposition of the more
sensible bystanders, and now rushed upon Schmitz, waving
his large knife wildly in the air. Munzer started up from
his chair and threw himself in the way of the madman.
"Only across my body, Christopher; you shall not touch
Peter Schmitz," he cried; " as long as I live, not a hair on
his head shall be touched. Strike, if you dare! "
Christopher stood gazing at Munzer like a niadman at his
keeper. He dropped his weapon and slunk aside, still murmuring wild threats.
"Go!" said Munzer to Peter Schmitz and Holm; "I
doubt whether I can protect you much longer!"
"You ought to come with us, Munzer," replied Holm, in
a whisper; "it would be the greatest service you ever did to
yourself and the good cause."
"You may be right," answered Munzer; "but what you
suggest is no longer in my power. Farewell! "
He shook hands with the two men and escorted them
through the crowd, who readily gave way, to the door of the




The House of Hohenstein.         431
hall; then he returned to his speaker's chair, and whispered
some words to Degenfeld, who was seriously troubled and
almost terrified at all he had seen and heard here, although
for Munzer's sake he tried to preserve externally the greatest
calmness.
" You see something must be done," whispered Munzer.
"I cannot go back. Do not join your fate to mine; leave
me to my fate."
" I do not mean to forsake you," replied Degenfeld;  but
surely you cannot consent to such a mad project as that of
Cajus? Propose to these people the other plan I suggested
to you on our way to this place. It is mad enough, to be
sure, but it has at least a chance of success."
"And would you really help us in carrying it out?"
"Yes!" said Degenfeld, after a short pause.
Munzer made no use whatever of his great eloquence, by
which he had so often held large assemblies as if by a charm.
He spoke calmly, without enthusiasm, almost coldly. He
seemed to desire that his listeners should see the thing in
its naked truth; he said so, in fact, openly. "I do not
wish," he said, "that anybody should hereafter come and
say:'You tempted me away from wife and children by presenting to me brilliant images of success.' All who wish to
join me in the plan which I shall propose presently must
leave their wives and children; they must not ask what
father or mother will say to it; they must not mind it though
the children of the world laugh them to scorn. All who
follow me must leave hope behind."
He explained to them then, in a few words, the plan Degenfeld had proposed. It was simply to raise as many men
as they could, to throw them into a town at some little distance,
where the revolution had been momentarily successful; and
in case they should be unable to hold the place, to join the
revolutionary army which was about to be organized in the
South.
Generally the assembly approved of the plan, and the
only objection raised concerned the question how arms
could be procured in so short a time; for the plan had to be
carried out this very night, as on the following day a portion
of the garrison of Cologne was to be sent against the rebellious town. All kinds of impossible propositions were made,




432            The House of Hohenstezt.
till at last Cajus solved the difficulty. He reminded them
of the fact that Castle Rheinfeld lay on the way to that
town, and that at the castle they would find one of the largest collections of arms in the country. The house was perfectly defenceless; in half an hour the work could be done.
Joyous applause rewarded the speaker; everybody saw
himself already armed with excellent rifles, hunting knives,
pistols, and daggers, and this bright prospect inflamed the
courage of the more timid. Munzer and Degenfeld dared
not oppose so promising a plan. The immediate gain was
so evident, that moral scruples were comparatively of no
weight. "He whose conscience was too tender to employ
the superfluities of an aristocrat in the service of the country and of liberty, might stay at home; the country and the
cause of liberty would not be the losers."
These words, which Cajus addressed to the meeting, carried them away in rapturous applause.'The expedition was
decided upon; the question arose now-How? Here also
Cajus, with his fanaticism, provided counsel, as he was evidently for the moment far more influential with the assembly
than Munzer. As the gates of the city were closed at ten, the
members of the club were to leave town, singly, or at best
in small groups of not more than three, between nine and
ten, consequently immediately after the close of the meeting,
and through all the town-gates at once. A large meadow,
bordering upon the highroad about a mile from town, and
near the first village on the way, was agreed upon as the
place of rendezvous. The conspirators were to recognize
each other by the watchword "Liberty," to which the reply
"Death " was to be given.
"Who left the hall just now?" cried Munzer, who had
seen a light fall from the garden into the dark room. No
one, however, had noticed the person who had gone out.
"There are no traitors in our midst now," cried Christopher.
"You have opened the door for them yourself!"
They had all left the place through a little side door
which opened from the garden upon a dark alley. Munzer
and Degenfeld had been the last; they were slowly walking
down the alley.
"I appear to myself like the sorcerer's apprentice, who
had conjured up a ghost and could not lay it again," said




The House of Hohenstein.         433
Munzer. "The storm that fell upon us from the hot breath
of these men must have its victim. I know that, and I have
not resisted, but I am sorry to have drawn you into our common ruin. I am very, very sorry for that, my noble friend."
" Do-you think," replied the other, " I would consider myself bound to carry out a plan which I have not voluntarily
determined upon, if I saw any other way out of the dilemma? I have gone too far to retrace my steps, or to wish to
do so, even if I could. Besides, what matters it, after all?
I stand alone in the world, as probably few men do.. I
have no one to care for, except perhaps Wolfgang, who takes
a real interest in me, or in whom I am really interested. I
am glad now I remained true to my resolution not to initiate
him further into our plans; I should not like the responsibility of having involved him in this adventure! I am
alone-but you, my friend, did you think of your wife and
your children? "
" I have no wife and no children! " said Munzer, gloomily.
Degenfeld touched his arm with his hand.
"You have of late hinted at such a thing repeatedly," he
said. " How am I to understand that? "
"It is an old story," said Munzer. "A man loves a
strange woman, or thinks he loves her, till this woman
throws herself into another man's arms. In the meantime
he has lost his own wife, and when he now stands there, forsaken and betrayed on all sides, and fooled by fate, what
can he do better than to blow out his brains, or to find his
way out of this world in some other pleasant way? And
are we not about to do that? Good-by, my friend; in half
an hour at the large meadow near the highroad!"
----
CHAPTER VII.
EARLY at the same time when at the " Green Glass"
such treasonable resolves were formed under Munzer's-presidency, the city fathers were deliberating at
the City Hall, under the presidency of Chief Burgomaster
I9




434       T     he House of Hrohenstein.
Doctor Dasch, on the steps which were to be taken, under
such threatening circumstances, to secure the property and
the lives of the good citizens. The jovial landlord of the
" Green Glass " had informed them already, in the afternoon,
that the Republican Club, of which the jovial landlord was a
prominent member, would hold a decisive meeting at night,
in his rooms; and in the course of the evening secret messages had arrived once or twice from there, giving accurate
accounts of the progress of the debates. Each one of these
messages had poured oil into the fire of excitement and anguish which burned in the hearts of the city fathers. The
chief burgomaster wiped his perspiring face repeatedly, and
showed himself every moment less able to direct the incessant and stormy discussions which agitated the assembly
around the green table. There were just as many views as
to what ought to be done, as there were heads; the confusion was at its height. Alderman Heydman & Co., Senator
Wester, and other naturally anxious minds, besought the assembly to resort at once to extreme measures, and to stifle
the flame of rebellion in the blood of its authors. "We
have them all together now," cried Mr. Heydman & Co.,
"let us strike before they strike us. With every minute of
delay our danger increases. Do not think of forbearance;
the time for that is gone by; let us summon the military and
surround the hall in which the rebels are; they are desperate men, but with help from on high, our brave soldiers will
no doubt succeed in mastering them, and at the very first
sign of resistance they ought to cut them down without
mercy."
These bloodthirsty suggestions met with no opposition
except on the part of a few, under the leadership of Lawyer
Kattebolt.
" The measures proposed by the other side are as cruel as
unpracticable," he exclaimed. "We fnay bet ten to one
that this meeting of the Republican Club will come to no
practical conclusion, like a great many other meetings; and
even if this were not so, we are forewarned and can at any
moment command forces infinitely superior to anything they
can ever bring into the field. I am in favor of waiting till the
adversary furnishes us with a good reason for attacking him;
else we shall strike the innocent with the guilty!"




The House of Hohenstein.         435
" In a murderer's den there are no innocent!" cried Mr.
Wester.
"Especially if we declare everybody a murderer and robber who happens to differ with us in opinion," replied Mr.
Kattebolt.
These words called forth the utmost indignation of the
assembled fathers. They exclaimed against unwarrantable
recklessness and criminal indifference, and came little short
of accusing both men of being in secret league with the
"rebels."
Mr. Kattebolt was by no means disconcerted by the storm
that was raging against him.
"What do you want of me, gentlemen?" he said. "You
act as if I, a single man, could prevent you from carrying
out your purposes. Do what you think you ought to do, but
consider that your excessive apprehensions conjure up the
very danger which you wish to avoid, that violent measures
will only add fuel to the excitement, and give the whole thing
an importance which I, and I believe every sober-minded
man, think it does not deserve. This fire will go out if you
do not feed it; but if you put your foot incautiously upon
the embers, the sparks will be sure to fly about, and you need
not wonder if your houses and your factories are burnt to
the ground, and despair commits deeds such as mere discontent would never have conceived."
" You can talk," cried Mr. Wester, " for you have no factories to be burnt."
" Is it a crime, perhaps, not to be a factory owner?"
The storm arose once more with increased fury; the chief
burgomaster rang his bell in vain; and who knows what
ridiculous and disgraceful scenes might yet have taken place
amid the excited city fathers, if at that moment Pitter, the
messenger, had not rushed in, with deadly-pale countenance,
to whisper a message into the chief burgomaster's ear.
Anxious silence immediately reigned in the terrified
assembly.
Mr. Willibrod Dasch rose and said in a voice which terror
had made hoarse and almost inaudible: "Gentlemen! The
landlord of the'Green Glass' is without, and wishes to be
heard; he brings news of the utmost importance from the
Republican Club.  I pray, gentlemen, receive his report




436           The House of Hohenstein.
with becoming calmness and composure. Bring the man in,
Pitter!"
The jovial landlord of the "Green Glass," honest tMr.
Putz, came into the council-room, ushered by the messenger,
bowed awkwardly to the assembled fathers, and grinned all
over his ugly face.
"Sit down, Mr. Putz," groaned the burgomaster, " and tell
us what you have to report."
"Not much that is good, gentlemen," he replied, after
having availed himself of the permission to sit down; " the
cat is out of the bag, and you will have trouble enough to put
it back again. At this very moment they are all leaving
town, through all the town-gates at once, two or three thousand men. Then they march to Castle Rheinfeld, where
old General Hohenstein lives; there they mean to procure
arms, and after that to ring the tocsin of rebellion in all the
surrounding villages. Then they want to come back with
the peasants and set the city on fire in every district, till not
a stone remains standing; and then they want to kill everybody who resists; only the women and the money are to
be distributed equally. Yes, gentlemen, our little money!
Above all, they mean to plunder the safes of the merchants
and all the rich people. It is awful, gentlemen, I tell you.
My hair stands on end when I think of what I have. heard.
It's awful, I tell you."
The jovial landlord grinned once more; then he recollected how little that agreed with his words, and suddenly
assumed a solemn air, crossing himself and lifting up his
swollen, twinkling eyes to the ceiling.
The fathers looked at each other; this was beyond their worst
apprehensions. Alderman Heydman & Co. wrung his hands
and said he was undone. In vain did Mr. Kattebolt represent how improbable some of the landlord's statements were,
and how unreliable altogether a man was who thus became
a traitor to his own party. They cried that they had
heard enough of his advice, that he ought to be silent now,
and not make himself more liable still to being suspected.
The common distress restored unanimity among the others
very promptly. In a surprisingly short time the necessary
measures had been agreed upon. A deputation was to wait
on General Count Hinkel-Gackel, the commandant of the




The House of Hotzenstein.          437
city, to ask him to order the town-gates to be closed at once,
and a sufficiently strong force to go in pursuit of the rebels,
in order to surprise them, if possible, before they could reach
Rheinfeld, and to cut them down without mercy. For the
town itself other measures were proposed. As the expedition to Rheinfeld could not be expected back before twelve
o'clock, an order was issued that from that hour every window should be suitably lighted up, and the public buildings
should be occupied by all the troops which the commanding
officer could spare. Besides this, all public funds should be
immediately examined by special commissioners and transported to safe places; so that if they could not be protected
finally against the lawless murderers, and a general sack
should take place, the means would at least be on hand to
ascertain the precise amount of loss inflicted by the banditti!
When the deputation had been chosen to wait on the
commandant, and they were on the point of nominating special commissioners to examine the books and the funds in
the town treasury, it was found to the astonishment of
many members that Alderman Hohenstein had disappeared
during the boundless confusion which had for some time
prevailed in the room. It could not be ascertained at
what period of the transactions he had left. Some thought
they had seen him only a few minutes ago; others insisted
upon his having absented himself more than half an hour since.
But all recollected that he had shown. unusual apathy during the discussion, and that he had looked very pale and
haggard. They agreed that he had probably felt unwell,
and had gone home quietly so as to avoid making a sensation. They regretted that they had to disturb him, as his
presence was of course absolutely necessary during the examination of the treasury. One of the council messengers
was, therefore, sent off to request Alderman Baron Hohenstein to come back, and if that should be impossible, to send
at least the keys of the treasury.
After these measures had been taken, the burgomaster
sent off the different deputations, while the remaining members of the city council declared themselves en permanence
under the presidency of their much-tried chief.




438            The House of Hohenstein.
CHAPTER VIII.
AS soon as one of the alderman's special adversaries
had suggested the examination of the treasury, he
had risen from the council-table and joined a small
group of colleagues who were too deeply excited to keep
their seats quietly. Then he had walked towards the door,
apparently only to stretch his legs after sitting so long, and
had left the room, favored by the indifferent light in the
enormous hall, without being observed, at the moment when
the proposed measure had been adopted by acclamation.
He passed the few persons whom he met in the anteroom and the great hall of the building, very swiftly. In
the consternation, which had already spread from the council-hall to the clerks and messengers, no one paid any attention to him. When he reached the square, he drew a long
breath; he was comparatively safe now; they could not
easily overtake him. And even if they had cut off the retreat to his home, the river could be reached in a few minutes
by some of the by-streets. Who could stop him if he were
to run up the bridge to some distance, and then throw himself suddenly over the railing?
He paused and looked back at the council-hall; the light
was shining dimly through the high windows; he thought he
saw several persons approach the windows and look down
upon the square. They would find it difficult to discover
him in the darkness; but every minute he lost made it less
easy for him to carry out his plan, and so he hurriedly took
the way home.   He found a kind of satisfaction in the
thought that he would be able to blow out his brains like a
gentleman, in his own room, on his own sofa, and with his
own pistols. Death itself he feared little.
He had familiarized himself with the thought of death
for several months. The hope he had cherished at first,
that with assistance from the general he might be able to replace the stolen sum, had grown weaker and weaker as the
relations between Wolfgang and Camilla had become cooler.
He had observed them carefully, and had long been convinced that Wolfgang's engagement could as little endure




The House of Hohenstein.          439
for any length of time as his connection with the army. He
was too expert a gambler not to know that he would lose his
game. As long as Margaret had lived, this thought had
been a terror to him; and since her death, the idea'of escaping disgrace by suicide had lost much of its horror. He
had loved Margaret as much as his vain, selfish heart could
love, and he would have hesitated long before inflicting
such sorrow upon her; he would have shrunk especially
from appearing so small in her eyes, after having tried all
his life long to impress her with his noble descent, his refinement, and his sagacity.  All these motives lost their
power with Margaret's death, and the event itself had been
in some respects a relief to him-at least after he had overcome the first great sincere sorrow. Whatever might happen now, those gentle brown eyes that looked so often
searchingly at him, would no longer see it. Of Wolfgang
he hardly thought at all, and when he did so, with very different feelings. He had never looked upon him as he had
looked upon his wife. Already, as a boy, Wolfgang's earnestness and vigorous truthfulness had extorted from him a
respect which proved at times uncomfortable to his feelings,
and this sensation had increased in later years, till he saw
in the young man a strange being, whom he could hardly
comprehend. Wolfgang, he knew, could find his way through
the world, and-so strangely had the ideas of the good and
the true become confused in his mind-he imagined the romance of the suicide would give him a heroic air in the eyes
of his son! It was a deed, and he had always instinctively
felt that Wolfgang suspected him of not being energetic
enough to do a deed.
In spite of all these things he had postponed this last
deed, which was to pay all debts, and to atone for all sins,
from day to day, with that indecision which had never left
him during all his life, until the moment when decision was
no longer in his power, and circumstances forced him with
irresistible power to choose one way or another. No doubt
he would have dragged himself along on his painful path
for some time yet, if to-day blow upon blow had not fallen,
one after another, to rob him of the last faint ray of hope.
This morning the old general at Rheinfeld had written to
him, in reply to a letter of congratulation on his release,




440            The House of Hohenstein.
that he expected all the sums he had lent him during the
last year to be repaid promptly now. The letter was peremptory and rude in the extreme. Enclosed in the same
envelope he had found a note in the handwriting of the
president's wife, who informed him that circumstances of
recent occurrence made it expedient to annul the agreement
concerning Wolfgang and Camilla, and that further explanations on this subject could not well be given now, but would
in due time be furnished to the " alderman and his esteemed
son."
With these letters in-his pocket, the alderman had in vain
waited a long time for Wolfgang's return from parade, and
then started to the City Hall to attend the meeting which
had taken such a terrible turn. To have the treasury examined was for him, who had in the meantime taken nearly
fifty thousand dollars, nothing less than imprisonment, trial,
and confinement in the penitentiary for life.  Fate had
played the last trump against him; the game was lost!
The alderman reached his house almost breathless from
his haste to return. His first inquiry was after Wolfgang.
Good-natured Ursula, who managed the small household
since Margaret's death, alone, had red eyes, and broke out in
tears when she saw her master. "My good mistress would
turn in her grave," she said, " if she were to live through
this hour! " At last she succeeded in checking her grief so
far as to tell the alderman that during the afternoon a
couple of officers had been here to search every drawer and
cupboard in young master's room, and that his servant had
taken a supply of linen and some clothes to the guard-house.
There was a note, she added, on the alderman's table, written by young master.
The alderman went to his room; near the lighted lamp
lay a short note from Wolfgang, written in pencil: " Dear
father!-I have been arrested-I know not why. Do not
trouble. yourself about me. I hope to be free again very
soon! "
That too! Must all misfortunes fall upon him at once?
What could Wolfgang have done? The alderman's mind
was too seriously disturbed to allow him to dwell on that
question. He only felt a vague kind of satisfaction at the
event. It was evident that Fate was persecuting him in the




The House of Hiohenstein.       44I
most extraordinary manner, and was bent upon his ruin. To
escape from a world so shockingly unjust-if one had only
the courage to take the last irrevocable step!-that was a
resolve which the world could not help approving. And it
was all the better that Wolfgang was away from home just
now; his presence in the house might have been inconvenient. Now he had only to get rid of Ursula. But how?
Could he send her to the guard-house? Fort Sebastian was
at the other end of the town; even if she was not admitted,
it would take her at least an hour to go and come back.
He wrote a few words to his son-anything that occurred
to him on the spur of the moment. At the " Good-by, my
son.!" he started for a moment; but he had no time to
dwell on the special meaning of these words. He must
have lost ten minutes since he had entered the house; he
calculated that he had only fifteen minutes start of his pursuers.
He almost pushed the half-frightened Ursula out of the
house. Then he locked the front door and pushed the bolt,
went into his room, locked that door also and bolted it,
closed the window-shutters, screwed them as tight as he
could-and now he was alone.
Alone!-it gave him a sense of delight! The unhappy
man felt that now there was nobody any more between him
and his fate; no one could arrest his arm; no one could
jeer at him; no one tell him to his face that Arthur Baron
Hohenstein had stolen fifty thousand dollars from funds
entrusted to his care, and that he had cheated his creditors
out of nearly the same sum! A hundred thousand dollars!
A mere song! It was after all ridiculous to take his life for
such a trifle! He recalled the time when he was an officer
in the army, and when one of his brother officers had in one
year contracted debts to the amount of three hundred thousand dollars, and was looked upon by all of his comrades as
a kind of hero, especially when he shortly afterwards married a great heiress, who brought him a clear million! That
was living as it became a nobleman! Another friend of his
had even spent four hundred thousand, but unfortunately
ended by blowing out his brains. But still, that was worth
the trouble! But he! He had never in his life achieved
any really great success. All he had done, had been want19*




442            The House of Hohenstein.
ing in energy and greatness. Whenever he had meant to
live for pleasure only, his conscience had waked up and
marred the enjoyment; and whenever he had tried to live
in simple honesty, the memory of his former splendor had
disturbed his peace till he had once more abandoned his
good purposes. What had he after all gained by his noble
descent, his great family connections, which reached up to
the very highest regions, what by his early beauty, his worldly
cleverness? Nothing! Nothing whatever! They had brought
him here, here before the open box with pistols!
He took out one of the pistols, pushed the ramrod down,
and convinced himself that it was loaded. Then he took
off the cap and put on a new one. Thus prepared for the
worst, he fell into the comfortable arm-chair, and looked with
a certain ironical satisfaction at the elegant surroundings.
The old engravings after great masters, the superb busts
upon graceful consoles and pedestals, the richly-carved furniture, the warm velvet on sofas and chairs, the magnificent
carpet, which he had recently bought and not yet paid forthese were surroundings suitable for a man of his taste and
his pretensions. Why had fate not placed him so that he
could have enjoyed all these things comfortably, as so many
others did who were not a whit better than he was? He
had not been born to work and to toil, like his brother-in-law
Peter Schmitz! And what had Peter Schmitz accomplished
by all his toil and his honesty? A poor man he had been,
and a poor man he was still; but then, Peter Schmitz was a
born plebeian and had a talent for poverty. " I have no such
talent, and do not desire to have it. Arthur Hohenstein was
not born to plague himself like a slave."
A violent ring at the door-bell made him start up suddenly
from his chair. He laid his hand on his pistols; his heart
beat violently.
And another ring-louder than before.
He knew what this ringing meant; he saw the police
officer and his sergeants stand around the door. He saw
himself carried a prisoner down the street to the City Hall,
and entering as a prisoner the same rooms in which he had
so recently sat in council; he saw the amazed and indignant faces of his former colleagues.
And now a knock at the door.




The House of Hohenstein.         443
He put the mouth of the pistol to his temple-the next
moment he lay a mutilated corpse on the magnificent
unpaid-for carpet.
The messenger who had been sent to summon the alderman heard the explosion. A sudden fright seized the man,
who had felt uncomfortable enough already in the deserted
street before the closely-shut-up house and opposite the
dark trees of the convent garden with the night-wind rustling in their branches. He ran away as fast as he could to
inform the gentlemen at the City Hall of what he had heard.
— o —
CHAPTER IX.
W    OLFGANG had spent the first hours of his captivity
in a state of excitement very natural under the circumstances. Without being conscious of any special
misdeed, he could not consider himself innocent in the sense
which his accusers attached to his acts. His intimacy with
Degenfeld and Munzer, the frequent interviews he had had
with other leaders of the republican party, his friendship
for Uncle Peter, his recent adventure at Antonia's villa-if
this circumstance should be mentioned in the course of his
trial, as was probable!-his correspondence, his written
essays on political subjects, which would no doubt be seized
with his other papers, all this was more than enough to
secure him condemnation before a court martial.
But the prospect of a fate which might have terrified
others, had little in it to trouble the young man. What
pained him was the thought that he might be accused of
having acted equivocally or even deceitfully.  He ought
never to have entered into relations which were always more
or less incompatible with his convictions; he ought to have
left the army as soon as he saw clearly that he could not
remain in it with honor. What could he reply if he were
told so?
The burning blush of shame rose to the young man's face,
as he arrived at this point in his thoughts. He started up




444       T     he House of aohens/ein.
from his seat and walked vehemently up and down in the
narrow cell.
"What can I reply? What could I say in defence? Nothing but a candid profession of faith-that is a duty I owe to
myself. I will tell them exactly what I think of the present
state of things; I will say what no one yet has dared to say;
I will hold up before their eyes their petty tyranny, their
narrow-minded pedantry, their rotten prejudices-let them
do with me then what they choose! "
Wolfgang gave himself up to his imagination. He saw
himself standing before his judges; he prepared in his mind
the speech he was to deliver. But then it occurred to him
that, after all, a speech was a small thing in comparison with
a genuine deed, such as becomes a man. And what could
such a speech do? What had Degenfeld's enthusiastic,
clever pamphlet done? Nothing, absolutely nothing! At
best, it had only confirmed these narrow-minded, shortsighted men in their disgraceful prejudices.
What would he have given at this moment to be able to
offer his arm and his life to the great cause? While he was
distressing himself here in this narrow cell, with useless
meditations and idle fancies, others were shedding their
blood in open, honest conflict for the cause of liberty!...
"Oh, Munzer! oh, Degenfeld! You gave me bad advice!
You have kept the lion's share for yourself, and given me a
bone, at which I may gnaw. Oh that I had followed the
voice of my heart! I should not be a prisoner here now, like a
bird in his cage, who in vain beats his wings against the bars! "
The noise of a key turning in the lock attracted his attention. The door was opened cautiously, and Sergeant Ruchel
slipped into the room.
Wolfgang had imagined that the comforting words he had
heard whispered to him in the dark passage, had been a
well-meant encouragement on the part of some subordinate;
he had not dreamed of building upon it a hope of delivery.
The unexpected presence of the well-built, black-eyed man,
of whose devotion he had had repeated proofs, filled him
with a kind of joyous terror.
"Is it you, Ruchel? " he said, seizing eagerly his visitor's
hand. "How do you happen to be here, as your regiment
is not on duty to-day?"




The House of ]ohenstein.         445
"Combined detachments, lieutenant!" replied Ruchel;
"reported specially to the adjutant-but speak lower, lieutenant; the walls have ears. Do you desire to be free,
lieutenant?"
"How can you ask? " replied Wolfgang, in a whisper.
I mean, are you disposed to do something yourself for
your delivery?" inquired the sergeant.
"Whatever a man can do! "
"Then be ready about ten o'clock. The Republican Club
is preparing a great blow. I can say no more. It must not
even be known that I am here. I shall have to bring you
your supper in the presence of the ensign; ask me then to
bring you your things from your rooms; that will reassure
him. At ten o'clock I shall be back. Be ready then."
Sergeant Ruchel listened at the door to hear if anybody
was in the passage; then he slipped out swiftly and noiselessly as he had come.
Those were painful hours which Wolfgang spent till night
came. The great sensation which his flight would produce
if he should be successful, the great danger to which he
was exposed if he failed, the impression which his fate
would make on all who stood near to him-on his father, on
Munzer and Degenfeld, on Uncle Peter, Aunt Bella, and
Ottilia-all this passed again and again through his mind,
but he never wavered in his determination to risk everything
for the sake of freedom. The ambiguous position in which
he had been so long, had become so intolerable to him that
even death seemed preferable to him.
His thoughts dwelt longest on the dear house in River
street. To have to part with Ottilia without bidding her
farewell, seemed to him almost an impossibility. If he had
never known that he loved Ottilia, he would have found it
out now. Her beloved form would again and again present
itself before his mind's eye, amid all the varied images
which his excited imagination conjured up. He saw her
turn pale as she heard of his imprisonment, and rosy red
when the news came of his successful flight; and then he
returned triumphant, proclaiming the victory of liberty, and
held her in his arms, and called her his darling, his future
wife! Liberty and Ottilia-they were his two loves! These
two stars should henceforth be his guides through life.




446            The House of Hohenstein.
The appearance of his cousin, Ensign Odo, and of Sergeant Ruchel, the former of whom asked if he had any
special wishes, while the latter served his frugal supper, reminded Wolfgang that he had for the present not yet begun
that brilliant career. He requested his cousin-whose stolid
face looked, on this occasion, twice as stupid as usual-to
send an open note, which he had written in pencil, to his
father; and to let him have, through his own servant, some
linen, and other articles, of which he had made a list on another paper. Cousin Odo declared that there was no objection to either request, and then left him with his companion, who had, during the whole scene, affected a harsh,
almost uncourteous manner, towards the prisoner.
Wolfgang could not but be amused at the absurd condescension which Odo assumed. The young man was evidently
acting in concert with his family, perhaps under special
orders from his father. As soon as they no longer saw in
him the favorite of the old general, their true face reappeared. Wolfgang was amazed that he should have ever
allowed himself to be imposed upon by the hypocritical
friendliness of his noble relatives. He tried to eat something of the supper that had been brought, but the prisoners' fare was not to his taste.  Tired of walking up and
down, he threw himself on the hard couch, and had not been
long lying there when the reaction after so great an excitement made him fall asleep in spite of his efforts to remain
awake.
He felt a hand touching his shoulders, and started up. It
was Ruchel, who in the perfect darkness whispered to him:
" It is time; we must be gone; are you ready?"
Yes!"
"Give me your hand and step softly! "
They went from the room down the dark and narrow passage. At the end of the latter, Ruchel unlocked a door,
through which they passed into a small court-yard, from
which a second door, which was also unlocked by the sergeant, led to a long, covered passage, leading, through many
zigzag windings, along the fortifications, to the wall of the
bastion.
"Now, quickly up the wall, and on the other side down to
the hedge," whispered Ruchel.




The House of Hoalenstein.       447
They crept up the rather steep wall, and glided down the
other side till they reached a thick hedge, which followed,
at the foot of the wall, the deep, broad fosse.
" Remain close behind me! " whispered Ruchel.
They ran along the hedge for about a hundred yards;
then they came to an opening, where a little boat, belonging
to the person charged with the keeping of the walls and
fosses, was moored to a post.
" If we can cross the fosse unobserved, the worst is over,"
said Ruchel. " I hope the sentinel up near the old blockhouse will not see us. At the worst we must let him fire at
us. But before the fellow makes up his mind, we shall be
over."
It came exactly as Ruchel had predicted. Cautiously as
they proceeded, they could not avoid making some little
noise as they tried to undo the chain which secured the
boat. The sentinel at that post was a young man, who took
his instructions in good earnest. He stepped to the edge
of the wall and looked down. Fortunately the hedge was
at that place higher than elsewhere, so that the boat was
nearly one-third across before the sentinel saw it. Between
that point, however, and the shadow of the trees on the
glacis opposite, there was a broad space lying in the clear
light of the moon, which had just risen. The boat entered
upon this bright space.
" Halt!" cried the soldier.
"Pull, pull, lieutenant!" said Ruchel, standing at the
rudder.
"Halt!" cried the sentinel once more.
The bow of the boat was in the shadow.
A flash and an explosion; the ball fell behind the boat
into the water.
"Hurrah!" cried Ruchel, joyously waving his cap; " before he has reloaded, we are across."
They landed on the other side and ran through the plantations. Ruchel had taken Wolfgang by the hand.
"I am more at home here," he' said, " and we must not
miss the place where Cajus is waiting."
Wolfgang did not inquire how Cajus happened to be there,
in the excitement of the moment; everything seemed natural
which served to aid them in their flight.




448            The House of Hohenstein.
They passed through the wood, which was intersected by
walks, till they reached a place where several benches were
placed in a circle. As they left the trees, Cajus came to
meet them; he had been sitting on one of these benches.
He had a bundle in his hand.
"You are quite late, Ruchel," he said, in his rough, harsh
manner; " five minutes more and you would not have found
me."
" We couldn't come sooner, darling," replied Ruchel. " I
had to lock up too many prisoners. It was like a dovecot
to-day."
" We shall have to be in a hurry if we wish to overtake
the others," growled Cajus. "Make haste and change your
clothes."
Cajus had untied the bundle and taken out the clothes it
contained.
"They are your own things," he said. "Your servant
gave them to me. This is for you, Ruchel! "
They quickly exchanged their uniforms for citizen's dress.
Ruchel jumped on one of the benches and hung the things
they had pulled off on a branch.
" The good people of Nuremberg never hang a man till
they have caught him," he said in his exultation.
Cajus scolded. " No nonsense, Ruchel! " said Wolfgang.
A gun was fired from the fort.
Ruchel jumped down from the bench.
" Now they are in earnest," he said. "Who has the longest legs?"
The three men hastened out of the little wood across the
highroad, into a small path which led them past gardens
and houses into the open fields.  When they reached
these, Cajus, who was now the leader, moved to the right
till they struck the river. Then they went as fast as they
could along the tow-path, between the water on one side and
the low banks on the other.
Wolfgang heard now from Ruchel, who was walking by his
side, while silent Cajus preceded them by a few yards, how
his escape had been managed. The merry fellow said very
little about his offer to put the conspirators in possession of
the fort; perhaps he was afraid Wolfgang might yet look upon such treason with the eyes of the officer. " But for your




The House of Hohenstein.         449
servant, lieutenant," he said, "the thing would not have
been so easy. When he brought your night-things at nine
o'clock, I gave him a note to Cajus to let him know that you
were a prisoner, and that if the surprise of the fort should
not succeed, we, I mean you and I, would be on the glacis
at eleven, from where the members of the Republican Club
must help us further. I knew that they intended to do something of importance to-night, for Cajus had told me so. Yes,
yes, one may rely on those gentlemen; they are the men for
something of the kind, and therefore I am determined to
join them, come what may."
" But where does Cajus lead us?" asked Wolfgang.
"I do not know," said Ruchel. "I did not like to ask
him; do you ask him, lieutenant! "
Cajus's sharp ears must have heard the conversation, for
he suddenly moderated his steps and said, when the two had
come up: " I have been ordered by Munzer and Degenfeld,
who have gone ahead with about two hundred of our men,
to escort you to our corps, if you say so."
"Certainly, that is my wish," said Wolfgang, his heart
beating with delight at the idea of thus reaching the scene
of conflict at once; " and where does the corps go to?"
Cajus mentioned the name of the town in which the republicans had risen, and which they proposed to succor.
Wolfgang needed no long explanation to know what was
to be done. He had discussed only the night before the
chances of such an expedition with Munzer and Degenfeld.
It is true, he had not then believed that this dream would
so soon become a reality, and still less that he would himself
be connected with the enterprise.
" But where can we get arms?" he asked.
" We are just on the way to fetch them," replied Cajus.
Wolfgang would have liked to hear more about it, but
Cajus fell back into his morose reticence, and Wolfgang
sought consolation in the near prospect of joining his
friends.
In the meantime a thunder-storm came up, and made the
night still darker, and the road, at best not very comfortable,
still more difficult. At last it commenced to rain, first gently, then harder, and finally in torrents. - Wolfgang began
to feel a certain lassitude in all his limbs; the result, no doubt,




450            The House of Hohenstein.
of his having eaten nothing since the morning. Event Ruchel stopped telling funny stories and humming his favorite
songs for his own amusement, as he had been doing all the
time. Only Cajus walked on with undiminished vigor, and
even faster than before.
"The darkness is good enough, but the rain is very bad,"
he said. "If that goes on so for an hour, we shall not have
twenty of the two hundred left."
" I wonder," said Wolfgang, " why you have chosen this
road for the expedition. What you gain in safety, you lose
in time."
"Till we have arms, safety is the main point," replied
Cajus.
" But where are you to find arms on this road?"
"At Rheinfeld, in your granduncle's armory," replied
Cajus.
Wolfgang started. Munzer and Degenfeld had not told
him a word, last night, of this part of their plan.
" Whose was that idea? " he exclaimed.
" Mine," was the laconic reply.
"They will not surrender them willingly," said Wolfgang.
"Then we must take them by force," answered Cajus.
Wolfgang was silent. The prospect of having to meet his
granduncle, perhaps even Camilla and her mother, under
such circumstances, was inexpressibly painful to him. But
he saw no means of escape from this embarrassment. After
he had once taken the first step, throwing himself into the
arms of the revolution, he had to take the consequences of
that step, whatever they might be.
Nor did he have much time to reflect, for lights suddenly
appeared in the profound darkness on his left side arid at
very little distance, proving that they were near the chateau.
"Here you are more at home than I am," said Cajus,
halting; "will you lead us to the house?"
"Follow me! " said Wolfgang, resolutely.
He left the road near the river-bank and walked on the
well-known path along the park enclosure to the gate which
opened upon the court-yard.
At the gate they were hailed by a sentinel.
" Liberty!" replied Cajus.
"Pass on!" said the sentinel.




The House of Hohenstein.        451
"How are matters here?" asked Cajus.
"Not very well. Half of them have run away; the other
half never came."
"Thought so!" growled Cajus. "The plan never was
worth anything."
They entered the court-yard, which presented a strange
appearance. About fifty men were standing about, strangely
lighted up by the flame of a heap of dry wood which had
been kindled. They were distributing weapons; from the
wide-open front-door men were coming out, bearing still
more arms. Munzer was near the fire and superintended
the distribution. He greeted Wolfgang with a pressure of
the hand, and, as it seemed to the young man, with a very
sad smile.
" I am glad to see you here," he said, " although matters
are going on badly. The men are getting tired and want to
run off. Degenfeld is in the armory and wastes our time in
selecting particularly good weapons. Go to him and tell
him I should be glad if he would make an end there and let
us go on. We must leave, or we may be caught."
Wolfgang himself was very anxious to get away from a
place which he would rather never have entered. He hastened, therefore, to execute his commission before he should
be recognized by any of the inmates of the chateau.
He hurried through the large hall and then down the long,
narrow passage. He met a number of persons who were
carrying off arms, and when he admonished them to make
haste, they replied, scornfully, that the plundering had
scarcely begun yet.  When he entered the garden-room,
which was as scantily lighted by a few candles hastily placed
here and there as the hall and the passage, he heard from
the general's room, on the opposite side, the crying of women,
violent scolding and cursing of men, and between, if he
erred not, Degenfeld's voice, which seemed trying in vain
to make itself heard above the din and uproar. Wolfgang
pushed the half-open door, and a glance sufficed to show
him what was going on there.
Degenfeld stood with his back against the general's
bureau, which had been broken open, with a pistol in his
right hand, which he aimed at a crowd of men, who, under
the leadership of the locksmith, Christopher Unkel, pressed




452            The House of Ilohenstein.
upon him with wild cries and savage gestures. All around
him on the floor lay broken mirrors, valuable jewelry, and
other things, showing that the plundering had been at its
height when Degenfeld had entered.
Near one of the windows, and partly covered by Degenfeld, sat on his bath-chair the old general, wrapped in his
fur cloak; while Camilla and her mother stood by him with
weeping eyes, and their wrappers partially torn, as if they
also had not escaped personal insults when they were so
rudely awakened from their slumbers.
There was no doubt that Degenfeld's life was in serious
danger. Not only Christopher Unkel, but his accomplices
also, were armed with swords, guns, and hatchets, which
they had just stolen, and their words and gestures proved
that they had a great desire to use these weapons, taken in
the name of liberty, against the life of their own leader.
"Down with him!" yelled Christopher Unkel. "We
don't want to be ordered by a rascally aristocrat. Get away,
there, from the women, or we'll knock your brains out! "
"Help! help!" screamed the president's wife; "for
God's sake, Major Degenfeld, save us! "
Wolfgang had snatched a rifle from the hands of the nearest person, and was in an instant at Degenfeld's side.
"Back!" he cried, seizing the rifle by the barrel and
preparing to strike.
"There is another aristocrat!" cried a voice from the
crowd. " Knock him down! " Whirling an immense crowbar around his head, and uttering a yell of rage, Christopher
Unkel rushed upon Degenfeld. Degenfeld fired. Christopher fell, face forward, dead or mortally wounded.
When the others saw their leader fall, they rushed in wild
flight out of the room. Degenfeld bent over the fallen man.
The powerful arm which he lifted, fell like lead on the floor.
" He would have it! " murmured Degenfeld.
Then raising himself again, he said to Wolfgang in a sad
voice:
"Do you, dear Wolfgang, protect the ladies, in case the
rascals should come back again. I must see Munzer. Perhaps we shall not meet again. Then, farewell! "
He pressed Wolfgang's hand, bowed to the general and
the half-fainting ladies, and left the room.




The House of Hohensstein.         453
Wolfgang went up to his granduncle and said: " Are you
strong enough to go in the adjoining room?"
The old man stared at him with unmeaning eyes, and
mechanically extended his bony hands. Wolfgang took
him by the arm, drew him up from his chair, and led him
into the next room, his bed-chamber. The president's wife
and Camilla followed.
Wolfgang helped the old general to sit down in his armchair.
The president's wife, throwing herself into another chair,
stretched out her hands towards Wolfgang as if to ask his
pardon, and made an effort to smile upon him in her old
gracious way. Camilla threw herself on his bosom.
" Pardon me," he said, coldly; " but you are entirely mistaken."
"My dear son, you are not going to be angry still? " exclaimed Camilla's mother, her eyes welling over with tears.
"Rid me of these banditti, my boy!" cried the old man,
"and you shall have the girl, even if that old fox, the doctor,
should have to go to the devil."
Camilla covered her face with her hands.
"I regret to have to explain to you the mistake under
which you are all laboring," said Wolfgang. "You must
know that I as well as Major Degenfeld belong to these
banditti; although, as you see, we do not take the matter in
your sense of the word. I have just escaped from prison;
you will hardly wish to marry a deserter, Miss Camilla."
"Oh, my God, he is going to murder us!" cried the
mother.
Camilla threw herself at her- feet and hid her beautiful
face in her mother's lap.
"That is your doing, wretched woman!" said the general.
" I absolve these ladies from such a reproach," said Wolfgang, " I leave Miss Camilla perfectly free,' as she has
already chosen elsewhere, if I am correctly informed. You
will permit me to cut short this painful scene and to look
after my friends."
" He is going to murder us!" cried the president's wife
once more.
At that moment a shot was heard, and then a second, and




454           The House of Hohenstein.
a third, and then a regular platoon fire, so that the windowpanes rattled.
Wolfgang hurried out of the chamber and through the
other room where the dead body of the locksmith was still
lying on the carpet, into the garden-room, where he met
Ruchel.
" God be thanked that I find you! " exclaimed the faithful fellow; "we cannot get into the court-yard; they are on
my heels!"
The step of soldiers rushing up the passage confirmed his
words. There was but one outlet-through the glass-door
into the park. Wolfgang led his companion to the door.
Fortunately it was not locked. It was high time: the balls
that were fired after them passed through the glass so that
the splinters flew around their heads.
"Where are our people?" asked Wolfgang, when they
had reached the edge of the little lake in their hurried
flight.
" God knows! " replied Ruchel. "All is upside down!"
"We must look for them," said Wolfgang.
" I follow wherever you lead," replied Ruchel.
The firing, which had at first come from the court-yard,
now grew weaker, and seemed to come rather from the other
side of the park and the vineyard, which lay between the
park and the village of Rheinfeld.
"Follow me," said Wolfgang. " I know the shortest way."
" I am coming," replied Ruchel.
They had not gone fifty yards from the lake, when they were
fired upon from the right. They turned to the left. " Halt! "
said a voice, and again guns-were fired quite close by. Fortunately they were protected by the darkness, which was still
very deep under the trees and in the thick shrubbery, although the rain had ceased, and the moon was once more
shining in the heavens.
" They have formed a chain all around the chateau," whispered Ruchel; "we shall have to try and slip through somewhere."
They remained perfectly quiet for a few minutes, in order
to find out, if possible, how the men were posted. When
they thought they knew where the nearest stood, they crept
cautiously forward, and thus reached safely the edge of the




The House of Hohenstein.         455
wood, which here surrounded a large lawn with a decayed
pavilion in the centre. The moon was shining brightly
upon the open place, and glittered on the bayonets of nearly
half a company of soldiers, the other half having been detached to form the chain which they had just passed successfully. While they were still considering what they would
better do, the firing in the vineyards, which had almost
ceased for a time, began to be more lively again. The captain of the company ordered the bugle-men to give the signal
to rally, and Wolfgang and Ruchel knew at once that the
tirailleurs would now fall back upon the main body, thus
placing them between two fires.
" There is nothing left but to lie perfectly quiet and to see
if they won't pass us," whispered Ruchel.
"I think we had better creep along the edge of the lawn,"
replied Wolfgang. A few yards from the spot there, where the
big trees are standing close together, there is a little gate in
the park enclosure, so closely overgrown with creepers that
nobody knows where it is."
" Very well! " replied Ruchel.
Under the protection of the deep shadow of the trees they
crept very cautiously along the edge of the lawn, and had
nearly reached the spot pointed out by Wolfgang, when they
suddenly came across a patrol, who had been sent off in that
direction, and who were now waiting, their guns at rest, having heard the cracking of dry branches, and thinking they
would meet another patrol from the nearest outpost.
"We must fight our way through!" whispered Wolfgang.
"All right! " replied Ruchel.
"Halt! Who is that?" cried the commander of the patrol.
"Friends! " replied Wolfgang, falling at the same time
upon the startled man and tearing the gun from his hands.
Ruchel rushed upon a second man. A struggle followed.
Despair gave additional strength to the two aggressors. They
threw or pushed aside all who opposed them, and had soon
reached the little gate. But they could not get out unobserved,
for the pursuers were close upon their heels.  Outside the
park, for the whole distance to the village, there were only a
few trees on one side of the canal; thus they had no shelter
there, and their position was even worse than before. In



456            The House of Hohenstein.
deed, they had hardly run half the distance, when the soldiers
broke open the little gate and rushed after them, calling to
each other for mutual encouragement, and evidently quite sure
of their prey. At the same time the beating of drums was
heard from the village; so there also were soldiers! Every
hope of escape seemed to be cut off.
"Let us wait for them to come up, and sell our lives as
dear as we can! " cried Wolfgang.
" All right! " replied Ruchel.
Suddenly a figure stood behind them, which had turned up
as if by magic from the ruins of the old village wall, thickly
overgrown as they were with briars and brambles.
" It is I, Balthasar! " said a voice, the peculiar soft ring
of which Wolfgang had never forgotten.  "Quick, young
master, you and whoever is with you! Follow me, and not
a soul shall touch a hair on your head."
Balthasar seized Wolfgang's hand, and drew him into the
bushes. Ruchel followed them closely.
" Now down on your knees and creep after me! " said
Balthasar.
Wolfgang repeated the injunction to Ruchel.
"All right! " said Ruchel.
They crept on all fours through a crevice between piled-up
stones.  It was so narrow that Wolfgang had repeatedly
trouble to force his broad shoulders through it. Ruchel also
seemed to find it difficult, for he growled considerably, and
then again made funny remarks about their dangerous position.
"Now halt! " cried Balthasar.
"Halt! " said Wolfgang.
"All right! " said Ruchel.
" Now we climb up a ladder of ten rounds," said Balthasar, leading the way. Wolfgang followed, then Ruchel, who
at Balthasar's request drew the ladder up after him.
They were able now to stand upright.  Balthasar lit a
small lantern. They found themselves in a narrow passage,
about four feet wide and six feet high, which led, first gradually, and then more steeply, upwards to a heavy iron door,
which Balthasar opened and then locked again behind them
with key and bolt. They were now in a cellar-like space, which
was so large that Balthasar's lantern, with its feeble light, did




The House of Hohenstein.         457
not show them more than a few feet around them. Out of
this room a very narrow and steep flight of steps, which had
been built in the thickness of the wall, led them into another narrow passage, and from thence, by means of a short
ladder and a trap-door, into the room in the tower where
Wolfgang had been before. Balthasar drew up the little
ladder, let down the door, placed the lantern on a table, and
welcomed Wolfgang most cordially, taking him by both
hands.
" Did I not tell you," he exclaimed, " that I would save
you, one of these days, by bringing you to my tower? How
strangely things will come about! "
Then he tried, with touching kindness, to do his best for
his guests. He brought them coarse but scrupulously clean
linen, and urged them both to change their clothes, as the
violent rain during their walk, and then the creeping through
the bushes, had wetted them through and through. In the
meantime he moved the books from the table, and brought
bread, butter, cheese, and a bottle of wine; then again,
while his guests eat and drank, he prepared a couch for
them with greatcoats and blankets, upon which the two adventurers gratefully stretched their weary limbs to rest after
the enormous fatigue of the evening. Ruchel had no sooner
closed his bold, black eyes, which had been examining the
odd outfittings of the tower, down to the minutest details,
than he fell fast asleep. Wolfgang saw first, as through a
veil, how Balthasar moved, silently and cautiously, all about
the room, setting matters to right again; then he saw him
sitting by his table, reading in a large volume, and then
deep, dreamless sleep fell upon him, like a soft, warm veil.
— 0 —CHAPTER X.
W    HEN Wolfgang awoke the next morning and looked
around the room, resting on his elbows, he was for
a moment so bewildered by the unusual surroundings, that he took his head in his hands to make sure that it
20




458            The House of Hohenstein.
was not a dream, but stern reality. It was only when he
saw his faithful companion Ruchel that his thoughts returned
into the old channel.  The sergeant was sleeping on the
other side of the room as fast as if the hard boards on which
he lay had been the best of mattrasses, and the weighty
folio under his head a pillow of down. Wolfgang recalled
now one by one the events of the past day, his interview
with Kettenberg, the scene with the colonel, his arrest, imprisonment, and flight, the night's tramp to Rheinfeld, the
meeting with his granduncle, Camilla, and her mother, and
finally the rescue from imminent deadly danger through the
faithful Balthasar. How differently everything appeared to
him now in the quiet, sober morning hour! Yesterday the
most extraordinary event had seemed quite natural, the most
startling adventure a matter of course; to-day he looked
with painful amazement at the impassable gulf which had
opened between his past life and his present. The decisive
step had been taken; it was irrevocable, and he felt that he
was on a new path, the end of which was beyond human
foresight.
Wolfgang did not waste his time and his thoughts on
efforts to penetrate this darkness with prophetic glances. He
was content to know that the future, with all its troubles, all
its dangers, could never bring back to him the sufferings and
the mortifications of his former position; that in fact, whatever might happen, he would at least no longer be a helpless
tool in the hands of others, but the maker of his own fate.
This proud consciousness raised him, as upon eagle's
wings, above all petty cares for his own weal or woe; but
the more perfectly secure he felt where he was, the more he
thought with deepest interest of those whom he had left behind, and who would first be affected by the storm roused by
his escape from prison. Above all, what would his father
say to it?-what might not the unfortunate man have to suffer in consequence of his son's rash act, by which even the
last frail ties were broken that had bound him to the rest of
the family?  Kettenberg had evidently been correctly
informed about the whole affair; this was amply proven by
the colonel's brutality, the visit of the president's wife and
Camilla to Rheinfeld, their conduct last night, and what
the old gentleman had said during the memorable scene.




The House of Hohenstein.         459
And then-what else could he have done? He had borne
what man can bear; he had submitted, perhaps too patiently,
to humiliation. There is a limit even to filial obedience.
Happy the man who can aspire to the highest aims of mankind in sweet harmony with relations and campanions; but
woe to him who, when the hour strikes which summons him
to decide, has no ear for the great word which commands us
to let the dead bury the dead.
But, however heroic these thoughts might be, they were
not such as could perfectly quiet Wolfgang's gentle, affectionate heart, and again and again his thoughts -reverted to
his father. If he had known his father happy, or at least
safe in his situation, he would perhaps have thought it a
merit to separate his own adventurous fate from his; but he
had left a man forsaken by others, he had perhaps increased
his misery. This thought burnt itself into his soul, and all
his reasoning, all his efforts to convince himself of the contrary, could not make him feel at rest.
And yet he knew that he must not allow any such feeling
to affect the courage of which he stood so much in need.
His own affairs were surely threatening enough. And then
what else could he do? Surely it would be better for his
father also that he should secure himself against the evil
consequences of his desertion. He could not go back;
there was nothing left him under the circumstances but to
go forward.
He rose from his couch and arranged his dress as well as
he could. Balthasar, who he thought might be sleeping behind a partition-wall in a corner of the room, was not to be
seen; but the good man had provided for everything before
leaving the tower. There was no lack of fresh water, and
on the neck of the bottle of wine standing by the platter
with bread and butter, hung a note, in the schoolmaster's
neatest handwriting, with these words: " I have gone out to
reconnoitre, and may not be back till evening. You must
not be troubled about me; I shall be very careful: In the
meantime you can examine the tower; but avoid making a
noise; the troops are still in the neighborhood. Good-by."
Wolfgang had informed Balthasar the night before, during
their frugal meal, of the most recent events, and of his own
determination, if Munzer's corps should be scattered, to




460            The House of Ifohenstein.
make his way to the town which was in revolt, or to the revolutionary army in the South. He now recalled that Balthasar had begged him to remain in the Witches' Tower at'
least until Balthasar should have obtained reliable information as to the results of last night's fight, and about the state
of things generally. No doubt the good fellow had gone
out, during the night, to carry out his purpose. Wolfgang
could not but think with apprehension of his own and Ruchel's fate, if the good schoolmaster should be caught, and
they were to be shut up in this tower, from which there
seemed to be no escape. But then again he drew comfort
from the thought that the remarkable man, who had shown
such marvellous ingenuity in concealing himself from the
eyes of the world, would no doubt be cautious enough now,
when the safety and the life of his guests depended on his
watchfulness. At all events, nothing was left now but to
await his return.
The noise which Wolfgang had necessarily made in dressing, had aroused Ruchel, who sat up on his hard couch,
rubbing his eyes, and looking around the room with amazement, till he suddenly jumped up, exclaiming:
" Good morning, lieutenant!"
Wolfgang drew real comfort from the young man's
bright, black eyes, and returned the greeting quite as cordially.  The sergeant dispatched his toilet very expeditiously, and then accepted Wolfgang's invitation to keep him
company in breakfasting, although he showed by a certain
unpretending modesty that he still respected in his fellowsufferer of to-day, the superior of yesterday. Wolfgang had
much to ask of his deliverer, and the latter replied frankly
to all his questions.
" I always thought particularly well of you," he said,
"from the beginning, and certainly better than of any other
officer in the regiment, not excepting even Major Degenfeld, who no doubt meant it very well with us, but still
kept us at a distance.  Yes indeed, lieutenant, you may
believe it or not, they loved you in the company.  You
could have done anything with us. I have heard the men
say, more than once,'We are all of us ready to die for
Lieutenant Hohenstein.'  I told Cajus so, and he said,'Well, that might happen;' for he knew you were a repub



The House of Hohzenstein.         46I
lican at heart, and all the republicans thought very highly
of you."
Wolfgang asked if Ruchel had long been in relations with
Cajus, and the sergeant replied:
"I only made his acquaintance last winter. He sometimes came to the'Black Bear,' where the men used to
drink their beer at night, and told us all about America,
where he has been for many years, and about the Indians
and the buffaloes, and California. And when we were all
listening to him with open eyes and mouths, he told us of
the American constitution, and how people over there had
everything that we want to have: liberty and equality and
a republic, and that every citizen who was born in America
could become president, if he was only clever enough. We
were mightily pleased with all that, especially I; for I always wanted to lead a free and easy life; and became a soldier only because I hoped that would, at all events, lead
me a little farther than sawing wood-I was apprentice to a
cabinet-maker then, lieutenant-but Cajus always said that
as long as the army was as it now is, nothing could come of it.
Well, lieutenant, that must be so, for it is a miserable,
wretched life, the life of a private or of a sergeant, and especially for a man who has some little sense in his head, and sees
how little the officers know themselves. All that filled my
head.with strange thoughts, you see, and Cajus soon had me
where he wanted."
Ruchel told further how Cajus had gradually initiated
him into the secrets of the party, and how he, Ruchel, had
brought to him other friends, till at last the whole battalion
had been in connection with Cajus, a dozen or so non-commissioned officers alone excepted. In all these transactions
Wolfgang's name had been adroitly used, for Cajus had always asserted that he was not acting for himself, but in the
interest of Lieutenant Hohenstein, who had promised Major
Degenfeld and the other gentlemen of the Republican Club,
upon his word of honor, that before spring the whole of the
second battalion of the ninety-ninth regiment should belong
to the republican party.
Wolfgang was greatly surprised when he thus found how
important a part he had unconsciously played in the republican conspiracy in Cologne. He did not doubt for a mo



462            The House of Hohenstein.
ment that Cajus had made such improper use of his name
without the slightest authority from Munzer or Degenfeld,
and simply upon the principle of most fanatics, that the end
sanctions the means.  He saw now that his situation had
been for some time fraught with danger, and that Colonel
Hohenstein was justified in placing him under arrest, which
he would never have dared if he had not had evidence
enough against him to convince a court-martial of his crime.
It was clear that he had escaped from long, weary imprisonment, when he thought he was merely following -a blind instinct, and this conviction consoled him somewhat with
regard to his father.
It was but natural that the two companions, in the course
of the morning, came to speak repeatedly of the circumstances of their bold flight, and Wolfgang could not cease
wondering how strangely accident and purpose had intermingled. Thus it appeared that Ruchel had firmly believed
Wolfgang's arrest was a voluntary act, devised for the purpose
of enabling him to place the fort in the hands of the republicans. He had meant this and nothing else by his ironical remark that " Wolfgang would not be in prison long." Then,
however, he had overheard the remarks made by the officers in
the guard-room, which had made him think he must be wrong
in his supposition; and he had, therefore, preferred sending
Wolfgang's servant with a message to Cajus, asking him to
aid in their escape.
After Ruchel had thus satisfied Wolfgang's curiosity, he
thought himself fairly entitled to ask a few questions about
the " odd fellow " in whose house they found themselves captives for the moment. Wolfgang told him all that was expedient he should know, and Ruchel was satisfied. He did
not seem to be in the least surprised at learning that their
host was the very schoolmaster whom everybody had considered dead for two months. The more extraordinary and
strange a thing was, the better it suited the man's fantastic
head. The odd furniture of the room, the large books in
parchment bindings, the minerals, dried plants, boxes and
phials filled with things utterly unknown to him-all this
caused him great pleasure, to which he gave vent in such
curious and humorous remarks, that Wolfgang more than
once burst out laughing. Then the restless fellow could not




The House of Hohenstein.         463
endure being cooped up in the small room any longer, and
he asked Wolfgang's permission to explore the subterranean
passages. The latter felt the less disposed to refuse his request, as he was himself quite curious to know the mysteries
of the Witches' Tower. They lighted the lantern, which was
hanging from a nail on the wall, and descended through the
trap-door to the lower rooms. They found that the whole
hill on which the tower stood was pierced in all directions. In the lowest story they discovered the narrow
passage through which they had come the day before; but
they did not venture far in it, as the oppressive closeness of
the air and the unevenness of the floor made their progress
very difficult. Besides, there were other passages leading
sideways, and they were afraid of losing their way.
They had just reached their room in the tower again, when
they were startled by the beating of drums close by. Their
first suspicion that their hiding-place had been discovered,
fortunately proved incorrect. They could distinctly hear the
soldiers conversing on the events of last night. They were
probably standing quite near the tower, on the public road.
Wolfgang's name was mentioned repeatedly, also Ruchel's;
there was no doubt both of them had been recognized
during their struggle with the patrol.  They heard how
one of the men boasted that he had just aimed at the
lieutenant, and would have certainly killed him, if at the
very moment of giving fire his neighbor had not knocked
against his elbow. Another said he had been so near to
the two that he could have touched them with his bayonet;
but he had stumbled over a stone in the way, and when he
had recovered himself the runaways had escaped. Where
did they go to? If the devil did not know, he surely could
not know what had become of them. A hoarse voice, which
they recognized as belonging to the sergeant-major of the
first battalion, reprimanded the man for speaking of the devil,
who might accept the invitation and appear, sure enough.
The runaways, he asserted, had probably gone through the
village down to the river, had found a boat there, like the
others who had escaped, and had floated down the stream.
He, the sergeant, had suggested to watch the bank of the
river, but then he was only an old soldier, who had made a few
campaigns, and the young ones had it all their own way now!




464           The House of Hohenstein.
Ruchel was highly amused. He said it was too funny, in
all conscience, to be sitting here in a safe hiding-place, only
a few feet from his pursuers! What faces they would make
if he were to call to them, through a small opening in the
wall, that he was the devil whom the soldiers had invited,
and that he was ready to carry off the whole company!
Wolfgang had to exert all his influence over him to keep
him from indulging in his mad prank, and only succeeded
when he told him that any such folly would inevitably lead
to discovery, or at least to the establishment of a " corps of
observation " on the spot, which might make their position
very disagreeable.  Balthasar might be prevented from
bringing them food and drink, and Ruchel might convince
himself, by a look at the cupboard, how long they could subsist upon the few provisions left there, and the schoolmaster's single bottle of wine. This last argument had the desired effect. Ruchel confessed that he could live on everything except on air.
With such conversations the time passed more quickly
than Wolfgang could have imagined, anxious as he was to
see the schoolmaster again. Ruchel was inexhaustible in
stories of garrison life; he also gave Wolfgang, at the request of the latter, a sketch of his life, the strangest mixture imaginable of recklessness and good-nature.
It grew dark in the tower long before sunset, and before
long it was perfect night there. A violent wind was howling around the old ruin, and whistled through the high,
narrow openings which served as windows. A heavy rain
began to fall; at least the prisoners heard the running of
water, which sought an outlet through crevices in the walls.
The soldiers could no longer be heard; nevertheless they
dared not strike a light, as Wolfgang did not know how far
it might be seen outside.
Ruchel had prepared a couch for Wolfgang as soon as it
began to be dark. He thought there was no knowing when
the old man would come back, and the lieutenant was not
accustomed to camp on the bare floor. He himself took an
old cloak of the schoolmaster's, put the folio again under
his head, and lay down; in a few minutes he was fast
asleep, but he had made Wolfgang promise to wake him two
hours hence, when he would take the watch, and let the lieu



The House of Hohenstein.         465
tenant rest. Wolfgang sat there in the dark, resting on his
elbow, and listening through rain and storm to hear what
might happen. The rats began to gnaw at the worm-eaten
planks at his feet; several times he thought he heard a call
and a whistle, but he convinced himself that it was only
owls and other birds that began to fly around the old tower.
The very terror of such a watch filled his soul with a pleasant sensation. He thought of the dangers of his position,
but only in the joyous consciousness of being fully equal in
courage and strength to any peril that might threaten.  He
had experienced yesterday how far fortune favors the brave.
What would have become of him if he had hesitated for a
moment to risk his flight? He would be a prisoner yet,
without hope of delivery; he would have been a prisoner
for years, while without, in the great world, the fate of mankind for ages to come was decided on bloody battle-fields!
Now he might hope to take his part in that conflict, as his
heart commanded; and whether he fell or whether he conquered, it was sure to happen only on the side of justice
and right. And why should they not triumph?
It is true the young man could not blind himself to the
fact that not all who fought under the sacred banner of liberty came with pure hearts and clean hands. Fanatical enthusiasts like Cajus; reckless adventurers like Ruchel; vulgar rabble, such as he had encountered during that sad night
at Castle Rheinfeld-were they the kind of stones of which
the temple of the future could be built? But the spiritual
idea must everywhere make use of earth-born material in
order to embody itself. He had found this out during his
long, sleepless nights; he did not mean to be cheated out
of this conviction by anything that might happen.
A rapture of enthusiasm shook his soul to its centre. It
seized him as with supernatural power, so that he rose from
his couch and vowed with uplifted arm to remain faithful to
the good cause through suffering, danger, and death! And
as he swore this with silent, trembling lips, he saw before
him Ottilia's cherished image bending towards him with a
gentle, affectionate smile.
He had not dreamt altogether; it was a ray of moonlight
which fell through one of the openings upon the wall opposite.
He could not help smiling as he made the discovery. "I
20*




466            The House of HTohenstein.
have seen you," he said to himself, " and need we wonder
when the eye of the body fancies it sees what fills the whole
soul."
He stretched himself again on his couch and listened once
more to the strange voices of night. The storm and the rain,
which had abated somewhat for half an houg began to rage
with renewed violence. Wolfgang heard it with delight, for
the bad weather was favorable to Balthasar, whose long
absence began to make him uneasy.
Suddenly he thought he heard a noise beneath him as if
somebody was coming up the steep steps in the thickness of
the wall. He started on his feet; at the same time a feeble
light was seen through the crevices of the trap-door; the
door was opened from below, and Balthasar, with a small
lantern in his hand, appeared at the opening.  Wolfgang
welcomed the faithful friend with real joy. Balthasar put the
lantern on the table, seized both of Wolfgang's hands in his
own, and said: " Here I am once more, dear young master.
I suppose time has hung heavily on your hands; but I had
to make use of the dark evening, and the distance from town
is great."
"You have not been all the way to town? " asked Wolfgang, quite surprised.
" Certainly," replied Balthasar, taking off a satchel he had
worn across his shoulder and laying it on the table. " I
thought as you had to run away so suddenly, you would like
your friends to know that you are safe, and so I slipped into
town as soon as the gates were opened, and went to see my
friend Moss."
" Do you know old Moss?"
"I have known him now for twenty-five years; ever since
he was coachman to his excellency."
"Tell me, tell me!" said Wolfgang; "have you heard
from my father?-have you seen him? "
Balthasar had turned towards the table, so that Wolfgang could not see his face as he said:
" I have not spoken to him; but as far as I know, all is
well. Moss has been all about town and heard much. I will
tell you, if you will first permit me to change my clothes, for
I am drenched."
Balthasar went behind his partition, and soon reappeared,




Th   ose of Hohenstein.          467
sat down by Wolfgang, and said in a whisper: " While your
companion is sleeping, let us consider what is to be done.
In the first place, here are the contents of the satchel; they
come from your relatives in River street.
" Yes, yes," he said, "I was there too, for I knew through
old Moss that they treat you like a child in that house. At
first Mr. Schmitz wanted to come himself to bid you goodbye; but I showed him that that could not well be done;
then he sent you his love and this letter, and a small sum
of money. I was to give you the money only on the road,
but I suppose you are too sensible to refuse what a friend
offers you in the hour of need."
Wolfgang blushed.  He remembered the poet's words,
"You know how good people ought to think," but he said
nothing, and opened the letter, which contained only these few
words: "Dear Wolfgang!-You are carried away by the
whirlpool. I saw it coming. But you are one of those men
who must go their own way, and who may be safely left to
find the right way by themselves. Be brave, and breast the
waves! You know how I feel for you.  In this solemn hour
I may tell you that I love the son of my Margaret as a
father loves his own son, whom he would scold if he were
not very proud of him.-Peter Schmitz."
Wolfgang's eyes were moist as he folded up the letter
slowly, and put it away in his breast-pocket.
"And here," said Balthasar, "is a ring. She who gave
it to me said you would know from whom it came. And
here," he continued quickly, as if he wished to give Wolfgang time to put away the little jewel without being observed,
" are some more things, linen and whatever a traveller may
want. That good lady they call Aunt Bella packed them up
amid a thousand tears and kindest wishes for your welfare.
As for the rest there is not much that is hopeful to report.
The expedition is, of course, a complete failure; the whole
corps is scattered; many have been brought in as prisoners;
many are killed or wounded; only a few have escaped,,probably because they had the courage to fight their way
through. Among the latter are Doctor Munzer and Major
Degenfeld; at least nothing has been heard of them. The
rebellious town has surrendered to the troops; the rising in
that province is completely quelled. There will be nothing




468            The House of H-ohenstein.
left for us but to carry out your plan, to join the revolutionary army in the South, if we can get there."
"To us?" asked Wolfgang, placing his hand on the
schoolmaster's shoulder; " you do not mean to venture into
this desperate war-you who abhor the bloody profession
from the bottom of your heart?"
"I mean to go with you," replied Balthasar, raising his
gentle blue eyes affectionately to Wolfgang, " if you do not
object to it, and if you can make use of a man to whom day
and night are all one, and who does not mind wind or weather.
Although I cannot and will not fight, there are always many
things to be done in a war which the combatants cannot do
themselves, and that shall be my share of the work. And
then there is something else that drives me out of my asylum."
Balthasar bent his head quite low down to Wolfgang and
whispered:
"The terrible woman who drove me to seek refuge in
this hole in the wall, has been set free to-day, and she is sure
to come to the village. I cannot bear the idea of knowing
her so near to me. I must go; pray take me with you."
"Most willingly!" said Wolfgang, taking the proffered
hand. " We will stand by each other as faithful companions,
for better or worse, in danger and in death! "
"Then you must not forget me, lieutenant," said Ruchel,
who had risen in the meantime and heard the last words,
which Wolfgang had spoken in a somewhat louder tone.
" Certainly not! " replied Wolfgang, offering the good fellow his other hand.
"-But we must leave immediately," said Balthasar; "the
moon has set; at sunrise we must be far from here."
" I am ready! " said Wolfgang.
"All right!" said Ruchel.
-----
CHAPTER XI.
T was a marvellously beautiful summer morning, when
the three adventurers, after a long and troublesome
journey, reached at last the summit of the mountains.
At their feet a broad stream was winding through a gradually




The House of Hohenstein.          469
widening valley, its course being marked out, even where its
waters were not seen, by villages almost completely buried
in the foliage of trees and shrubs.
"Let us build huts here! " cried Ruchel, stretching himself at full length in the shadow of some trees.
Wolfgang stepped farther out to a place which afforded a
look over the whole landscape, and, leaning on his staff, he
examined the country carefully. Balthasar had, in the meantime, spread out some provisions from his knapsack on a
napkin, and filled his travelling-flask from a spring near by,
which hurried, purling and babbling, down into the valley.
He now took his place by Wolfgang's side.
" That must be Eberburg," said Wolfgang, pointing at the
ruins of a castle which crowned a gently-swelling hill on the
opposite side of the valley. " Don't you think so? "
" According to the sportsman's description it can hardly
be anything else," replied Balthasar.
" And how far do you think it is from here?"
" At least three hours, and then we may be delayed in
crossing the river."
" I only wish we were there," said Wolfgang. "I should
not wonder if the regulars had their outposts as far up the river
as this neighborhood. If Eberburg has really been occupied
for a whole week by the volunteers of our army, we must be
prepared to have an encounter with our friends."
"Would it not be better, then, to wait till night before
we attempt crossing the river? From here we can at any
moment fall back into the woods; but if we are once
down in the valley, we must keep on, whether we choose or
not."
"It seems to me, dear Balthasar, we are in that predicament already," replied Wolfgang. "According to what we
have heard of the movements of the regulars, our men cannot hold so advanced a post another day.  If we wait
another night we may find the old castle occupied by the
enemy instead of our friends. It would be best to march on
at once, but we must have some rest.  I have observed
Ruchel, he could hardly drag himself along the last few
miles, although he would not confess it; and I think we also
will find a few hours' rest quite acceptable after a five hours'
march."




470            The House of Hohenstein.
"Well, what have you gentlemen decided to do?" asked
Ruchel, when the two returned to their resting-place.
" We will make a short halt here!"
"The longer the better," cried Ruchel, stretching himself
in the grass. "I am dog tired, and now I suppose I can
say so."
"Poor fellow," said Wolfgang; "it was a little too much,
I dare say!  Stay where you are; I'll bring you your
bread."
"That would be nice! " cried Ruchel, quickly starting
up; "when breakfast comes I am always as bright as a
lark."
In spite of this boast the man was too fatigued to enjoy
his frugal meal; he could only swallow a few mouthfuls, and
these also only by the aid of a small allowance of brandy
from his little flask, then he crept back to his place and was
soon fast asleep once more.
" Would you not better lie down too, my dear sir?" asked
Balthasar.  "The day is going to be hot.  You know I
need very little sleep."
Wolfgang assured him he was not tired at all, but he had
not been sitting quiet a few minutes listening to the chirping
of the insects in the sunburnt grass, and watching the hot
air as it rose from the ground, when his eyes closed and his
head fell back against the trunk of the tree on which he had
been leaning. Balthasar bent a few drooping branches so
that they cast a denser shade over his face; then he sat
down quietly again, looking alternately at the two slumberers and at the valleys which lay in the dazzling sunshine at
his feet. An hour might have passed, when Balthasar rose
and gently touched Wolfgang's shoulder; the latter started
up in an instant. Ruchel also had been roused by the noise,
and rubbed his eyes.
" How are you, Ruchel?" asked Wolfgang.
" Fresh as a fish," replied Ruchel. "Ah! I slept like a
top; I dreamt of my lady-love; that is a good omen!"
"Then let us profit by th6 good omen," said Wolfgang,
smiling. "Up, Ruchel! In three hours we shall be at Eberburg!"
"And what are we to do if the river is watched?" asked
Balthasar.




The House of Hohenstein.          471
"Slip through somewhere!" said Ruchel, swinging his
knapsack on his shoulder; "we understand that-don't we,
lieutenant?"
"We'll see," replied Wolfgang. "I hope we shall get
across safely."
The three travellers followed a footpath which led from
the height on which they had rested, down into the valley.
At their feet lay a little village, so completely hid under tall
trees that little else was to be seen but the high roofs of
some of the houses. If the village was not held by the
army, and if they could cross the river here, all was safe.
Cautiously advancing, they soon reached the first cottages.
Till now they had seen nothing that was suspicious; but
still it did not seem advisable to enter the village without
reconnoitring first. Ruchel, whose skill in such matters
had been shown on several occasions, crept along the hedges,
while the others remained behind in a safe hiding-place.
Ten minutes later, Ruchel came back, half amused and half
frightened.
" It was well for us," he whispered, "we did not run right
into the trap. There is a sergeant and ten men in the village.
On the river is a sentinel; the peasant whom I asked said
that no one was allowed to cross in either direction. I told
him I was a poor travelling mechanic and must get across.
Then he said I ought to go to the next village, that was not
occupied, and there is a ferry there. The river cannot be
forded; there are deep holes on this side and on the other,
in which man and horse may be drowned."
"You can both of you swim," said Balthasar. "Leave
me here!"
"No such thing!" replied Wolfgang; "let us go to the
next village!"
They crept through the bushes, between the vineyards,
going around the village in a wide circuit. It was a painful
journey. The sun burnt with almost intolerable intensity on
the black slate, of which the mountains principally consisted.
Besides, they had to walk almost all the time, stooping low,
so as not to be seen from the highroad, on which they
noticed people walking in both directions. Unfortunately
they lost themselves in a deep glen, from which they could
not find their way out for some time. On the other hand,




472            The House of Hohenstein.
they were pleasantly surprised to discover, upon reaching the
highroad, that they were once more quite near the end of
their journey, which they had thought still far off. It was
high time. The bad road and the great heat had exhausted
their strength. Their lips were parched, and thus they could
not resist the temptation, when they reached the little inn on
the river-side, all overgrown with grape-vines, to stop for a
moment and to refresh themselves with a glass of wine.
A tall, black-eyed girl waited on them promptly and cheerfully. Ruchel noticed that the pretty girl looked stealthily
again and again at Wolfgang, and could not keep from making some remark about it. The girl answered sharply, and
Wolfgang reminded him of his indiscretion: " Drink your
wine, Ruchel, arid do not detain us. Time is precious."
He had no sooner uttered these words, than the regular
step which only a soldier's heavy boot can produce, was
heard on the pavement before the little window half hid under the leaves. Immediately the door was opened violently,
and a sergeant entered the room, rifle in hand. As he left
the door open, several other soldiers were seen outside.
The sergeant walked up to the adventurers, who had risen
from their places in great consternation. A glance at the
man's sunburnt face convinced them that they had not men
of their own regiment to encounter.
The sergeant asked them roughly for their passports.
The adventurers had prepared for such an emergency a little
story, which Ruchel recited with great glibness of tongue.
He and Wolfgang were cabinet-makers, Balthasar a tailor;
a band of rebels had robbed them in the morning of their
knapsacks, leaving the tailor only his shabby travelling bag.
They begged the sergeant not to complete their misfortunes,
after they had already lost all their little property.
The sergeant wanted to know why they had so anxiously
inquired after the position of the regular troops and the
rebels in the last village through which they had come? He
considered that very suspicious; and why had they not, like
other honest people, followed the highroad? What could
they say? Ruchel had an answer for this also:
" Great heavens, Mr. Sergeant," he cried with lachrymose
voice, "are you going to ruin us only because we have
become afraid of men? These rascally rebels rob us; the




The House of Hohenstein.          473
soldiers won't let us pass; where in the world are we poor
devils to find courage to walk about in broad daylight? But
I don't mind it; you can do with us what you choose; you
can shoot us if you like; I am tired of this miserable life."
Ruchel sat down again on his bench, supporting his head
in his hands as if in perfect despair. He had played his
part so well, that the sergeant, who did not seem to be the
brightest man in the world, seemed no longer to doubt the
truth of his statement.  Unfortunately his instructions
were of such a nature that he could not let people pass who
had no passports; he must send down to the next village
below, and report the matter to the officer in command. He
could decide whether they might continue their way; till
then they must consider themselves under arrest.
He went out, locking the only door which the room had.
"Here we are, caught in the trap," said Ruchel, looking
at his fellow-sufferers with an air which belonged half to the
miserable cabinet-maker and half to the Merry-Andrew;
"what next?"
"At all events we must not wait for the officer," said
Wolfgang; "if we only knew how many there are."
"One is watching at the window, that is certain," said
Ruchel.
At that moment a low knock was heard at a little
wooden shutter, which, as they now noticed, covered an
opening in the partition-wall. Ruchel ran to it; the shutter
was pushed aside, and through the opening appeared the
face of the pretty girl.
" Sweet child," said gallant Ruchel, "help us out, and I'll
marry you on the spot."
" I don't want you," replied the girl, snappishly.
"But my comrade?" asked Ruchel.
" He is no comrade of yours," replied the girl, very decidedly.
"What eyes these girls have! " cried Ruchel, turning
with a laughing face to Wolfgang.
"Would you help us out of this trouble, dear child?"
asked Wolfgang.
" I should like to do it! " replied the girl, promptly.
Her black eyes flashed as she said so, and a deep blush
rose upon her brown cheeks.




474            The House of Hohenstein.
" How many soldiers are there? "
"Three; two are in the room opposite; I have given
them of our best; father is in there, drinking with them; he
sent me!"
"And without that, you would not have come?"
"Yes!" said the girl, eagerly raising her dark eyelashes
again, after letting them droop for a moment on her glowing
cheeks; " brother is going to carry you over; he is gone for
the boat."
"Where do they keep their guns?"
"They are in the passage, near the door; the door is not
very strong; if you give it a violent push, it will force the
lock. I would unlock it, but they have left the door on the
other side open, and I dare not."
" And you ought not to do it, if you could. You must
not run any risk."
" Have a care; the sentinel is coming to the window!"
said Ruchel.
" Many thanks, my dear girl," said Wolfgang.
The girl closed the shutters, Wolfgang stepped quickly
back.
The sentinel came to the closed window, looked in the
room, and continued his walk up and down as he saw the
three prisoners all safe. Ruchel was wiping the tears from
his eyes with his red handkerchief.
Wolfgang told his companions his plan. At the moment
when the sentinel was farthest from the window, they were
to force the door, and rushing out, to seize the rifles. The
rest would follow as a matter of course.
Balthasar was posted at the window. Wolfgang and Ruchel seized one of the long benches to use it as a ram.
"The girl has gone out to him, and gives him some wine
to drink-he is drinking," reported Balthasar.
"Capital girl!" said Ruchel.
" One, two, three! " commanded Wolfgang.
The powerful, well-aimed push made the door break down
in an instant. Wolfgang and Ruchel nearly fell over it. In
a moment they had seized the rifles, which stood close by, as
the girl had said. Then they ran out of the house and
rushed upon the sentinel, who stood there, the bottle in one
hand, the glass in another, and the gun at rest on the ground,




The Iouse of Bo/henstein.        475
the picture of helpless terror. Ruchel had disarmed him
before he awoke from his surprise.
All this had been done so rapidly, that the two soldiers,
who had been sitting quietly over their wine in the other
room, found themselves surprised before they well knew
what had happened. Ruchel had put the third rifle into the
hands of Balthasar, who followed Wolfgang closely. The
soldiers knew that the rifles were loaded with balls, and did
not think of resistance. "The cunning landlord pretended
to be very much frightened when Wolfgang placed his bayonet on his breast, and ordered him in a terrific voice to
carry them instantly across the river in his own boat. Ruchel, understanding at once Wolfgang's plan, cursed and
swore like one possessed, and threatened to shoot the girl,
who was coquetting with soldiers instead of helping honest
men in their flight. He played the enraged man so naturally that the girl became seriously frightened, and implored
Wolfgang with folded hands and tearful eyes to save her.
Wolfgang took her hands and said: " He shall not hurt you;
but you must go with us. The old man may stay here; now
forward, march! Good-by, gentlemen! "
"Good-by!" cried Ruchel; "and when your lieutenant
comes, you can tell him, Lieutenant Baron Hohenstein and
Sergeant Ruchel send him their kindest regards!"
Wolfgang thought it was high time to make an end to the
scene. The noise had attracted the village people, who as
yet kept at a distance, but no one could tell whose part they
might take in the end. Fortunately the distance from the
inn to the ferry was inconsiderable. A boy of sixteen, whose
bright black eyes bespoke him a brother of the pretty girl,
stood near the ill-built boat, showing his white teeth as Ruchel threatened him with the butt-end of his rifle, and promised to murder him instantly if he did not at once carry
them to the other side.
Ruchel and Balthasar had entered the boat. Wolfgang
took the pretty girl by the hand, saying,
"Good-by! I wish I could thank you as you deserve it!"
The girl looked around shyly; no one had followed
them.
" God bless you!" she said, seizing Wolfgang's hands with
her own, and raising her eyes and her lips to him. Wolf



476            lhe House of Hohenstein.
gang pressed a kiss upon the fresh lips. Then he leaped
into the boat. The boy pushed off, and told them as he rowed
across that the whole village was "republican," that two of
them were over yonder with the volunteers, would the gentlemen take him with them? Ruchel was quite ready to do so,
but Wolfgang would not hear of it. "Wait a while," he
said; " now you would better go quietly home again; and
look here! don't let them find out that you took us over of
your own accord!"
He put a gold piece in the boy's hand when they touched
land, and had left the boat before the boy could recover
from his surprise at the generous reward. The others followed. From the place where they had landed, a footpath
wound upwards through meadows and grain-fields. That
was the shortest road to Eberburg, the boy had said. At
the distance of about two miles they saw the venerable
ruins on the high hill. There was no impediment now between them and the end of their long journey! Wolfgang
shook hands with his companions and cried out joyously:
"Forward, march!"
CHAPTER XII.
T   HEY had of course much to tell each other of their
last adventure. Ruchel did not tire of repeating how
frightened the soldiers were when they suddenly saw
themselves in the power of their captives. Between these
descriptions came ever and anon a word of praise for, the
pretty girl, whom he accused of having been so sharp to him,
only because he had made such a deep impression upon her.
This again led him to expound his peculiar theory of love,
which had the undoubted advantage over other theories, of
being eminently practical. The campaign upon which they
were entering, he looked upon as a pleasure trip. They
would drive the regulars before them like sheep; they would
enter triumphantly village after village and town after town;
at the end of the war he proposed to return to the scene of
his last heroic deed, to marry the brown girl, and spend the




The House of Hohenstein.         477
rest of his life amid these green hills, which produced such
delicious wine, as the jovial landlord of the " Yellow Cluster," in peace and happiness.
Thus the merry fellow laughed and chatted away; but
Wolfgang also felt somewhat elated. In the full consciousness of his youth and vigor, which he had tried in fatigue
and danger, having just escaped once more from imminent
peril, possessed of arms which he had conquered by courage
and cunning, and cheered by the great idea which he hoped
now to see realized, he enjoyed his golden freedom in full
draughts, seeing in his present enjoyment after all but a drop
of that flood of freedom which the impending conflict would
secure to the whole expectant nation. From the turrets of
that castle, the crumbling ruins of which were even now apparent through the bushes and trees of the hill-side, an inspired eye had, ages ago, looked forward to that future which
now at last had come. What then was the privileged foresight of a few, had now become the common thought of a
whole nation; or if not of a whole nation, yet of its greater
part; and is it not a law of nature that the good in the end
invariably conquers the bad? Had not those very castles,
the strongholds of tyrants and robbers, been laid low and
changed into crumbling ruins? Did not the same soil on
which once silent, trembling serfs with their own hands drew
the plough for their haughty masters, now support a nation
of bold hearts, who took the gun from the wall as soon as
the summons of Liberty was heard, to venture, full of hope
and confidence, upon the last decisive battle for their rights?
He turned to Balthasar and nearly laughed aloud at the
sight of the newly-enlisted champion of liberty. It was indeed an odd sight which the good fellow presented at that
moment. Ruchel had buckled around his waist one of the
conquered swords, the belt of which was far too large for his
slender body, and hung so low from the hips that the short
sabre trailed on the ground, like a huge battle-sword. His
rifle he carried with the butt-end behind over his shoulder;
add to this his worn-out, black-cloth dress-coat-his faithful
companion during the last twenty years-and the faded nankeen trousers which, generally scrupulously tidy, now bore
the visible traces of many a night spent in the open fields
or near charcoal kilns-thus he sauntered along, evidently




478           The House of Hohenstein.
too deep in his thoughts to mind anything else in this
world.
"How are you, Balthasar?" asked Wolfgang.
Balthasar awoke from his dreams and smiled kindly, as he
always did when Wolfgang spoke to him.
"Thank you kindly," he said; "very well; the unaccustomed load hurts me a little."
"You shall soon be relieved. There will be plenty of
men glad to take your arms."
"To tell the truth, my dear sir, I shall be very glad of it.
I really think I must look odd enough in this lion's skin."
" A few minutes' patience, and I think you will see our own
outposts."
Indeed almost immediately they saw half-a-dozen men,
two or three of whom were armed with guns, who kept themselves behind a piece of wall which probably had formerly
belonged to the outer line of the castle fortifications. As their
guns assumed a threatening direction when the wanderers
approached within about two hundred yards, Wolfgang called
out to them that they were "friends." Although their
appearance spoke eloquently in their favor, his assertion
found so little credence that the guns were discharged (without doing any harm), whereupon the valiant marksmen sought
quickly the shelter behind which they were posted.
Such an unexpected reception of course surprised Wolfgang and his companions not a little; but they had presence
of mind enough to see that it would be best not to give the
very cautious volunteers time to fire a second time. They ran,
therefore, exclaiming once more that they were " friends," as
fast as they could up to the ruins, and were lucky enough to
arrive there before the others had accomplished the troublesome business of reloading.
" Why on earth do you fire at us, gentlemen? Don't you
see that we are friends?" cried Ruchel.
" Oh! how do we know that? " replied one of the young
men, who wore a crumpled cock's feather on his dilapidated
straw-hat, and probably commanded the post.
"Well, if we were not friends, you would fare pretty badly
now," said Ruchel, holding up his Minie rifle.
" I wish otie of you to show me at once the way to your
captain," said Wolfgang, having noticed that the firing had




The House of Hohenstein.         479
evidently caused quite an alarm in the court-yard of the
castle, " so that we may avoid any further misunderstanding.
As far as I can see, there is nothing else to be done here."
"Yes, indeed! " said another youth, "we have nothing
else to do here. Let us all go up there."
The whole company broke up, therefore. The nearer they
came to the ruins, the greater seemed to become the noise
which Wolfgang had heard from a distance; and as they
entered through the unguarded gates into the court-yard,
surrounded by picturesque ruins, they beheld there the most
extraordinary spectacle.
About half-a-dozen small peasant carts, of which only a
few had horses as yet, were almost stormed by some fifty
men. As only half of them could find room, or rather had
found room, while the other half were still standing on poles
and wheels, or balancing on ladders, and as the former were
unwilling to abandon their vantage ground, while the latter
refused to run alongside on foot, there was a fearful din
raised by the excited crowd, and here and there a hand to
hand fight had begun.  There was, especially, one cart
around which the noise seemed to be even greater than elsewhere. It held only one man, whose bloated, red face was
disfigured by fear, and whom the tri-colored sash which he
wore round his waist, and the red feather on his slouched
hat, designated as the commander. The wrath of the others
seemed to be specially directed against him.
"There goes the wine-butt! " cried one.
" I should like to be such a captain! " cried another.
"To ride away in a carriage while we have to walk on
foot," said a third.
The man with the red feather turned his bleared eyes from
one to the other, unable to find a word of justification or
reply. In his helpless embarrassment he hailed the arrival
of Wolfgang and his companions, who were just coming into
the court with their escort. Here was a favorable opportunity to direct the unpleasant attention of the men into another channel, and perhaps to regain the respect he seemed
to have lost.
" Bring them here! " he cried, rising in the cart. " Here!
who are you? what do you want? How dare you fire at my
men? "




480            The House of Hohenstein.
" How dare you speak in such a tone to men who come to
you as friends? " replied Wolfgang, appreciating at a glance
the tragi-comic situation.
"I'll teach you manners!" cried the man with the
feather.
" A person who has so evidently lost the respect of his
own men, cannot expect that of strangers," said Wolfgang,
turning his back to the wretch.
A short stout man in a green hunter's coat, carrying a
short rifle under the arm, approached Wolfgang and said:
" That is right! Give it to the miserable creature!"
"But what is going on here?" asked Wolfgang.
" The men have chosen that person, who by-the-by is a
travelling agent for a wine house in the neighborhood, as
their captain-or rather, he has chosen himself, and is about
as fit for it as Nero for dancing oh a rope. Now he has
made a requisition for carts, under the plea of retreating, according to the orders he says he has received, as fast as
possible, but in reality I believe only to reach a place of
safety for himself."
"Then let him run! " said Wolfgang.
" Yes," said the man in green; "if we only had another
leader in his place. I have no talent for the business; perhaps you could do it. You would render the good cause a
great service; for if this goes on soj there will not be ten
men of the whole corps left to-night, and some of them are
capital men, who only require to be led properly."
Wolfgang's decision was quickly formed. He asked the
gamekeeper-for such was the man in green-to point out
to him the most intelligent among the men and to.help him
in forming with their aid a small, reliable company. The
man was willing. They went from cart to cart, and ere long
they had restored order. Ruchel had not been inactive in
the meantime. He had made acquaintance all around, which
meant, with him, he had made friends everywhere; but he
had especially pointed out Wolfgang to the people, telling
them, as a great secret, that he was a great man, who had
taken sides with the people, and who had more military genius
than the whole general-staff of the regular army. Not an
hour ago, he added, he had taken and killed an outpost of
the royal troops.




The House of Hohenstein.         48I
As Wolfgang's appearance and the conquered arms seemed
to corroborate Ruchel's statement, there was no difficulty in
passing the huntsman's proposition to choose Wolfgang their
leader for the present, which he proclaimed, standing on a
slight eminence. Wolfgang then made them a little speech,
in which he thanked them for their confidence and begged
them to remain steady in their determination, without which
he should have to give up the command at once. He then
arranged the men in three ranks: in the first those armed
with fire-arms, in the second those who had swords or scythes,
and in the third those who were without any arms at all.
Then he divided the whole troop into three divisions, two of
which, under the command of Ruchel and the gamekeeper
respectively, were to form the van and rear guard, while he
would command the bulk himself. Of the carts he ordered
only one to be taken for provisions and ammunition; the
others he placed at the disposal of those who preferred
going home to fighting against the enemy.
The men, animated by the best will, no sooner found out
that they had had a competent commander, than they were
completely changed. They cheered Wolfgang, and obeyed
his orders most promptly. The whole detachment started;
first the gamekeeper, who knew the whole country, with six
quick and intelligent young men; then Wolfgang with the
main body; finally Ruchel with his men. Balthasar, who
had very willingly abandoned his rifle, sword, and cartridgebox to a handsome young fellow recommended by the gamekeeper, kept by Wolfgang's side. The travelling wine agent
had escaped unobserved, leaving his tri-colored sash behind
him, which was found hidden behind a large block of stone.
CHAPTER XIII.
THUS Wolfgang found himself suddenly in a position
which gave him an opportunity of showing his military talent, while it imposed responsibilities of various kinds on his young, unpractised shoulders. The march
21




482           The House of Hohenstein.
to the village, where a larger corps was stationed, and from
which the order for the retreat had been issued, lasted longer
than he expected, as the men, unaccustomed to marching,
were hard to move.  When they at last reached the place
towards nightfall, they heard that the corps had left during
the afternoon, and no one knew whither.  Under these circumstances Wolfgang could do nothing better than to stop
in the village, the inhabitants of which, although but just
relieved of quite a heavy burden, received the new-comers
very hospitably. They were still in the first rapture of excitement, and submitted cheerfully to such demands. Wolfgang, nevertheless, was occupied far into the night in finding
quarters for all the people, and before he could lay himself
down on his bed of straw in a peasant's hut. After a refreshing sleep, he ordered a merry village musician, who had
yesterday joined his command, to blow the reveille, and contrary to his expectation-the men came up with praiseworthy
promptness, and almost in full numbers. There were, in
fact, only three wanting; and their loss, the gamekeeper
said, was a clear gain to the little corps. Now they marched
on in the direction in which it was most probable the main
body had retreated, but they had not proceeded more than
four or five miles before a messenger met them with a written order that the " Eberburg company " should occupy a
village in the mountains to the left, and there observe the
enemy till further orders.  The order was addressed to
"Captain Wohler." Wolfgang wrote on a leaf of his pocketbook that "Captain Wohler" had left his company, and
that he had been chosen to take the command, a position
which he thought it better to retain till a successor should
be appointed. He promised to carry the company to the
appointed place. The orderly galloped off. Wolfgang commanded a circle to be formed, told the men what order he
had received, and asked them if they still entrusted the command to him. He had the satisfaction to hear his question
answered by a unanimous yes and hearty cheers.
Next to his own personal influence, Wolfgang owed the
readiness with which the men followed him mainly to the gossip
of Ruchel, who did not conceal from the men that Wolfgang
had been an officer in the regular army, a fact with which he
was all the more familiar as he himself had been a sergeant




The House of Hohenstein.          483
in his company. Ruchel managed to convey all this in such
a mysterious manner, that the simple-minded rustics soon
conceived a most exalted idea of the generalship of their
leader, an impression greatly heightened by Wolfgang's
occasional orders, sending now a patrol out to cover his
flanks, and now taking some other precaution of which the men
did not see the immediate bearing, and which appeared to
them all the more scientific. Thus Wolfgang could not persuade himself to scold Ruchel for his frivolous way of talking, especially as he had, on the other hand, occasion to
admire the young man's practical abilities, his sound common sense, and his promptness whenever measures of real
importance were to be executed, and especially his really
remarkable talent of teaching the men military lessons almost in play. It did not take him long to make them give
up their disorderly manner of walking, and to teach them to
march regularly in sections; then he actually brought them
into line, and before the day had ended, they knew some of
the elementary military manceuvres tolerably well. These useful manceuvres excited the admiration of the people in all the
villages through which they marched, and excited a good
deal of ambition among the men themselves. So man volunteers came and offered their services, that Wolfgang could
easily have doubled his numbers; but he only accepted
those who were armed, sending the others back to the main
body as unsuited for the outpost duty which he was ordered to perform.
When Wolfgang had chosen his position, he had every
reason to be satisfied with this precaution. The village was
small; the inhabitants were poor peasants, who had hardly
enough for themselves. Fortunately the weather was so fine
as to make the question of quarters easy enough. Under
Ruchel's direction and with the aid of the gamekeeper, they
erected a couple of barracks at a suitable place outside of
the village; and although they consisted only of stones, turf,
and branches, the men were far more comfortable there
than in the low, damp rooms of the cottages. It was not
quite so easy to procure provisions for so many men in this
remote mountain region. In vain did Wolfgang repeatedly
mention his necessities in the reports which he sent daily
to the main body to which his company was attached. He




484            The House of Hohenstein.
either received no answer at all, or the words: "We have
nothing to spare ourselves; everybody for himself! " Nor
did they seem at headquarters to notice the change in the
command.   The orders were now addressed to "Captain
Hohenstein," and that was all. Although this easy way of
managing affairs appeared at times very ludicrous to Wolfgang-especially when compared with the red-tape system
which characterized the regular army down to the smallest trifles-he felt on the other hand how his own responsibilities
were thus increased. The small remnant of his own funds
could not possibly suffice long for the wants of so many,
even where prices were as low as they were here. As he
had the loaves distributed which he had purchased with his
last dollar, he asked himself, smiling, what Uncle Peter
would have said if he had known how his money was spent?
As the next day brought neither money nor provisions, he had
to resort to "promises to pay" on the provisional government, if he did not wish to abandon his position or to send
the men home. But in order not to bear the sole responsibility of such a measure, he sent the gamekeeper, who
offered himself for the errand, with a detailed report to
headquarters. The man promised to return with all possible dispatch, and started on his way through the mountains.
Amid these daily increasing cares it was a real comfort
to Wolfgang to find himself, in the finest summer weather, in
a country in which nature made ample amends for the want
of fertility by an abundance of romantic beauty. The mountains sloped from the village downwards in several terraces,
spreading far into the wide, fertile plain. On the right and
left, as in a vast semicircle, wooded hills extended till they
merged in the blue horizon. Behind the village, spruces and
pines climbed up the hill, while a foaming mountain brook
sought its way into the valley, falling in countless cascades
over sharp-edged rocks. Often, when the setting sun still
further enhanced the charm of such a landscape, marking
the ridge of the mountains in sharp lines against the bright
evening sky, and deepening the shades in the low valleys
and glens, while in the plain red fiery lights were still sparkling on the waters, and gradually fading away till one uniform gray clothed valley and mountain alike in its mournful
garb-Wolfgang would sit above the village, on a projecting




The House of Hohenstein.          485
rock, from which he commanded the whole prospect, with
Balthasar by his side, the good, faithful friend, whose company was specially pleasant to him on such occasions.
For no one could have a more susceptible eye for the
beauties of nature, or a keener ear for all the wonderful
tongues in which it speaks to us, than Balthasar. As he himself, in his touching modesty and harmless existence, resembled a plant, which accepts rain and sunshine with like
humility, or the birds of the heavens that sow not and reap
not and are yet fed by their great Father on high, so there
was no flower springing from the ground that he did not
know and welcome as a sister; there was no bird in the air
whom his eye did not follow on his swift wing with a kindly
smile. And as he loved plants and animals; they seemed to
love him in return. Wholesome herbs, which others pass
unnoticed, graceful flowers which the amateur looks for
eagerly, all were right there by the wayside for him, the nearsighted man, as if they had been waiting for him. Birds
which generally avoid the neighborhood of men, came fluttering up to him; the wildest dogs were silent when he approached, and jumped up at him wagging their tais and
licking his hands.
The strange man had not touched a weapon since that
first day; but he had assumed a position which in war often
requires more bravery and cold-blooded valor than that of
the soldier in array of battle. He had become the surgeon
of the company. Many a brave boy, whose sore feet would
carry him no farther, owed to the lotions of the " doctor," as
they all called him, his ability to rise and walk once more;
many a one, whom excessive fatigue had laid on the sickbed, was cured in marvellously short time by Balthasar's
poultices and decoctions. In return, Balthasar was universally loved and esteemed. Not even the wildest of the men
-and there was no lack of such in the company-would
venture upon the slightest allusion to the old-fashioned dresscoat, which had been restored to its usual tidiness, or the
faded nankeen trousers, which looked odder than ever with
their numerous patches.
But Balthasar was not a physician for the body only, but
also for the soul. Indecent songs, such as these rough men
were wont to sing at night in camp, immediately ceased when




486            The House of Hohenstein.
his unsightly figure appeared, and quarrels were allayed by
a soft word from his lips, or a single glance from his gentle
blue eyes. Once Wolfgang had severely reprimanded a man
who had been guilty of a gross neglect of duty, and dismissed him from the company when he proved obstinate
and impertinent. He had left, amid curses and imprecations. An hour afterwards the same man came back to
Wolfgang, begging his pardon, and humbly imploring him to
let him return to the company. When Wolfgang asked what
on earth could have produced such a great change of mind,
the man said, amid tears, that " the doctor had talked to him,
and made him see what a wicked, ungrateful man he had
been."
It was not without a feeling akin to reverence that Wolfgang had noticed this quiet, beneficent activity of his friend.
The higher, however, his esteem for the excellent man rose
with every day, the more painfully he felt the difference in
their views on the revolution. Balthasar did not conceal
his disappointment at the true nature of the rising for a moment. He did not believe that violence could produce peace.
Humanity, he thought, could not be improved by rousing all
the worst passions of the human heart; the arch-enemy of
man, selfishness, could be overcome only by great love; and
to his mind, revolutions were only symptoms, showing the
progress of the malady, but by no means indicating a near
recovery and increased strength.
Such views reminded Wolfgang very forcibly of similar
utterances which he had often heard from Munzer's lips,
though in a different connection, and with a different coloring. This led him to speak of his old friend, and now he
found, to his great surprise, that Balthasar was quite familiar
with Munzer's views. " I fear," he said, among other things,
" that your friend does not believe in the very men whom he
wishes to improve; that he respects the working classes, for
whom he ostensibly fights, just as little as the nobles and
landed proprietors; and that if he had succeeded in making
the former the rulers in the state, the relations might have
been different, but by no means better. What does it mean,
to say, labor must rule? A society, such as I imagine, must
be ruled by no one class, but by all, under the control of
reason. To make the laboring classes rulers, would only be




The House of Hohenstein.          487
carrying the disease to another part of the system, but not
curing it."
When Wolfgang tried to defend his friend against such reproaches as these, and in his effort to excuse him also mentioned Munzer's domestic relations as a cause of his cheerless
views, Balthasar was apt to become more excited than Wolfgang had ever seen him. It pained him inexpressibly in his
heart, he said, to see again and again with what ingenuity
men warred against their own happiness, and transformed
even the sweetest and holiest relations into a source of misfortune and wretchedness.
Wolfgang was sorry to have led the conversation to a subject which must needs be extremely painful to poor Balthasar. He resolved never again to touch that sore point in
his friend's heart.
One effect of these conversations was to make the young
man more and more anxious to learn what had become of
Munzer, and, if possible, to join him once more. He had
not doubted that his friends had escaped after the night of
horrors at Rheinfeld, else Balthasar would have heard of
them during the day he spent in Cologne.
To his great delight, the very next day brought him the
fulfilment of his wishes, at least in part. The gamekeeper
returned from headquarters with a small escort of armed
men, bringing money, and upon a farm-wagon the arms and
ammunition which were so sadly needed; finally an order
from headquarters, in which the election of " Captain Hohenstein " was officially confirmed, his measures approved, and
he himself ordered to fall back immediately upon the main
body of the army. He was not to engage in any conflict
unless he should see a clear advantage to be gained by fighting.
The order was signed: Degenfeld, major, etc.
There were a few lines added in Degenfeld's own handwriting: " My dear friend, long lost and found again! Come as
soon as the important commission entrusted to you will permit you to come. I am anxious to see you. Munzer, who
is engaged in one of the bureaus, is absent on business. I
expect him back in a few days; perhaps you will be here
before him. I hope we shall soon meet as happy as men
can be in this sublunar world! "




488            The House of Hohenstein.
Half an hour later, " Captain Hohenstein " and his company had left the village. The vanguard of the regulars,
which entered it half an hour afterwards, under command
of Colonel Hohenstein, found the ashes still hot on the fireplaces. The colonel determined to punish these " dogs of
republicans " for their impudence, and detached a battalion
in pursuit. In the evening, active firing was heard higher
up in the mountains. Only towards nightfall the battalion
returned in a condition which confirmed the words of the
commanding officer: " that the rebels had been admirably
led and had been fighting like devils."
--'0-~
CHAPTER XIV.
W    HEN Wolfgang, on the third day, reached headquarters, Degenfeld received him with open arms and
tears in his eyes.
"Pardon me this unmanly weakness," he said, "but I
have mourned you as dead, and I cannot tell you how rejoiced I am to press you once more in my arms. When I
thought I had lost you, I felt how dear you had become to
me. I am proud of you, dear Wolfgang. You have shown
great military ability under very trying circumstances. Your
successful fight against a force six times as strong as your
own, is a superb deed of arms, and your retreat through the
mountains quite a masterpiece."
Wolfgang felt reluctant to accept such praise, but Degenfeld came back to it repeatedly in the course of the confidential conversation in which the two friends communicated
to each other what had befallen them since the night at
Rheinfeld. Degenfeld and Munzer had, with Cajus and a
few others, fought their way down to the river, had crossed it
in a boat, and walked all that night along the opposite shore;
on the next morning early, they had gone on board a
steamer, the captain of which was known to Munzer as belonging to their party, and thus they had found themselves,
a few hours later, beyond the reach of danger. They had




The House of Hohenstein.         489
then continued their journey without detection through the
revolutionized province to the seat of the provisional government, which received them joyfully. Degenfeld had thought
it best to remain in the position which he had assumed on
the day of his arrival, although higher places, and even that
of commander-in-chief, had been offered to him. "You
know, dear Wolfgang," he said, "that I do not believe I
have any talent for command; as an officer on the general's
staff I thought I could serve the good cause, but I must confess that I have lost that hope also."
He then gave Wolfgang a description of the provisional
government and of the state of the revolutionary army,
which Wolfgang's own experiences convinced him was by no
means exaggerated. "There is want of everything," said
Degenfeld, "except marvellous self-conceit and incredible
recklessness, which would be ludicrous in the extreme
if the circumstances were different. You know how little
I think of our army organization at home; but with all
its pedantry and red tape, it is at least a compact mass,
imposing by its mere weight. But here all is chaos. We
have neither arms nor ammunition, and no means are taken
to -procure any. Everybody does what he chooses, and in
nine cases out of ten he chooses badly. We live as if we
were lying in Abraham's bosom, and in twenty-four hours
the enemy will be at our gates; they ought in fact to be
here now, if their timidity was not even greater than their
slowness. I try in vain to advise these people what they
ought to do in order to prevent our whole army from being
captured in these mountains like mice in a trap. They do
not listen to me:' Kossuth did so and so; we must do as
Kossuth did.'  With this mysterious Shibboleth they meet
all my arguments. I repeat it, I have given up all hopes
of a successful campaign."
"And Munzer?"
"Munzer calls for a war of destruction by the workingmen and the poor in town and country against the ruling
classes. That has been his aim for some time. His share
in our movement is evidently not in harmony with his principles. He is perfectly conscious of it, and quite angry at
himself now for having joined us in this war. He also has
made attempts to bring organization into the chaos that pre2 *




490            The House of rohenstein.
vails here, but as unsuccessfully as I did. Since that time
he has become quite bitter and misanthropic, so that he
avoids all meetings with me, even in spite of our intimacy
in Cologne, where I was at last the only friend with whom
he conversed. He has no intercourse now with any one
except Cajus, his evil genius, as I have often called the mysterious man."
"But did vou not formerly think very well of that man?"
"I cannot deny that," replied Degenfeld. "He is beyond
doubt a very superior man, whose valor, presence of mind,
and iron will, everybody must admire who comes in close
contact with him and can appreciate these qualities. The
man must have suffered extreme losses or sorrows to have
become what he is: that is why I do not judge him, although
I never feel comfortable in his presence. I consider him
capable of doing anything and everything for the purpose of
carrying out his ideas. There is no heart in the man; for
with the only passion which fills his whole being, his fierce,
inexorable hatred of aristocrats, the heart has nothing to do.
And who is not an aristocrat in his eyes? I am one, you are
one, and I really think he does not even look upon Munzer
as an exception. And what is the most curious part, is this:
I believe Munzer dislikes the man quite as much as I do.
For I have found out that Munzer is in truth a thoroughly
aristocratic nature. He is quite as much so in his thoughts
as in his taste. Whatever is vulgar or ordinary, is painful
to him, intolerable, and contemptible. His soul delights in
the beautiful, the great. I always feel as if he had been
born to live in a higher sphere than our ordinary every-day
life, in which he might have been as happy as he is unhappy
now. Hostile fate has called him to life in a hut, and not in
a palace; and has given him, with the instinct of a lion, the
yoke of an ox to bear. Thus his whole life is a chain of
contradictions; he likes me because I am an aristocrat, and
admires in Cajus the rigid consistency of a republican commonist. He has married a plain, insignificant girl, to do his
duty as a simple citizen; and he worships Antonia because
she is in everything the precise contrast to his wife. You
see, dear Wolfgang, I criticize my friend sharply, but I
would not take such a liberty if he were not my friend, or
rather, if I were not his friend."




The House of Hohenstein.          49I
Wolfgang had been too long a warm friend and an ardent
admirer of Munzer-however his opinion might have changed
of late-not to make him take up his defence with great feeling. He insisted upon it, that an insignificant woman, who
moreover, purposely and from a feeling of false shame, concealed the better part of her own self from her husband's
eyes, was more to blame than the husband. Degenfeld
would not admit that.
" A woman, such as you describe Clara Munzer," he said,
"only conceals her virtues, as the sensitive plant closes its
leaves, when light and heat are wanting for natural development. Munzer has no such warmth, no bright sunshine
to give; the fiery passions of his soul are incompatible with
the genial warmth of the fireside. Talent is required for
everything, even for the duties of a father of a family. I
would probably have had that talent; Munzer has it not.
But now come, captain, you were going to show me your
company, then we must wait upon the members of the provisional government; you will see, to your surprise, how easy
it is to live-and to govern."
Degenfeld had appointed a rendezvous for that purpose
in one of the hotels of the city, where the principal men of the
revolution were in the habit of meeting at night. Wolfgang
was standing in a circle of men, who were expounding to
him that mysterious dogma: Kossuth did so; ergo, we do
so! when he felt a hand lightly laid on his shoulder. He
turned round.: it was Degenfeld. The man's fine face bore the
expression of sad, mournful solemnity, so that Wolfgang immediately left the circle, and asked him if anything special
had happened? Degenfeld took him by the arm and led him
in silence out of the room into the large, quiet garden behind
the hotel. Wolfgang, whose mind was wholly filled with political and military matters, thought the crisis had come in
which Degenfeld's sad prophecies were to be fulfilled.  I
am prepared for the worst," he said; "speak out: our retreat is cut off, and nothing is left but to die on the battlefield?"
" That would not terrify either of us, I believe," said Degenfeld, with a peculiar, melancholy sadness in his voice,
" for the death we die is more or less at all times in our own
hand; but the life of others is written in a book of which




492            The House of Heohiestein.
we only now and then catch a glimpse, and the closing chapter of which is, therefore, apt to surprise us. I have received
news from Cologne, Wolfgang, from a correspondent who
stands in nearer relations to you than to me-from your
uncle, Peter Schmitz."
"Then my father is dead? " said Wolfgang, with trembling lips.
"You have said it, dear Wolfgang! " replied -Degenfeld,
sadly.
"And I have killed him!-have at least helped to kill
him! " cried Wolfgang, hastily withdrawing his arm from
Degenfeld's. "Do not deceive me! My father was perfectly well when I left him-he did not die a natural death!
I know it, although you will not tell me so. His circumstances were in a bad condition-he spoke of it calmly-but I
ought not to have been deceived by his calmness. I was his
last hope-I have robbed him of that hope. I ought to have
made this last sacrifice for him-but, Major Degenfeld, could
I do so?-could I sacrifice my honor? "
Wolfgang pressed Degenfeld's hands, and stared anxiously
in his face.
"No, you were not at liberty to do so," replied Major
Degenfeld, with a firm voice. " Come, Wolfgang, you are a
man. A man has a right to see clearly all that concerns
him, be it what it may. Your father died by his own hand;
his circumstances were in a bad condition, but even if you
had sacrificed your honor-and that was out of questionyou could not have saved him. He was beyond all saving
power on earth. I knew your father, Wolfgang, when we
were both young officers in the same regiment-; we were
friends; I liked him much, for he was very attractive, as attractive as good looks, graceful manners, and much sprightliness can make a man. But he lacked what makes a real
man of a man: loyalty and truthfulness. He never took
life in earnest. I was then already afraid he would end
badly; for he who looks upon life as a gay, frivolous game,
must in the end play false, whether he will or not. Thus
your father has at last played false, and has been forced to
cover the deficit in the treasury which was entrusted to his
care, with his life. Poor, dear friend! I should have liked
so much to spare you this grief! But you would have heard




The House of Hohenstein.         493
it sooner or later, and I am proud enough to think you are
attached to me, and will allow me to help you in bearing
what is almost too much for one to bear alone."
Wolfgang threw himself on the bosom of his noble friend.
Degenfeld was deeply moved. " See what you can do with
me," he said. " I am old enough to be your father, and God
knows how proud I should have been to have had such a
son! Or take me as your brother; I feel quite young again
in you; that I am your friend, you know, I hope, by this
time! "
CHAPTER XV.
AT Wolfgang's request, Major Degenfeld had given him
his Uncle Peter's letter, which contained the details of
the alderman's death, as far as they were known in
town. Wolfgang saw that his father could not have been
saved, as Degenfeld said. The necessary legal inquiries had
shown that he had for years lived only at the expense of his
creditors; even considerable sums which he had received
from the general for Wolfgang's military education and support, had been swallowed up by his insatiable indebtedness.
This last discovery brought deep blushes to Wolfgang's
cheeks. While he had used the utmost economy, his father
had no doubt presented him to the old general, and probably
to the whole family, as a heartless prodigal; for during the
whole of his military career he had not spent the tenth part
of the sum which his father had received from the general
on his son's account.
It was a terrible night, this night in which Wolfgang thus
squared accounts with his father, and wiped the cold perspiration from his brow, as he sat by the open window in the
warm night-air. Several times he thought he heard a noise
at his door; it was Balthasar, who could not sleep from
anxiety for his " young master," who had at last learned the
mournful secret which he had so long locked up in his faithful bosom. But Wolfgang could not open the door; he felt
that he was not able to continue this solemn interview with
death and with crime before a witness.




494            The House of Hohenstein.
All who knew Wolfgang noticed the great change which
from that day took place in his whole being, even externally.
The lines in his manly, handsome face became sharper,
his kindly mouth closed more firmly, and the glance of his
eyes was more severe and searching; even his carriage became somewhat stiffer, and his step more even. He was
filled with the proud instinct of the true man to bear his
sorrow in solitude, and in this he went so far that he even
took off the ring Ottilia had sent him, and which he had worn
so far as a kind of talisman, in order thus symbolically to
end his connection with so pure a being. But his inner
strength was great enough to enable him to master this hypochondriac tendency in a short time, and, fortunately for
him, the time and the position of things were such as to enable him soon to forget his private sorrow in the public misfortune.
What.Degenfeld and other experienced men had long
foretold, had at last come to pass. The revolutionary army
had been compelled to retreat hastily, rolled back as it were
by an enemy infinitely superior in numbers, who slowly
advanced his columns, as if they were simply obeying the
law of gravity, upon the open highways of the defenceless
country. A battle in the open field, such as had been boastingly announced a few days ago, was out of question, and
few were wise enough to see that the retreat must degenerate into wild flight, if no effort was made at least to check
the immense masses of the enemy's troops, which could
not be defeated. Up to the last moment Degenfeld had
urged this measure in the helpless council of war, and
offered to take the command of the rear-guard himself. The
only answer was, he might take any command he chose, if
he could only find troops to command.
Degenfeld hastened to Wolfgang.
"Can you rely on your company, Wolfgang?"
"I believe I can answer for my men."
"Then hold yourself in readiness; in an hour we march
upon the enemy. How strong are you?"
" I have now, all told, four hundred men. I might have
twice as many, but I refused all but the most serviceable."
" All the better. I suppose I can muster a couple of hundred more. What we lack in numerical strength, we must




The House of Hohenstein.          495
make up in quickness and boldness-two qualities which are
fortunately not abundant with our adversaries."
On this day Munzer and Cajus returned to town from
their mission. The city looked like an immense bee-hive,
from which the bees are preparing to swarm. Pushing their
way through a crowd of horsemen and infantry, baggage
carts and ammunition carts, which rolled towards them, cursing, rattling, and thundering, they reached an open square,
where Degenfeld and Wolfgang were just inspecting their
little corps before setting out. Munzer was furious at the
miserable state of things, which far surpassed his worst anticipations. Degenfeld and Wolfgang proposed to him to
accompany them, rather than to be carried away, against his
will, by the current of general confusion. Munzer was quite
ready. " Anything," he exclaimed, " rather than this misery,
which has only legs, but no hands and no heads. My mission was as useless as every step which I have taken here.
I'll go with you. I am fit for nothing, I fear, except to be shot
down!"
Cajus smiled with his usual dark smile at this explosion
of his impassioned companion. He did not say a word, but
silently took a rifle from a half-grown youth who just then
ran by them on his flight, shouldered it, and put himself in
the ranks. The major drew his sword, and gave the command: "To the right! Forward! march! "
— o —
CHAPTER XVI.
T    HOSE were hot months-the months of June and July
of the year eighteen hundred and forty-nine. The
bright sun in the blue sky shone brilliantly down
upon the rustling woods, the waving fields of grain, and the
green vineyards of this paradise of a land through which
the grim furies of war were raging. In the woods and on
the vine-clad hills firing was heard; the silent glens of the
mountains now re-echoed the thunder of heavy guns; the
hoofs of horses destroyed pitilessly the golden grain; and the




496            The House of Hohenstein.
sky-lark rose to the clouds, bearing on her wings the blood
that had trickled upon her peaceful nest, in this war between
brethren.
Those were hot months-and not the least so for the brave
little corps which, under Degenfeld and Wolfgang, had boldly
thrown itself in the face of the enemy, contending with him
every foot of ground that could possibly be defended by
human valor and human ingenuity. They had often barely
escaped from imminent destruction; they had to deplore
the loss of many a brave comrade. Always the last on a retreat, always the first in the attack, they had often been for
whole days without communication with the army; and if
they occasionally appeared at headquarters, it was only to
leave their wounded, to obtain more ammunition, and to return
without delay to their post of danger. No one held them;
no one sent them; they went because they chose to go.
A strange corps! Little fit for parade, but, to the eye of
the soldier, full of promise; defiant faces, blackened by dust,
sun, and perspiration; powerful frames in ragged blouses and
torn boots; the cartridge-boxes fuller than the knapsacks,
of which only a third of the whole number could boast;
their faithful rifle at rest, as it suited the owner, marching in
silence, but swift of foot and indefatigable-such they appeared in the misty dews of the mountains early as morning broke; and often, a few hours later, fierce relentless fighting filled those remote valleys.
Then " Degenfeld's brigade" soon became well known to
the enemy also. They knew the small but terrible corps
which always attacked at the most inconvenient time, and at
the point where it was least expected, and with equal bravery
in the charge or in sudden and mysterious retreat; they knew
that it was under the command of officers who had gone
over to the rebels; and they even knew, thanks to their spies,
that Degenfeld and Wolfgang were the highest in command.
Since then there was always a special eagerness visible in the
ranks of the battalions of the regular army when they were
sent out under fire and heard that they were to encounter
" Degenfeld's brigade." The officers, itwas said, had pledged
their word to catch the " deserters " dead or alive. Such, at
least, was the report of the prisoners they had taken on
various occasions. They said that the colonel of the ninety



The House of Hohenstein.         497
ninth regiment of infantry, Baron Hohenstein, was especially
furious. He had repeatedly expressed, among his officers,
the hope that they would not punish him for the disgrace of
having a relative in the republican rabble; he had also threatened to cut down with his own sword any soldier whom he
should find shirking his duty when under fire. The prisoners
had, therefore, been quite willing to be taken, and said that
many more would act likewise if fear did not keep them.
"They shall not take us alive, Wolfgang," said Degenfeld,
putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.
" Even if we should have to fall upon our swords, like Brutus and Cassius," replied Wolfgang, smiling.
" Ah, if we had but to do with a Caesar," said Degenfeld,
sighing, "death would not be so bitter!  You know I
would not swear allegiance to Caesar, but I would leave him
the world which has no longer room for a freeman. Yes,
looking at the matter carefully, a Caesar might be a blessing
for this beloved, many-headed monster of a country of ours."
" Do not let your friends over there hear that," said Wolfgang, pointing at Munzer and Cajus, who were lying under a
tree at some distance, conversing in an undertone.
A man in a blouse, whose tri-colored sash marked him
out as an officer, approached the two with a stiff, military
salute, his hand on his weather-beaten slouched hat, and
said: "Permit me, major?"
"Will you not sit down with us, lieutenant?" asked
Degenfeld, smiling.
" Thanks, major! But I have to superintend first the
cleaning of the rifles. Have to report that the three prisoners from the ninety-ninth regiment want to enlist.  Good
men, major, and we have had no recruits to make up for
our losses."
"What do you say, Wolfgang? " asked Degenfeld.
" I think we can rely on our friend Lieutenant Ruchel,"
replied Wolfgang.
"Then take them in your company, Ruchel. But watch
them well; place them, the first opportunity you have, on an
exposed post, and see how they behave; if they do well, tant
mieux, all the better! " Degenfeld added, correcting himself, as he noticed that Ruchel cast an inquiring look at
Wolfgang.




498            The House of Hohaestein.
"Aye, aye, sir!" said.Ruchel, raising his hand again to
his hat and turning on his heel.
"It is strange," said Degenfeld, when Ruchel had left
them, "how the cue will hang down our neck long after it
has been cut off. I cannot get accustomed to look upon
this man as an officer, although I admire his military ability,
and we all like him dearly on account of his excellent qualities. Why? Simply because I have known him so long in
the coarse uniform of a sergeant, and because his manner
of expressing himself is not the most elegant in the world.
And I doubt if he does not feel the same. Although we treat
him as an equal, I apprehend he does not look upon himself as such. And if we, who claim to be sensible men, are
so foolish, how can we expect more from others? I begin
to agree with your friend Balthasar about his'quiet' revolution. It looks as if we could only kill one another without
improving or converting each other."
"That would be Cajus's theory," said Wolfgang, "for I
think he says that a generation which cannot be improved or
converted ought to be destroyed!"
" And that will come to pass," said Degenfeld. "The old
generation will perish in the desert of the revolution, in
order that the new generation may obtain possession of the
promised land. You, dear Wolfgang, belong already to the
new generation; you are a modern man. With us old people, nothing can be done any more. We must be cut down
and thrown into the fiery oven of the world's history."
Major Degenfeld said this in a semi-humorous tone,
through which, however, his melancholy, his solemn, disheartening conviction became clearly visible.  It was not
the first time he had spoken thus. Wolfgang had seen this
sad feature in his friend's character come out more and
more prominently, and he understood now only too clearly
why Degenfeld had always denied himself the capacity of
playing a prominent part in a great revolution. He was a
republican in spirit, but not in his heart-in his imagination, but not in his blood and his innermost soul.  His
inclinations were all peaceful; his only passion was study.
Bitter, bloody conflict was altogether foreign to his nature.
But all the greater was Wolfgang's admiration for the excellent mar. He alone knew what this fair, harmonious soul




The House of H]ohenstein.        499
had to suffer amid all these discords; he alone knew what
an effort this man had to make in order to bear calmly the
bloody consequences of his theories.
There was actually some affinity of thought between Degenfeld and Balthasar, and this was no doubt the motive
which led them to be much in each other's company. For
hours Degenfeld would chat in camp or on the march with
his "modern Socrates," as he called him in jest. He
praised the rich store of knowledge which Balthasar had
acquired in his solitary studies, and quite as much his childlike purity of heart and infinite kindness. "That man
makes us all blush," he said often to Wolfgang; "he is at
all times what we wish to be in our best hours. I should
envy him his peace of mind, if I were not afraid thus to forfeit the last claim I may have on Cajus's respect."
Cajus made indeed no concealment of his contempt for
Balthasar, although, of course, he did not speak of it openly
to Degenfeld and Wolfgang. But he was all the more open
to Munzer. He called Balthasar " an emotional enthusiast,
the very companion for such dreamers as Wolfgang and
Degenfeld." He said it was nonsense to bring such a man
in the field, at the sight of whom men forgot already what
courage was.
Poor Munzer had of late become more gloomy and morose
than ever; he lived in almost perfect solitude. Only with
Cajus he seemed to feel well; and that cold reserved man,
for his part, seemed likewise to feel in Munzer alone a genuine, warm interest. Munzer had refused to serve in any
other capacity than a private soldier in the little corps, which
was sadly in want of capable officers. Cajus had at least
consented to command a small detachment, for which post
he was eminently qualified by great military talent. In their
deliberations, also, Munzer rarely took part; only now and
then he would in a few words give his views, always preferring those of the opposition and always supporting Cajus.
Even his outward appearance had changed in a most painful manner. His noble head, which he formerly bore proudly
aloft, bent forward; his eyes, once so bright and eloquent,
steadily fixed on the ground, he would march by the hour in
perfect silence, not uttering a sound, and showing in his
movements that even the physical strength of his body was




500            The House of Hohenstein.
broken. Only when he was under fire, the burden that oppressed his soul seemed to be lighter.  When the rifles
cracked and the minie balls were whistling around their
heads or came crashing through the branches, he breathed
freely; then his cheeks colored up and his eyes flashed; he
talked and even joked with those who stood near him, the
merrier the greater the danger was. He exposed himself
even so constantly to most imminent danger, that the superstitious minds in the corps hardly doubted but that the
doctor was invulnerable, while Wolfgang became sadly convinced that Munzer was seeking death.
He told him so one evening, when they had retreated to
a comparatively sheltered position after a hot skirmish with
the enemy's outposts. Munzer assented very calmly, "I
have lived long enough," he said, "to know that men such
as I am do not suit this world. Life may be invaluable to
happy men; but it is impudence or absurdity, or both at
once, to impose it upon those who are unhappy. Life has
only a relative value, which each one must determine for
himself; for nobody is in his neighbor's skin, or feels with his
neighbor's heart, or thinks with his brain. Now, when the
value of life has fallen below zero, it is no longer a virtue,
but a disgrace to live. The ancients thought in this respect,
as in many others, more wisely than we do with our pretentious transcendental morality.
"I think I may speak about that as freely as about the
work in which we are engaged, for I have worked hard to be
happy-I have worked hard for the freedom and the unity
of my native land. However my friends may disapprove of
my course, they cannot deny me that. When anybody has
been hard at work day after day for twenty years on the
same great task, as I have been, and he sees then that all
his labor has been in vain and his great work is a failurecan you blame him if he feels as if his life was as much a
failure as his work? Our revolution has miscarried, miserably miscarried. The heaving mountain has brought forth a
mouse. Our cause-I mean the cause for which I have
labored, fought, and suffered-was decided a year ago, when
Cavaignac's chain-shot crushed the only true socialistic revolution in the streets of Paris. Since then I have been a
man whose strength has been broken, whose -life has been




The House of Hohenstein.         50o
ruined. I can only enrich the soil with my blood, that it
may bring forth in future days the seed of a better freedom
than that which can now thrive only in the shadow of thirtysix thrones which must not be touched, and of countless
churches which are looked upon as holy places."
"And your family? " asked Wolfgang, quietly but decidedly. "Your wife? Your children?"
Deep, dark shadows fell upon Munzer's features.
" My children," he said, slowly and as if speaking to himself, " are provided for. And my wife-  "
He rested his head on his hand, and murmured.
" Poor wife! You deserved a better fate! It was an illstarred day, the day on which we saw each other for the first
time. We might not have been happy, either of us, but we
should have been spared at least the sorrow of having made
each other wretched. Ah, Wolfgang! human life is a sad,
mournful thing! I should not like to live it over again even
if I could thus become a god. I shudder at this working
which has no result, this seeking which never finds, these
joys which vanish like smoke, and these sorrows that consume us with their fire! All this is sad enough when we
experience it in ourselves; but the measure of woe overflows
when our sufferings cause others to suffer, or when their grief
is added to our own."
He pressed his friend's hand and went off through the
wood in the direction where the outposts of the corps stood,
under Cajus's command, in the immediate neighborhood of
the enemy.
-----
CHAPTLER XVII.
THE moon had already risen, and was bathing the tops
of the pine-trees in its ghost-like light, while the
night-breeze was gently rustling in the branches.
Below, however, between the mighty trunks, it was still oppressively hot after the fierce summer day. The unhappy
man walked on, as if in a dismal distressing dream. He
did not think of the path-only of death! He cocked his




502           The House of Hohenstein.
rifle mechanically, and placed the butt-end on the ground.
Then it occurred to him that the sharp explosion would startle out of their sleep all the poor fellows who were now resting from their bloody work-that it might even betray their
position to the enemy. So he took his rifle up again, with
that self-denial with which a weary traveller goes by a shady
resting-place in order to reach the sooner the end of his
journey. He breathed more freely as he stepped out of the
close, dark air, upon a clearing in the forest where Degenfeld had posted the main-guard. They were too near the
enemy to light a fire; the men were lying, wrapped in their
cloaks, in the shade of the trees, on the mossy carpet; a few
only were walking about in the open space, where the moonlight fell glittering upon the bright barrels of stacked rifles,
discussing in an undertone the events of the day.
Munzer threw himself, at some distance from the others,
on the ground, staring fixedly before him, and with his heart
in an agony. A large figure detached itself from the dark
back-ground of the wood opposite him, and came across the
clearing.  It was Cajus. He stretched himself alongside
of Munzer and said:
" You seem to suffer more than usually, doctor?"
"I do not possess a body of iron like yourself."
"Your body would be strong enough-I know such thingsif your heart were only to beat less restlessly in your bosom."
Show me how to do that."
"Live as I do, and I wager all I have to nothing, that
you will never more complain of palpitation of the heart."
"My life never had a sunny spring day! "
"I know. But for that I should never have cared a copper for you any more than for all the rest of our miserable
race. Only unhappy men understand each other. I hate
happy men; they belong to a different race. There is as little
in common between them and, us as between white people
and red-skins! "
Munzer looked into the deep-brown face, framed in an
immense shaggy beard, upon which the full light of the
moon was then falling, so that the white in the eye shone
supernaturally.  He felt as if he had never before seen
Cajus thus; involuntarily he moved a little from the extraordinary companion.




The House of Hohenstein.          503
"Don't move, doctor," said Cajus, with a low, hoarse
laugh. "Although a good deal of blood has stained my
hands, it has all been shed in honest fight or grim self-defence. But I know that a day will come when I shall not
kill, but murder, murder with delight. I have anticipated
that joyful time for thirty days."
"And who is it that has offended you so grievously?"
"A near relative of your young friend, that aristocrat
whom I hate for the sake of his mere name, as I hate his
whole accursed race. I mean Colonel Baron Gisbert Hohenstein!"
Cajus ground his teeth with fury, and murmured a fearful
curse in his shaggy beard.
" How can that be?" Munzer asked in amazement. " I
do not think you have seen the colonel more than twice or
thrice since you came to Cologne. Were you ever before?"
"In Cologne?" said Cajus, interrupting him; "I am not
an American by birth, although I am a naturalized citizen.
I was born in Cologne; my real name is-but that does not
matter. My father was a drunkard, my mother still worse;
I grew up in the very mud and mire of society. But I was
proud, very proud, and wanted to rise in the world. I loved
a girl, who had grown up in poverty like myself, but who had
kept herself pure and chaste in the midst of temptation, and
for her sake I also had remained honest and blameless.
Colonel Hohenstein was then an ensign in my company.
He was a wild, lawless creature, and had long been running
after my girl. One night he met me in the street, walking
home with her; we lived in the same house, and she had
been so late at work in a family which was to leave town
early next morning. He was patrolling the streets, and had
us both arrested. They carried us to the guard-house; I
was thrown into a dark hole; the poor girl I know not
where. But when they dismissed me next day, they brought
the corpse of the unfortunate girl home. She had drowned
herself in the river to hide her disgrace. A fortnight later
I was once more arrested and tried for an attempt to murder
my superior officer. There were attenuating circumstances,
as they called it, and my sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life with a chain and ball. One day, when we




504            The House of Hohenstein.
were cutting trees on the glacis, I escaped and made my
way to France. Then I went to Spain, fought against the
corsairs, was captured, sold as a slave into the interior of
Morocco, and condemned to work as a slave for ten years.
My master called me Cajus, and when I at last escaped and
reached America, I kept the name in order to be constantly
reminded of what I owed the great, rich, and mighty gentleman at home. I do not mean to tire you by telling you all
the adventures of a man who has no home, and does not
care to have one. I have fought under all flags against tyranny; my body has more scars than any great general has
decorations. But all the wounds are nothing in comparison
with the one great wound, which has poisoned my existence,
and which burns and burns and will burn till he who gave
it shall expire at my feet. But what is that?"
Great commotion had suddenly arisen in the quiet camp.
All were crowding around a patrol which had just returned
from a reconnoissance, bringing back with them apparently
several suspicious persons. "They are spies! Don't stand
upon ceremony-knock them down! " A lachrymose voice
was heard between these outcries: "I only went because
he offered me so much money; let me go, dear, kind gentlemen, let off a poor boy who has a blind mother at home!"
Cajus and Munzer had risen and approached the group.
The moon was shining brightly, and all details were distinctly visible. One of the two companions was, what his
language had indicated, a half-grown boy from the neighborhood; his coarse face was streaming with tears. The other
was a slender, finely-built fellow, in a dark blouse; a yellow
straw-hat, under which an abundance of dark curls became
visible, covered his head, as he turned with great animation
to the two gentlemen.
" Do not press so hard, my good man," said the slenderer
of the two to one of the men who held him still by the wrist;
"you really will hurt me. Good evening, gentlemen, could
you not tell your men to be a little less awkward in their attentions to a couple of harmless travellers."
It was a melodious voice that uttered these words half
jestingly, half angrily. Munzer started back as if he had
been struck by lightning. Could it really be? She here?.
His heart, unable to hold the flood of feelings which the




The House of Hohenstein.         505
tones of this voice had suddenly aroused, beat as if it would
burst.
" I shall soon cure you of your merriment, young man,"
said Cajus, with dark scorn. " I suppose you could not wait
for the time when you were to receive your commission?
Bind that boy there, and knock him down if he opens his
mouth and cries any more. With this fine young gentleman,
we'll make shorter process! "
He drew the short, sharp dagger which he always wore in
his belt. With one leap Munzer stood before him, holding
his arm. "Are you mad, Cajus?" and then taking him
violently aside, he whispered into his ear: " Don't you see
it is a woman?"
"Oh!" said Cajus, "is that it?  Let him go, men! The
doctor knows the young man, and will be security for him."
The slender fellow, who had uttered a low cry of joyous
surprise upon hearing Munzer's voice, no sooner felt his
hands free, than he ran up to him, wound his arms around
him, and whispered in a low, caressing tone: "At last I
have you again! At last! "
Munzer tore himself with vehemence from this embrace.
"Let us end this comedy, madam," he said, "the place
and the time are hardly suitable for a farce! "
Antonia drew back a few steps and looked at Munzer
with sharp, searching eyes. Then she took his hands, and
said: "Bernhard! You will not refuse me an interview
which I have sought at the risk of my life. This little favor
you surely owe a woman whom you have loved?"
Without waiting for an answer she took Munzer by the
arm, and drew him out of the bright moonlight into the dark
shade at the edge of the forest; and then, as if she did not
feel quite safe yet, upon a narrow path which led through this
part of the forest. Munzer yielded; he was afraid of Cajus's
sharp, pitiless eye, and of the curiosity of the men. At the
same time he felt the power of the charm which this woman
practiced with irresistible force, in spite of all his efforts to
withdraw from its magic circle.
They had reached the forest before a word had been
uttered by either.  At their feet the mountains fell off in
green slopes and terraces, one after the other, till they
merged into the plain where the camp-fires of the enemy
22




5o6           The House of Hohenstein.
shone brightly through the darkness.  Thick mists and
clouds drifted slowly along, allowing the moon to come forth
at intervals. The neighing of horses, and low voices calling
to each other unintelligible words, the chirping of insects in
the heather, and now and then the short, hoarse cry of a
night bird-these were the only sounds breaking the general silence. The air was oppressively close; glow-worms
were shining in the grass, or drew- their wide rings around
dark bushes in which not a leaf was stirring.
Antonia had seated herself on the stump of a tree which a
storm had torn up by the roots. Munzer stood by her side,
gazing down into the plain. He was almost stunned, hardly
knowing how he had come here, hardly conscious of her who
was by him. A low sob reminded him of her presence.
He approached Antonia.
"Have pity on me!" said Antonia, sinking upon her
knees and holding up her hands imploringly.
" Have you any pity on me?" asked Munzer. "If this
is not a blind accident merely in your adventurous life, what
brings you here, after you have yourself torn the last tie that
bound us to each other?-here, to me, who ask for nothing
but to be alone?-to me, who desire nothing more ardently
than never again to be reminded of the maddest of dreams
which my poor suffering brain has ever dreamt? "
He beat his forehead and turned away from Antonia, who
still remained in the same position.
" Rise, Antonia! " he said, as the same low sobbing once
more fell upon his ear. "What do you mean by this scene?
Rise! "
" Not until you have told me that you believe me when I
tell you that since you kissed my lips the last time, no man
has ever touched even my hand!"
"I believe you to be too proud to tell a falsehood," said
Munzer, after a short pause.
Antonia started up, seized his hands before he could prevent it, pressed them to her bosom and to her lips. "Thanks,
Bernhard, thanks! a thousand thanks!  That was all I
wanted to hear! Now I can go again. I wanted nothing
else from you. I do not want anything else!"
She let go his hands, took the hat which had fallen upon
the grass, pressed it upon her dark curls, and turned to go.




The House of Hohenstein.         50'
"Antonia!" exclaimed Munzer, "are you mad? Where
are you going?"
" How can I stay when you disown me?"
" I do not disown you. I cannot let you leave me, Antonia!"
With a low cry of delight the passionate woman threw herself upon his bosom and covered his lips with burning kisses.
Then she said: " Now give me your arm, and let us walk up
and down, and let me tell you how I came. to engage in this
mad freak. You see, Bernhard, my pride suffered under
the coldness with which you often treated me, but much more
under the consciousness that you held me as a master holds
his slave. I wanted to try if I could not keep the vow I
had sworn to myself when my husband died, that no other
man should ever be to me more than my toy or my slave. I
threw down the gauntlet to you, when you met one evening
the painter at my house. I swear it, Bernhard, I did it with
beating heart, in the anxious hope you would not take it up.
You did it, nevertheless, and in a manner which left me no
doubt as to your determination to break with me. The
painter thought he must profit by the rupture, and proposed
the plan which we carried out the next day. But he soon
found out his mistake. The fool! As if the shoes which
serve us to walk from one place to another, were not cast
aside as soon as they are no longer of use to us! As if I
would flee from you, and follow a man like him! At the
first railway station I sent him off. I do not know what has
become of him. But I have wandered about, in despair at
having lost you, and in the hope of finding you again. Every
night I hoped I had overcome this childish weakness, and
every morning I awoke from my feverish dreams with the
one certain conviction that I could not live without you. I
had found it unbearable not to be as free as I had been, and
now I could not endure it to miss your mastery over me. I
had no other thought, no other wish, but to be your slave,
to bear your worst temper for the sake of one kindly look
from your proud eyes! Thus I dreamt and longed and
suffered, till I could bear it no longer. One fine morning I
resolved to go in search of you, were it only to die at your
feet. I knew you had joined the revolutionary army-you
had often spoken of the necessity of fanning this spark into




508            The House of Hohenstein.
a bright blaze. A gentleman whom I happened to meet in
Switzerland, where he had sought an asylum even before he
was threatened, confirmed my supposition; he had seen you
and spoken to you frequently. He also mentioned the names
of Wolfgang and Degenfeld, and that you were in the same
corps with them. I left immediately. I reached the watering-place a few miles from here. There I was told I could
not proceed by rail any farther, as the rails were all torn up;
besides, I would have to make my way through both armies.
My resolution was soon formed. I assumed a male costume,'
hired a carriage at great expense, drove to your headquarters, where I pretended to be a student who wished to enlist
in Degenfeld's brigade, and was sent in this direction. But
the driver would not or could not go any farther. I took a
boy, who offered to be my guide, and plunged into these
mountains. In the afternoon we heard firing; then I thought
I must be near your corps; and so I followed the sound of
the firing, to the great horror of the boy, whom all my prayers, threats, and promises could hardly induce to remain with
me. It was a hard journey. We marched straight through
the forest, and often lost our way, coming every now and
then to places which proved utterly impassable. Suddenly,
towards evening, when we hoped we were at our journey's
end, the firing ceased. I had to go on at haphazard, and
good fortune favored me, for it brought me to you, my love!
my darling! And now I do not mean to leave you again —
for surely, Bernhard, you will not refuse to come with me?
They all say the fight is over, and all is lost. I believe it is
so. What more can you do among these sorry people?
What more can be done for a cause which is hopelessly
lost?"
"One can die for it!" replied Munzer.
"I will do whatever you do, Bernhard! I am ready to
die with you, if I cannot live with you. Do not think I have
no strength or courage; I am very strong; I can fire a rifle
as well as another; I can manage a wild horse like the best
of horsemen. I will fight by your side; you shall be satisfied with your comrade; you shall have no cause to blush
for him."
Thus spoke the passionate woman, caressing and cajoling
her listener. Munzer's heart was torn by contending feel



The House of Hohenstein.         509
ings. A few hours ago he thought he had wound up his
accounts with the world, and now she must come and meet
him, with the intoxicating music of her voice, with her ravishing beauty which fascinated his eyes, with her glorious
mind that inflamed his imagination, and her rapturous heart
beating in harmony with his own, till the two flames mingled with each other, and, united, rose to the heavens in
fiery embrace! He told her all that stirred up his soul to
its uttermost depths; he thrust her from him, as she wound
herself trembling around him, and then again he seized her
fiercely and covered with his kisses her lips, her eyes, and
her beautiful hair, damp with the night-dew, amid the most
tender vows of love.
Thus lost in one another, they had not perceived that a
thunder-storm had come up, after announcing itself for some
time by low mutterings and grumblings in the heavens. A
sudden, blinding flash of lightning was instantaneously followed by a tremendous clap of thunder, which echoed far
into the mountains and reminded them of their danger.
Munzer thought he knew the direction in which the camp
lay, but the farther they went into the wood, the more they
became convinced that they had chosen the wrong path.
They did not ascend the mountain as they ought to have
done, and all of a sudden the path led down a steep slope.
Perhaps they had passed the camp and were now coming to
it from another direction, for the forest became lighter and
lighter. But they soon found out their mistake, for they
reached the edge of the wood. Nothing was to be seen.
The darkness was intense; black night swallowed up every
detail; the moon was completely, hid behind the stormclouds, and big warm drops were beginning to fall.
"It is all in vain," said Antonia. "We must wait here
till morning."
"But what is to become of you, poor child?"
"Am I not with you?"
A rock, projecting far out, formed a kind of open cave,
which shepherds and huntsmen seemed to have used more
than once for a night's shelter, for the floor was abundantly
covered with dry, loose moss. Munzer gathered as much as
he could and made a couch for Antonia.
He had taken the rifle from his shoulder. Antonia sat




510            The House of Hohenstein.
down beside him; he held her in his arms and leaned her
head against his bosom. Soon her regular breathing made
him aware that she had fallen asleep, exhausted by the unusual fatigue of the day. He let her softly glide down upon
the moss, and rested his head against the rocky wall of the
grotto.
When he awoke, the gray morning was breaking through
the misty atmosphere. He rose gently and stared with
sombre eyes at Antonia. An evil dream seemed to oppress
the sleeper. Her dark brows contracted as with pain, her
cheeks were burning, but her hands were cold, and chills
seemed to convulse her body. Munzer bent over her.
"Wake up, Antonia!"
She opened her large eyes and looked confused around
her.
" Ah! It is you!" she said with a deep sigh. "God be
thanked I That was an ugly dream! The colonel was holding me in his arms; I could not cry nor move, and his icy
breath was chilling my heart, and his black eyes were
sending out fiery arrows, which pierced my brain. God be
thanked it was but a dream!"
Suddenly she laughed aloud. "Here I have been sleeping?" she cried. "In a cavern? What a splendid apartment! Ah! But I slept so sweetly, so sweetly! What
a pity that ugly dream troubled me at last! "
She threw herself on Munzer's bosom and kissed him.
Munzer gently put her from him. "We must go, Antonia!
There is no time to lose! "
"Come!" said Antonia.
They left the grotto and looked around. They could not
see much as yet. A dense fog floated in waving masses
over the meadows, now allowing green islands to rise from
the gray sea, and then swallowing them up again. The forest from which thev had come was lost to sight. Munzer
thought it was on one side, Antonia on the other; they went
first in this direction, then in that, and still the pine-trees
which they sought would not show themselves. At last
they saw them at some distance; but a brook, which had
changed the meadow into a swamp, prevented the wanderers
from approaching in a straight line. They turned aside,
and instantly the wood was lost again in the mist.




The House of Hohenstein.         5" 
All of a sudden they found themselves near the stump
on which they had been sitting last night. To the left of it,
about a hundred yards farther on the edge of the wood, the
little path led to the camp of the corps.
"All is right now," said Munzer. "But it was high time.
What is that? "
A peculiar noise of bushes being trod down, and then
again a low sound as of many men marching with equal step
on a soft ground, and between, every now and then, a word
of command-thus it came up the hill.
They stood still and listened breathless into the mist.
" The enemy! " whispered Munzer, taking down his rifle.
" What are you going to do? "
" Give a warning before it is too.late! "
He fired; almost at the same instant several shots fell,
which had been fired at haphazard by the approaching
troops, and Munzer fell at Antonia's feet.
With a wild cry she sank down by his side and raised his
bleeding head. She thought he had been killed, but she
soon perceived that the ball had only glanced along the temple, and that all hope was not lost. She pressed he; handkerchief on the gaping wound; she tore her silk fichu from
her neck and bound it around his head. In vain! The
blood but ran all the faster over her trembling hands. She
loosened her belt, tore off her blouse, and wrapped it around
him; she sat down on the grass and placed the dear head
on her lap; she saw nothing but the flowing blood, nothing
but the fading face. What did it matter to her that shots
were fired on the right and on the left, that gray forms
slipped by her on all sides, that soon the firing became more
serious, large masses being engaged, and that at last the
mist rose, and so deprived her of the.only protection which
had concealed her until now, as by a miracle, from the eyes
of the attacking party.
One company after another came up, sharp-shooters on
the flanks, at the beat of the drum, charging the edge of
the wood, which it seemed was held by the revolutionary
troops, and obstinately defended. Again and again the
bugles gave the signal for retreat. At last, however, they
had apparently succeeded in gaining a hold on the forest;
for the trees now resounded with the cheers of the soldiers




512            The House -of Hohenstein.
and the crack of the rifles. A new battalion came up to
the support of the troops who were already engaged in the
forest.  The sharp-shooters deploying in line, approached
the spot where Antonia was sitting motionless, with her terrible burden.
" There are some more dogs of republicans!" cried one,
aiming at Antonia.
" Save your cartridge, my man! " said an officer, knocking
up the barrel of the gun with his sword.
Lieutenant Todwitz had seen that the man who was lying
on the ground, with his head in the lap of the handsome
young fellow, was either dead or grievously wounded; the
sight had excited his pity. He rushed up to the group. Antonia looked at him, with fixed, imploring eyes. She knew
the young officer well; she had danced with him often
enough in the city.
"Save him, Baron Todwitz! " she cried, forgetting everything else.
The officer was petrified. "Was this Antonia?-The
brilliant Antonia Hohenstein?-In this costume?-In such
a position? "
Nevertheless, he was a good fellow, and not so hardened
against the impulse of doing a heroic thing, that he was not
touched by what he saw.
" I will do what I can," he said; " but I fear that will be
little enough."
A superior officer came galloping up. From a distance already he cried, with a voice hoarse with fury:
" Lieutenant Todwitz! why in three devils' name do you
not advance into the wood?"
Antonia uttered a cry when she heard this voice.
" For God's sake, Todwitz," she besought him, "do not
let me fall into his hands! Rather kill me and him!"
Todwitz stood fearfully embarrassed, but Colonel Hohenstein was already near him. He checked his foam-covered
horse: "Why the devil, lieutenant  "
His eye fell upon Antonia, who stared at him with a glance
of despair and deadly hatred. Todwitz's embarrassed air
told him all the rest. He broke out into a hoarse laugh.
"Well, that is divine,'pon honor!" he cried. "A sister
of charity of the latest fashion! "




The House of Hohenstein.         513
*Ie alighted from his horse, threw the bridle to an orderly,
and approached Antonia.
" Be reasonable, Antonia," he said in a low tone. "Don't
you see he is bleeding to death. What will that help you?
Let our surgeon take care of him, and you will at least preserve his life."
Antonia was about to reply, but the fearful excitement had
exhausted her strength; she broke down, fainting, at the
very moment when a couple of soldiers, at the colonel's command, took the wounded man from her arms.
The colonel looked down, gnawing his lips. Then he
raised his head and said in a rough tone of command.:
" Have both of them carried to the rear, lieutenant! I
hold you responsible for them! " Then he added, somewhat
more civilly: "And, Todwitz, manage it so that the thing
does not become too public! You know how to get along
with women!"
— o —
CHAPTER XVIII.
IT was owing to Munzer's presence of mind alone that
the remaining portion of Degenfeld's brigade, and in
fact the whole revolutionary army, was not more seriously
defeated on that fatal day. The surprise intended by the
commanders of the government troops had failed. Of
course, the advantage was not very great; still, the final decision was at least postponed for some time. It appeared
soon that not only a detachment, but the whole of the enemy's left wing, had been engaged; while a powerful cannonade,
which soon after began in the direction of the fortress, indicated that the centre also and the right wing had gone into
action.
Degenfeld and Wolfgang had hurried to the support of
the outposts as soon as the first shots had fallen, taking the
whole battalion at double quick down to the edge of the
wood. They had thrown themselves with the bayonet upon
the regular troops and driven them back; then they had held
2I*




514            The House of Hohenstein.
the wood for some time against most furious attacks, till at last
they had been outflanked by the superior numbers of the
enemy, and compelled to fall back. It was only with great
difficulty they succeeded in escaping from the forest; many
a brave companion fell on the slippery, mossy ground, never
to rise again; and when they had crossed the little river near
the village, and attempted to take a new position in order to
give their exhausted men a little time to rest, their numbers
were sadly reduced. Not two-thirds of all the gallant young
men who had answered this morning so cheerfully the call
of their leaders, were now to be found, and many of these
were more or less seriously wounded. And now only the
friends noticed to their dismay that Munzer, whom they had
thought in the ranks of Cajus's company, was not among those
who were safe. They went in search of Cajus, who had
been seen a short while before going to the open space behind the first houses of the village, where Balthasar was
helping the surgeon to attend to the wounded. They found
him seated on the ground. Balthasar was kneeling before
him, and just then cutting the blouse from his broad chest
and the muscular arm. To their first question whether he
was seriously wounded, he replied: "No, but I cannot use
my left arm." Upon their second question after Munzer,
his face grew darker, and he replied savagely: " I thought
he was with you! Well, my good friend, what is it?
Pshaw! Don't you see the ball is just under the skin.
Let me see! Cut the thing out and tie a piece of linen
around it firmly-that's it! Now you had better go and look
after the others. I must rest a few minutes!"
He drew his hat close down upon his brow, closed his
eyes, and leaned his shoulder against the wall.
Degenfeld and Wolfgang saw that the stoic, reserved as
he was, did not wish to be questioned any further, and left
him alone. They turned to some of Cajus's men; they happened all to have been on outpost duty when Munzer left
the guard with Antonia. They could give no information.
The friends did not know what to think of Munzer. Either
he had taken his own life, or he had fallen at the very beginning of the skirmish. Wolfgang feared suicide; Degenfeld thought the latter supposition more likely.
" Leave me this consolation," he said. " I should be sorry




The House of Hohenstein.         515
to see the image of a man who has been dear to me, marred
by such an act. Let us not judge, lest we be judged! Who
knows how soon we may be dependent ourselves on the
kindly recollections of our friends."
He sighed deeply. Wolfgang tried to cheer the melancholy man, for whom he felt deep reverence. Degenfeld
shook his head, sadly smiling.
" Ever since this campaign began," he said, "I have been
pursued by those words of the poet, which filled the head
of Scipio as he was sitting on the ruins of Carthage: The
day will come!-The day has come. Our army is nothing
more than a mass of fugitives; before the sun sets it will be
scattered to the four winds. The revolution is at an end;
the reaction can rejoice in its orgies with impunity. No 
Not with impunity. For this is not the end of it; at best it
can only be the beginning of the end. A people that has
been treated so, can never be reconciled to its rulers. It may
postpone the day of revenge for a long time, but the day will
nevertheless come-a fearful day! I am glad I shall not
see it; it is for you, my young friend, younger, stronger, and
bolder as you are. Your only care then will be to keep the
revenge of the people from being too bloody. And as we
are speaking of death, Wolfgang-ifI should fall, for that
is possible, at least-do not forget what I told you of my
brother. I have written to him that you will in all probability come to him; take him my last greeting, and tell him
I should willingly have spared him this grief, but the twinstars that rose at our birth, have pointed out to us different
ways, and my way came to an end here. Will you think of
it?"
Wolfgang pressed his friend's hand in speechless emotion.
Degenfeld rewarded him with a cheerful smile, and said:
" My heart is light, like that of a man who has put his
house in order. Let us do our duty cheerfully to the end.
To arms, my men!"
Degenfeld's sharp eyes had seen correctly. The army of
the rebels was, on this wing at least, nothing but a mass of
debris. In wild disorder, which- could hardly be called a retreat, ever new crowds of horsemen, of infantry, and of cannons, came crowding across the bridge and into the village.
In vain did the leaders on this side of the river endeavor to




5 6            The House of Hohenstein.
form them in line. The cry raised by a few cowards, "We
are outflanked!-They attack us in the rear! " had created
a panic among the men, which prevented any important
order from being properly executed, and which resulted in
absolute despair, when the enemy unmasked several batteries on the opposite heights, which commanded the position,
and by a few well-aimed shots spread death and destruction
among the crowds rushing towards the bridge. All that
could be done under such circumstances was to keep the
enemy as long as possible from crossing the river, so as to
give more time to those who were in the act of coming over,
and to organize the retreat in a more orderly manner. The
fire of the attacking party was vigorously returned from the
windows of the houses in the village, but higher up the river
the defence became every moment visibly weaker; already
some detachments of regular troops were seen attempting to
ford the little river at some shallow places under the shelter
of their batteries.  Degenfeld saw the danger instantly.
" Make haste, Wolfgang! " he called out to his friend; "take
half of our men and gather on the way whatever you find;
I will try to hold my own here for a while! "
Wolfgang would have preferred remaining near Degenfeld,
and fighting the battle by his side to the end, although the
result was no longer doubtful. But the sense of duty was
stronger than the inclination of his heart. He pressed Degenfeld's hand with an earnest, eloquent look. Degenfeld turned
away to conceal his emotion. But when the young man was
already at a distance of a few yards, he suddenly hurried
after him, embraced him, and said: "We shall not meet
again. Farewell, Wolfgang! "
With this painful cry still in his ears, Wolfgang hastened,
at the head of his command, to the point in danger. As he
passed the house behind which the wounded were lying, he
saw Balthasar still indefatigably at work. He wanted to take
his faithful companion with him, but Balthasar was unwilling
to leave his post. "Here is my place, my dear sir," he
said. " No one shall say that Balthasar left his post. Take
me with you when you return."
"When I return! " murmured Wolfgang, hurrying on.
His soul was filled with sad anticipations. All he saw
around him was too well calculated to rob the most resolute




The House of Hohenstein.         517
man of his composure. Fear, confusion, excessive despondency everywhere.  Battalions which had not yet been
under fire, rushed by In disorder; a battery which would
have been of immense value in its proper place, drove right
into the crowd of fugitives and increased their dismay.
"All is lost! We are surrounded! We shall be cut off!"
These cries of treason and cowardice were flying all about,
and carried ruin with incredible swiftness to every part of
the line. One of the higher officers, whom Wolfgang found
waiting on his horse surrounded by his staff, and whom he
asked for reinforcements, replied, shrugging his shoulders:
" You may have my whole division if you can lead the men
into fire."
"We can only rely upon ourselves, captain," said faithful
Ruchel, who had remained by Wolfgang's side.
"So it seems," replied the latter. "I have not even seen
Cajus anywhere."
" He must have been left on the other side," said Ruchel.
" I saw him one of the last, leaning on his rifle, and looking
as grim as-Great heavens! there they are coming in
crowds across the river, and our blockheads hardly fire at
all."
" March! March!" commanded Wolfgang.
It was high time that the littte corps should take position
there. They found men enough in the orchards and between the willows along the river, but they had no ammunition and no leaders. Wolfgang formed his men in a column,
and threw himself, after a sharp, quick fire, with the bayonet
upon the enemy, whose ranks were seriously disorganized
by the crossing. What he had hardly thought possible came
to pass.  The regulars gave way under the unexpected
shock. The river bank was once more in the hands of the
insurgents, and a well-aimed fire which Wolfgang kept up
on the whole line, and especially near the bridge, had at
least this effect, that the attack of the government troops
was checked for a time.
But at other points fate had been all the more adverse to
the republican troops. Wolfgang's departure with half of
Degenfeld's brigade had reduced the numbers more than
had been foreseen This weakening of the defence, and the
disgraceful flight of the battery, gave the enemy an advan



518            The House of Hohenstein.
tage by which they profited instantly. They succeeded at
the same time in setting the village on fire, and in thus
depriving the insurgents of their best shelter.
Degenfeld had so far directed the measures for the defence with the greatest coolness, and it was due solely to his
heroic example that the men were still remaining in a position which could evidently be held only by men who were
willing to risk their own lives in order to save the lives of
others who were less brave. For so it was. If the position
was lost before the republicans could accomplish their retreat into the mountains, where they would find at least
comparative safety, fearful carnage would be the consequence, and the whole wing would probably be cut down!
The enemy was only prevented from crossing by the incessant, well-aimed firing of sharp-shooters posted on both sides
of the bridges, while the village itself was in flames, and
almost entirely deserted. Both parties, though on opposite
sides of the river, knew this perfectly well; the conflict
became more bitter, although it could not fail to be continued for some time yet, as the great distance at which they
fought made up for the inferior arms of the insurgents, and
the shelter they found behind trees and walls for the immense numerical superiority of the enemy.
Degenfeld was standing on a hillock, from which he
directed the defence. A single tree stood on the eminence,
affording scanty protection, but the major did not think of
that. He only removed the small telescope through which
he watched the manceuvres of the enemy, in order to examine with his unaided eyes the position of his own men, or to
call out to them with his calm, clear voice, some word of encouragement or some order, which was heard far and near
with perfect distinctness.  He knew that as long as he
stood in this prominent place, the brave men whom he had
commanded now for so many weeks would not think of
giving way, and this made his carriage appear so calm, and
his voice so full and clear. Many a half-despairing eye
looked up at the noble, erect figure, as the morning breeze
was playing with his brown hair, and drew new courage from
this image of courage, which appeared unassailable in its
calm serenity.
And yet in his heart there was little peace and calmness.




The House of Hohenstein.         519
In the few minutes during which the balls were whistling
around him like hail, or plunged into the tree and tore up
the ground at his feet. his whole life passed before his mind's
eye in a series of clear and distinct pictures. The hopes and
aspirations of his youth; his ardent love, rejected and yet
unforgotten; his lonely, pleasant studies; the sweet habit of
a privileged position; agreeable and friendly relations with
others, which became less harmonious and less pleasing as he
came out more boldly with the result of his studies; his newlywon convictions; then came the evil days when the rupture
must be made public, and the numberless crowd of adversaries fell upon him like a fierce pack of hounds, especially the
man who had so long persecuted him with bitter enmity, and
whom fate to-day placed in open battle against him. It was
the ninety-ninth regiment which was most bent upon forcing
the position. He saw the battalion which he had so long
commanded, manceuvre against him, and partly at least execute the very movements which he had been the instrument
of introducing into the army. He heard the conical bullets
whistle around him, in the invention of which he had taken
a large part. A strange sensation at this moment overcame
the unfortunate man. He seemed to have a double existence, to be on this side and on the other at the same time,
to fight with the regulars against the rebels, and with the
rebels against the regulars. He was impatient that the latter
did not make better use of their superiority in arms and
numbers; he murmured the orders that ought to be given
in order to defeat at once this rebellious rabble; and the
next moment he saw his boys with their blackened faces, and
was filled with admiration for their heroic courage. His
heart was divided; but one thing remained clear to himthat he would not fall alive into the hands of the enemy. He
drew the pistol half out of his belt-but the moment had not
come yet. He saw the enemy bring up a second battalion
to the front, and a third and a fourth behind that as a reserve,
the whole forming a column of attack with the front towards
the bridge. There was no doubt now; they were going to
force the passage across the river. He hastened down from
his eminence to carry all available troops to the threatened
point. At that moment a ball wounded him in his right
arm. He took the sword in his left and cried: "Here! To




520           The House of Hohenstein.
me!" when a second ball shatters his left knee, and he fell
stunned, with his face forward. Like lightning the sad news
flew through the whole line that the major had been killed.
" All is lost! Everybody for himself! " In vain did Cajus
and some others try to stop the fugitives; they threw aside
guns and cartridge-boxes and hastened away from the fire
at the very moment when the battalions of the enemy debouched upon the bridge, occupying this key to the whole
position, and at the same time pushing their masses boldly
across, as the other side was scarcely any longer defended.
A few men, standing near Degenfeld when he fell, had
lifted him up and carried him out of the fire to one of the
flying hospitals. They might have saved themselves the
trouble. There was not a single surgeon there; the few
mortally wounded-for all the others had tried to escapewere attended to by Balthasar, who went from one to the
other, wetting the parched lips with water which he drew
from the village well near by.
In Balthasar's arms Degenfeld- recovered his consciousness.
"How goes the battle?"
"I believe all is lost" replied the faithful Samaritan.
"They are fleeing in all directions."
"Then you ought to escape, too, my friend. I need no
one to help me die."
Platoon fire at a little distance and wild cheers proved the
close approach of the enemy.
"Flee, Balthasar!" said Degenfeld, drawing his pistol.
You cannot afford a moment longer."
" I shall not leave you and these unfortunate men," replied
Balthasar, gently but firmly.
The regulars broke forth from between the houses. Lieutenant Hinkel, a beardless youth of nineteen, saw Degenfeld
lying there, and came rushing up to him with drawn sword,
crying at the same time with his squeaking voice: " Surrender, major!"
Degenfeld raised himself on his sound arm; a contemptuous smile played around his lips; he placed the mouth of
his pistol to his temple and drew the trigger. His body
sank slowly back; before the disfigured head touched the
ground, his heroic bosom had drawn its last breath.




The House of Hohenstein.         521
His fading eye had escaped seeing his mortal enemy, who
came galloping up from the burning village at the head of a
group of officers.
Hinkel approached him to report that "Major Degenfeld-  "
"Dead or alive?"
"Dead, colonel!"
" Go to the devil!" exclaimed the colonel, furiously. "We
wanted to catch the dog alive. You have spoilt all the fun.
Where is he?"
Hinkel pointed with his sword at the deceased. The
colonel spurred his reluctant horse close up to the dead man,
and looked from his height down upon the pale, calm face.
The pistol, which the stiffened hand was still holding, and
the drops of black blood which were slowly trickling from
the wound in the temple, showed that Degenfeld had known
but too well what his enemies wished.
The colonel did not seem able to tear himself from the
fearful sight; he murmured unintelligible words through his
firmly-closed teeth. He was a good hater, but he hated no
one as he had hated this man. At last wild cries, that arose
quite near him, tore him from the strange hallucination.
Balthasar had been horrified by Degenfeld's end, but stillmore when he saw the murderous soldiers fall like madmen
upon the wounded and pierce the dying men with their bayonets. He had tried to protect the one near whom he was
standing, with his own body; they had rudely and scornfully
thrown him aside, and now half a dozen of them dragged
him up amid fearful curses and pitiless blows with their
muskets.
" Bring the dog here!" cried the colonel. "He seems to
be a kind of regimental clerk or some such thing. What is
that thick pocket-book in your absurd dress-coat there?"
It was a pocket-book which Cajus had lost when Balthasar
had bandaged his wounded arm. The colonel, to whom it
had been handed, looked into it.
"Ah!" he said; "here we have one of the ringleaders!
That is the famous Cajus, gentlemen; would you have imagined that the scoundrel looked so much like a tailor? The
fellow is an intimate friend of my nephew's. What do you
know of the boy? Where is he?"




522            The House of Hohenstein.
"My name is not Cajus," said Balthasar; "nor do I know
where my dear young master may be just now; and if I
knew it, I would not tell it."
" Ah! Not tell it? And why not?" asked the colonel,
with rude scorn.
" Because you are like the howling wolves," replied Balthasar; and his eyes, usually so mild and gentle, burnt with
holy indignation; "because you stain the earth with the
blood of men who are your betters, and because every good
man must turn from you with horror."
" Well, gentlemen, how do you like that?" said the colonel,
turning in his saddle and smiling darkly; "but we will cure
that pale scoundrel of his preaching. Away with him! Put
him against the wall and stop his mouth with a few blue
pills! "
The soldiers pushed Balthasar towards the house, the
straw roof of which was blazing in bright flames, and placed
him with his back to the wall. He was quite pale, but he
looked with firm eyes, not winking for an instant, at his executioners. "I will stand still," he said, "but don't let me
suffer much longer, and kill me at once! "
They drew back a few yards and looked at the colonel.
"Take aim! " said the colonel, who seemed to enjoy
commanding the execution himself. " Fire! "
The rifles cracked; Balthasar's mutilated body fell forward. The flames were blazing out of the low window, and
the sparks flew into the faces of the murderers.
"Make haste and get yourselves away," the colonel
shouted at the soldiers. "Let us go, gentlemen, or we shall
be burnt alive here!"
He spurred his horse, and galloped off with his suite.
Behind him the flames swept over the burning village, a
funeral pile for many whose dead bodies lay on the spot
which they had so long and so bravely defended for the
sake of what was to them the'righteous cause.
With the taking of the village by the regular troops the
line of the insurgents was completely broken. The question
for them was now only to reach the hills fighting, or to die
in the attempt. Wolfgang, who had very well seen the dangerous position of his friends on the other side of the village,




The House of Hohenstein.         523
was in despair; but he could do nothing for them; he could
not spare a man; and he owed his own life to the brave fellows who had stood so long in the most terrific fire for his
sake, and whose only chances of safety depended upon him.
He therefore gave the order to retreat with a heavy heart.
Amid incessant firing, to keep the pursuing enemy at some
distance, he reached the woods, which here fortunately came
down the whole slope of the hill, and close to the village.
As he turned a last glance down into the valley, he saw the
regulars everywhere holding the position which he and his
friends had occupied but an hour ago; he saw black clouds
of smoke with red tongues of fire flashing through the darkness, rolling slowly over the place where he had left those that
were dearest to him, and he knew that this was the day
which Degenfeld's prophetic soul had foretold long ago.
-0 —
CHAPTER XIX. -
VAE VICTIS! Terrible word, as old as the world and
disgraceful to mankind. Art thou never to change
thy fearful meaning? Art thou ever to raise thy gorgon-head anew, whenever a bold champion falls down exhausted? Must the soft voice of pity, which teaches us to
respect the unfortunate, ever be weaker than the hoarse
croaking of the thirst for revenge? Will the conqueror never
learn to bow before sacred Nemesis, which unmercifully punishes every self-elation? and must pride always come before
a fall? Is it not bad enough to be conquered?-to see the
flag for which we have fought dragged through the dust?to live by the mercy of the conqueror? Is the wound not
painful enough, that it must be poisoned in addition?-that
groaning wives and pitiful children must also be made to
feel the heavy hand that overthrew the father and the husband? Art thou never to change thy fearful meaning, terrible word?
Not yet a while.  Thou art still lording it, like an evil
demon, on the public square of every conquered town!




524            The House of Hohenstein.
Thou art still worshipped by all who have the power in their
hand, and all the more the greater their power is and the less
they have to fear from the vanquished. Thou art still apt
to throw the executioner's axe into the scales of death, whenever thou seest the side of mercy outweigh justice. Thou
still thrustest the prisoner thou hast made in open, honest
fight, into thy foul dungeons upon rotting straw; or thou
takest him out, when typhus does not do the work quickly
enough, ram the ball down the barrel! fire! a flash! a
crack-vae victis!
Woe to the conquered! were the words the beautiful woman heard ringing in her ears and in her heart, who was sitting a few weeks after the catastrophe at the window of a
room in a small hotel of the conquered fortress. She was
staring down into the street, where half-drunken soldiers
practised their rude gallantry on some peasant women on
their way home from market. But she saw and heard nothing; for the one thought which by night and day now occupied her mind, excluded all things else: how could she save
her beloved from imprisonment-or if that could not be done,
at least from the penalty of death. What efforts she had
made merely to gain access to him! How she, the proud
lady, had humbled herself! How she had waited, amid contemptuously smiling officers, in the ante-chamber of generals,
to hear, after a long trial of her patience, only that they
could do nothing for her! What difficulties she had overcome to obtain an audience from the king, who raised the
kneeling woman graciously enough, but only to tell her that
he could not interfere with the courts, and that justice must
have its course! And now the bitterest thought of all, that
she herself must needs have brought this sad fate upon her
beloved! That without her appearance in the camp, Munzer
would hardly have gone so far from his friends, and would
certainly not have fallen alive into the hands of his enemies.
Why had she not rather let him bleed to death? Why had
she in false sympathy handed over one victim more to the
court-martial which held its daily sessions under its president, Colonel Hohenstein, and daily published its bloody
sentences?
To-morrow he was to appear before the court. What the
result would be could not be doubtful, after all that had been




The House of Hohenstein.         525
done. A few of the unfortunate men who had been captured
on the battle-field, had already been shot on the glacis of the
fortress. They had all died bravely. Not one had trembled;
not one had thought his life worth asking for. Would Munzer ask for mercy? Would he receive it if he should ask for
it? No!-his fate was decided, his sentence pronounced, his
death certain, unless a miracle should save him.
Antonia started up from her seat at the window and
walked up and down the room wringing her hand. She was
so completely lost in her grief, that she did not hear the
knocking at the door till it had been several times repeated,
and now became very loud. She thought it was the daughter of the house, who had shown much friendly sympathy
for the poor, strange lady, and said, therefore, " Come in!"
without turning to look at the door.
" Pardon me, my fair sister-in-law  "
Antonia started up with a cry. It was he! He dared to
appear before her! He!
She raised her arm, pale and trembling with fear and indignation, and pointed at the door.
" Still so cruel, fair sister-in-law?" said the colonel, in
whose dark, immovable face only the searching black eyes
seemed to live; "why, I had indeed flattered myself with
the hope you would receive me more kindly to-day. But as
you like it -   "
He made a gesture as if he were going away. Antonia
let her arm sink down.
" You are welcome! " she said, almost breathless.
The colonel smiled.
"Ah, now! " he said. "Well, if I am really welcome, you
will permit me to lay aside my helmet and sword, and then
we can chat more comfortably like good old friends, which
we are, after all."
He had put his helmet on a table, and his sword in a corner; then he took a seat on the sofa, inviting Antonia, with
a gesture that smacked as much of command as of courtesy,
to take a seat by him.
He smiled again when Antonia hesitatingly obeyed him;
he was tickled by the consciousness that he was master of
the situation.
"I should have called on you long since, dear Antonia,"




526            The House of Hohenstein.
he said, pulling off his gloves; " but you must confess that
the cruelty with which you formerly rejected the adoration
which I offered to your beauty and your brilliant talents-I
only remind you of the scene when I met, on a certain evening, my successful rival for the first time at your housethat this cruelty imposes upon me, as a duty required by
honor, the very greatest caution."
"And what brings you here to-day?" asked Antonia, fixing her eyes rigidly on the ground.
"I have observed your efforts in Munzer's behalf, as you
may imagine, with painful interest," continued the colonel,
as if he had not heard her question. "Painful, I say, partly
because I foresaw how fruitless they must needs be, and
partly because I found it impossible to offer you my services,
much as I should have liked to do so. But you know yourself that this was out of the question, considering the position in which I stand to you, and in my official relations to
the cause which found a most ardent adherent in so beautiful a lady."
" And what brings you here to-day? " repeated Antonia.
"Listen to me, fair lady, a few moments, I pray.  Perhaps you are not aware that I have already been actively at
work in your interest. Without my mediation, the strange
situation in which you were found by my men, might have
had very disagreeable consequences for you. It is due to
me alone that you have been permitted to stay here without
molestation. You must admit that my proceedings have
been passablement generous, in consideration of your feelings
for me, which you have so consistently made known to the
world. And I should like so much to do still more for you!
It is very painful to me, I assure you, that I must needs
preside over the court which is to-morrow to decide on
Munzer's fate; and worse than that-that I am by accident
judge and accuser in the same person.  You see this
pocket-book? Would you believe it, that this dirty thing
holds in it Munzer's life or death?"
Antonia cast a quick glance at the pocket-book which the
colonel held in his hand.  She shuddered. The colonel
smiled.
" I found this pocket-book on the battle-field. It belonged
to a man who called himself Cajus, one of the leaders of the




The House of Hohenstein.          527
republican movement and a special friend of Munzer. You
will, therefore, no doubt know his name; perhaps you enjoy
the honor of a personal acquaintance. I am sorry to have
to tell you that my men were rash enough to anticipate the
court-inartial, and to shoot the man on the spot. However,
the loss can be borne, as the papers in this pocket-book, and
especially a number of letters in Munzer's handwriting, furnish ample evidence. The letters are only short, mere notes
if you choose; but as the only written evidence which, as far
as I know, exists of Munzer's treasonable transactions, they
are of very special importance."
The colonel put the book back again in his pocket, buttoned his uniform slowly, and said:
" It appears that Munzer did not occupy a very prominent
position in the rebel army; nor has he, as far as I know,
ever been connected with our army.  If he had a friend
among the judges who should present these facts in the
most favorable light, and if these notes of which I spoke,
and which have reference to his activity in organizing the
rebellion before hostilities broke out, were not to appear at
all in court, I should think a mild sentence, or perhaps even
an acquittal, might not be impossible."
The colonel rose.
"And what is the price which this-friend demands?"
asked Antonia in a low voice.
The colonel sat down again.
"Well, you put the question in a desperately practical
form," he said, with his usual hoarse laugh; "perhaps because you are yourself best able to answer it. In war, sweet
Antonia, all is fair; we are in the midst of war, and the
advantage is undoubtedly on my side. A lady so eminently
practical as you are will surely not blame me if I desire to
profit by my advantage."
Antonia shuddered all over.
"Do not misunderstand me!" continued the colonel.
"I am no love-sick swain. I want all or nothing, and I
want it before to-morrow; for if your lover is free to-morrow,
or has the assurance of being free shortly, you might forget
your gratitude. You may decide for yourself! "
He rose again.
"I have decided!" replied Antonia. "He would de



528            The House of Hohenstein.
spise a woman who should sacrifice her honor to save his
life. And if he did not, I could make no such vague promises. I would rather drown my disgrace in the nearest
pond. You see: I have decided! "
"As you like it," replied the colonel, coldly, putting on
his sword and seizing his helmet; "but perhaps you may
reconsider. A note from you, handed to me before nine
o'clock to-night at my rooms, will reach me without fail. I
shall provide for that. Till then, farewell, fair Antonia! and
-reconsider!"
He made an ironical bow and went, after having cast
from the door one of his dark, searching looks at Antonia,
who was still sitting motionless on the sofa, pressing her
hands upon her temples.
But he had no sooner closed the door, than she started up
and began to walk up and down the room, wringing her
hands and moaning as if in agony. All the wild passions
which she had made such an effort to restrain, broke loose
now like a swollen mountain torrent.  Her cheeks were
burning; her eyes flashed with indignation-; she murmured
wild curses, and then she threw herself again on the sofa,
and groaned and sobbed amid floods of tears: "Oh, my
God, my God! What must I do! what must I do?"
A pretty young girl looked in and said:
"Ah! Pardon me, baroness, but there is a lady-outside
who wants very much to see you."
"What is her name?"
"She would not tell me; but I think she also must have
some relative among the prisoners; she looks so very sad."
" Show her in! " said Antonia, rising quickly and wiping
the tears from her eyes and her cheeks.
The strange lady remained motionless when the girl had
closed the door behind her, and drew back her veil. Antonia
had never seen Clara; but one glance at the pale face, torn
with anguish, told her who was standing before her. She
stepped up to Clara quickly, and said, seizing her hands:
"You are-his wife!"
Clara's only answer were two tears, which rose in her eyes'
and slowly coursed down her pale cheeks. Antonia's hands
trembled as she untied Clara's bonnet with busy almost
humble kindness, took off her shawl, and led her to the sofa.




The House of Hohenstein.         529
" Since when are you here?'
" Since yesterday."
"And have you seen him?"
"They will not let me see him; to-morrow-perhaps;
but I rather think they only said so to get rid of me. Can
you do nothing, nothing for me?"
And Clara looked anxiously at Antonia.
"Poor, poor woman!" murmured Antonia. She could
not take her eyes from Clara's face; she had thought Munzer's wife would be so different! Had he really had no eyes
for the goodness and gentleness that spoke from these pure,
innocent features? Had he really had no ear for the melody of this soft voice? Had he ever been able to take this
small white hand and drop it unfeelingly?
" Poor, poor woman! " she said again, lost in the torrent
of thoughts which rushed upon her at once.
" I ask for nothing else. I only want to see him once
more," Clara continued. " For his sake, not for my sake;
for I know that although he does not love me as he loves you,
his heart is still heavy when he thinks of me. I only want
to tell him that I have forgiven him long ago, if I ever had
anything to forgive, and that, if he must die, he may die in
peace as far as I am concerned."
Deep, fierce grief lay on those pale lips, and still her
voice sounded soft and firm.
"You look frightened at me," she said. " Have you any
hope that he may be saved? I have none. I know he will
not deny anything, nor recall anything. On the contrary,
if they allow him to speak, he will use all the skill he possesses to give once more expression to his convictions. They
will condemn him; he will die for the cause for which he
has lived; but I want to see him, that he may not move a
muscle, that his executioners may not see a trace of weakness in his eyes, that he may face death gloriously like a
hero! He cannot die in peace without me. Do not think
me presumptuous if I venture to say so-even before
you!"
"For God's sake do not speak thus," cried Antonia.
" You do not know how every word of yours tears my heart.
Oh, my God! my God! What have I done? "
She threw herself at Clara's feet and covered her hands
23




530            The House of Hohenstein.
with tears and with kisses. Clara tried to calm the impassioned woman.
"No! no!" sobbed Antonia.    "Let me kneel before
you; let me worship you as we pray to a saint. Oh! how
fearfully I have sinned against you!  But I will make
amends for the wrong I have done you. I will I I swear it
to you! "
She raised herself and walked a few times up and down
the room with rapid strides; then she came back again to
Clara, sat down by her and said, taking her hand, in a
voice the calmness of which contrasted almost supernaturally with the passion she had just exhibited:
"Whom have you seen?"
Clara mentioned the names of several officers of high
rank.
" You have not seen the right one," replied Antonia, with
a dark smile. "I have seen all those men too; they would
do nothing for me. I believe they could do nothing. But
one man can do it-and he shall! "
"Who is that?"
Clara had to repeat the question several times. Antonia
sat there, gnawing her under-lip and staring with sombre eyes
at the ground. At last she started up as from a dream:
" Who is it? I cannot tell you. But you may rely on me.
To-day, I fear, I cannot help you. But I think I can promise you that you shall see him to-morrow, after the court has
given sentence. I hope for even more; but leave me till tomorrow-till to-morrow! "
"What do you mean to do?" asked Clara, frightened by
the expression in Antonia's rigid features.
" I cannot tell you any more. But I beseech you, rely on
me! Tell me something of yourself, of your children."
Clara's face was darkened by a passing shadow.
" I have but one child! " she said, in a low tone.
Antonia touched her forehead like one who does not trust
his senses: " How? What did you say?"
"My boy is dead!" said Clara, in humble resignation.
"A fortnight ago we carried him to his resting-place. He
was sickly ever since last spring. Dr. Brand said it was an
affection of the heart; perhaps he said so to console me
for losing him so early-I do not know."




The House of Hohenstein.         531
"Terrible, terrible!" murmured Antonia.
The clock of the nearest church-steeple struck seven.
Antonia rose suddenly.
"You must leave me now," she said. "Remain quietly at
your lodgings. I will send you word to-morrow. Do not
be troubled if it reaches you only late in the day. I hope
the message will be good."
She led Clara to the door and opened it for her.
Then she went to the writing-table, wrote quickly a few
lines, sealed the note, and rang the bell.
"Carry this letter to-to its address. But please do it
yourself."
" Certainly I will!"
"There will be no answer. The gentleman will probably
bring it himself. You can let him in when he comes."
"Yes, ma'am!"
The girl looked up; the lady had been speaking in such
a very singular tone! She was terrified when she saw Antonia's face so pale and almost disfigured.
"You are sick, ma'am," said the girl; "certainly you
must be sick."
"Oh, no! " replied Antonia.  "I am perfectly well.
Make haste, child, and, do you hear? please carry the letter
yourself!"
The girl felt very strangely. She had never heard such a
voice; she had never in her life seen such a face. She
could not forget it all that evening; she dreamt of it in the
night. She knew that the great lady had a relative in the
" state prisons," and she imagined that the fate of that prisoner might be at stake. That was, no doubt, the reason
why the tall, dark-looking officer, the same to whom she had
carried the lady's letter, had come to see her in the evening.
They must have had very unpleasant things to transact, that
dark-looking gentleman and the great lady, for she had listened a moment at the door, before showing him the way
out again, and she had heard the words: " I have promised;
but if you do not now keep your promise, I shall strangle
you with my own hands;" to which the officer had said something about a " pocket-book " and " safety," which the girl had
only half understood on account of his grim, hoarse laugh.
Next morning, when she brought up breakfast, the great




532           The House of Hohenstein.
lady had, contrary to her habit, not even turned round from
her desk on which she was writing, to acknowledge her wellmeant " Good morning! " Then, about an hour later, she
had rung the bell again, and in a short, rough tone of voice,
and without turning her face from the window at which she
was standing, she had ordered her to engage a carriage for
ten o'clock, and to keep the bill ready.
What could have happened to the dear, great lady, who
had been so kind all this time, and who was suddenly so
haughty and imperious? Little Kate racked her brains as
she was standing at the door, looking at the country wagons
from which the horses had been taken out, and at the clock
in the high steeple, the golden'hand of which pointed nearly
to ten o'clock. Suddenly a voice rather above her than by
her side, asked: "Is the Baroness Hohenstein who lives
here at home?" Little Kate looked up at the countryman
who had asked the question. It was a giant of a man, in a
coarse blue blouse and linen gaiters, with a smoothly-shaven,
vacant face, and a pair of deep-set squinting eyes, which
stared at her with an almost idiotic expression.
"I know she is in," said the huge creature; "show me
up to her, little one. I have important news for her fromfrom her relatives."
"Are they good news?" asked little Kate.
"Why, certainly," said the man, "only make haste; I
have to sell my oats and am in a hurry."
" Kate did not consider long. Good news from her relatives-that was exactly what the poor great lady wanted.
She ran into the house, up the staircase, stopped before the
door and said: " Well, you would better go in there at once,
if you have good news."
The man opened the door cautiously, entered the room,
and immediately pushed the bolt. As he turned round to
Antonia, his face suddenly assumed so different an expression, that even little Kate would never have recognized him
again.
"Who are you?" asked Antonia, involuntarily drawing
back.
The man in the blouse put his finger on his lips and said
quickly in a whisper:
" My name is Cajus. You will know me by my name.




The House of Hohenstein.          533
I am here since yesterday in this disguise, to see what can
be done for him. I know you have done all you could do,
but that is little. Perhaps I can do more, but I want
money for that, and I have none. That is why I come to
you.1"
Munzer and Degenfeld had often spoken of Cajus in
Antonia's presence. She could hardly doubt that the man
before her was really Cajus. And yet-the colonel's account-the pocket-book which she had held in her hand.
"Do you know this pocket-book?" she asked, taking it
out of her desk and holding it out to Cajus.
" I know it very well; it is my pocket-book, which was
found by a poor fellow whom they shot for me. I heard so
from a sergeant who is an old friend of mine, and who was
standing by when they did the foul business. But I thought
it was in the hands of the colonel! "
"So it was. Since yesterday it is in mine!" replied Antonia.
" Then I only hope you may not have paid too dear a
price for it," said Cajus with a strange smile.
"What do you mean?" asked Antonia, whose cheeks
had blazed up like fire at Cajus's last words.
" If the colonel told you, perchance, that he had given you
the contents of the pocket-book as well as the book itself,
he has told you a lie," replied Cajus. The most important
papers, or rather the only important one, the letters which
were really dangerous for Munzer and helped to cost him
his life, lay this morning on the table before the courtmartial."
Antonia staggered to a chair, on the back of which she
rested her trembling hands. But at once she recovered herself, approached quite close to Cajus, and said in a hoarse,
scarcely audible voice:
" Do not let me suffer! what do you know? Has he been
sentenced?"
"Yes. I was told so by the same sergeant of whom I
spoke, and who was at the court-martial. He and Lieutenant
Todwitz voted for imprisonment for life in a fortress, in
order to save Munzer's life at least; the others voted for
capital punishment, under the lead of Colonel Hohenstein,
who moved heaven and hell to bring about such a sentence.




534            The House of Hohenstein.
At last, when they found it impossible to obtain unanimity,
they resolved to recommend him for mercy to the king.
Well, you know what he understands by mercy."
Antonia's cheeks had lost every drop of blood as she listened to Cajus's words with fixed eyes and open lips, as if
she must not lose a word. Then her eyes became even
more fixed, and through her firmly-set teeth she hissed the
one word: "Revenge!"
Cajus's dark eyes flashed up fearfully as the word fell on
his ears.
" I rather think the high-born lady and the plebeian have,
in this case, interests which are almost identical. You love
Munzer. I love him, in my way. You hate the colonel;
you must hate him after Munzer's'condemnation, if you
never hated him before. I hate the colonel, and that from
of old. Shall we go hand in hand, as our intentions are the
same? You have what I want; perhaps I possess some
qualities which might be desirable to you. Are you willing?"
"Yes!" said Antonia.
" Can you give me money?"
" Fifty gold pieces on the spot; in a few days as much as
you want."
"Give them!"
Antonia went to her bureau and placed a roll of money in
Cajus's hand.
" But what are you going to do? What can you do?"
"As long as there is life, there is hope! " replied Cajus.
"I have experienced that in my own life more than a dozen
times. Munzer's case is by no means so desperate yet.
Much can be done before the official answer to his petition
for mercy can return from Berlin; it will take at least a
week. I have a number of warm friends in the army, especially in the ninety-ninth regiment, and a golden key opens
many doors."
A gentle knock at the door interrupted the conversation,
which had been carried on in a whisper.
"Who is it?"
"It is I-Kate. There is a letter here from Colonel Hohenstein."
Antonia went and opened the door. Her step was firm,




The House of Hohenstein.         535
and her hand did not tremble as she broke the seal of the
note which Kate had handed her. The one thought that
was now uppermost in her mind overruled every other sensation.
The note ran thus:
" Fairest of ladies!-I hasten to inform you that our efforts
to save your friend have unfortunately proved fruitless. I
did what I could. Perhaps your friend will receive his life
at the hands of the monarch, although the court-martial,
against my desire and my expectations, has condemned him.
As the prisons here are overcrowded, and some of the prisoners must be carried elsewhere, I thought I would anticipate your wishes by ordering that your friend should be
included in a detachment which will be sent to Cologne. I
presume you will desire to remain as near him as possible;
and as I am just now overwhelmed with business, and shall,
therefore, hot be able to see you to-day, I wish you a pleasant journey-with the sentiment which you share.
"Your            G.H."
"Read it!" said Antonia, handing Cajus the note.
Cajus read it attentively.
" Hm! They want to send you off; that is clear. But
if that is so with Munzer, if he is to be tried once more in
Cologne on account of the share he took in the riots therethen we have a better chance there than here. At all events,
you ought to leave this very day. The less you make a mystery of your interest in Munzer's fate, the better it will be.
People do not expect that a person who so openly manifests
his sympathies, is at the same time plotting in secret. If
nothing can be done on the way, I'll be in town as soon as
the transport.  Perhaps you will then have to be kind
enough to conceal me for some time in your house. Until
then you will have to provide some more money; I will write
when it is needed. One thing more! It is probable they
will watch your correspondence. We must therefore negotiate in our letters about a valuable painting which is on the
way for you from Italy. When can you leave?"
"Instantly. May I take Munzer's wife with me, if she is
willing to accompany me?"
"Yes!" said Cajus, after thinking a while. "They will
fear two women less than one. Farewell!"




536            The House of Hohenstein.
He threw the bag he had laid down at the door, again
over his shoulder and went out. A few moments later, Antonia saw him walk-up the street with slow, clumsy step.
She made the preparations for her departure quietly, composedly, as if all were as it ought to be. Her heart was as
silent as a desert in which a venomous Simoon has killed
every vestige of life. She was not even distinctly conscious
of her thirst after vengeance as a separate feeling: her
whole being was so completely absorbed in it, that she
breathed vengeance as she breathed air, and resolved it with
every pulsation of her heart.
0 —
C.HAPTER       XX.
O   NE evening, in the beginning of September-perhaps
two months after the last events-Aunt Bella and
Ottilia were sitting in the front-room of the house in
River street; Aunt Bella in the sofa corner, Ottilia before
her at a large table, on which the lamp was so placed as to give
both ladies as much light as possible. But their work-a
large rug on which a gigantic, blackish-brown boar was surrounded by a pack of light-brown and yellow dogs with
wide-open red mouths; while a huntsman in dark green, as
yet without head or arms, was standing ready to thrust a
spear, not yet begun, into his shaggy breast-their work,
though almost finished, lay idle on their lap, and it did not
look as if much would be done this evening to complete it.
Aunt Bella had pushed her spectacles up on her forehead,
and looked over the table at Ottilia, who stared before her
so thoughtfully that the green huntsman, who rested on her
lap, evidently owed it to his headless condition alone if his
heart did not beat high in his worsted bosom. Aunt Bella
shook her head gently, sighed low, dropped her glasses
again on her nose, sewed a few stitches, looked once more
at Ottilia, took off her spectacles with an energetic effort,
threw them into her work-basket, and said angrily:
"No, it won't do. I am only making one mistake after
another."




The House of Hohenstein.         537
" What is the matter, dear aunt?" asked Ottilia, starting
up from her dream almost frightened.
" Yes, what is the matter? That's all! " replied Bella.
"I have asked you that question three times to-night, and
you have not answered it once."
" Oh! don't be angry, dear aunty; my heart is so heavy!"
said Ottilia, and as she said it her beautiful blue eyes filled
with tears. She raised them imploringly to her aunt.
" I am not angry! " growled Aunt Bella, instantly pacified by this sight. " I thought you at least might know that
I cannot be angry with you, or do you also fall in now with
certain other people, who say I have no heart? I have a
heart, but I don't carry it in my apron, and Holm might know
that by this time.'
" Holm did not mean any harm; he was very much excited!"
" Harm or no harm, he ought not to have spoken so to
an old friend-I mean a friend whom he has known so long.
And as to his excitement, we are all excited, God knows! I
no less than other people; but that does not keep me from
using my five senses, and from knowing that right is still
right, and wrong is wrong, in spite of all your fantastic fiddlesticks. And if you were to tear me to pieces and to pinch
me with red-hot pincers, I cannot say otherwise than that
Munzer has deserved his fate. A man who can leave his
wife and his children, and ruin them into the bargain, does
not deserve that the sun should shine upon him; and if he
gets to-morrow a few years' imprisonment, in addition to his
imprisonment for life, I shall be glad-well, no! I shall not
be glad, but it will be perfectly right.  Political martyr!
Bad enough that his political notions made him forget his
most sacred duties; but look here, Ottilia, I swear to you:
if it had happened so for that reason only, I should say
nothing. I don't understand politics. I am too stupid for
that. But I know perfectly well what is the real reason, the
one that you never choose to mention; that I can understand
very well; in fact, I understand that a great deal better than
any of you. The real reason is, after all, his passion for that
woman, that Antonia-whom, by the way, I can't think so
very beautiful as you make her out. That passion has
simply made him mad; that is why he did not look right or
23*




538           The House of Hohenstein.
left, but ran straight into destruction. If ever a man dug a pit
for himself to fall in, it was Munzer. And because my eyes
are, God be thanked! sharp enough yet to see all that in
the right light, you say I have no heart! why, nice people
you are! "
Aunt Bella began, in her great excitement, to roll up the
rug, looking exceedingly angry.
"Aunty! "said Ottilia, very decidedly, "you mistake the
matter. Right must be right always, certainly! But it is
not right to treat Munzer, because he has fought bravely for
his political convictions, as if he were a common robber.
In that respect he did neither more nor less than very many
other people, Wolfgang among them; and as for that other
thing, that is for Munzer's conscience to settle, hard though
he may find it; but the judges have nothing to do with
that!"
"Have nothing tq:do with that! " replied Aunt Bella, with
much irritation.," pray don't trouble yourself, I can roll up
the rug alon e-have nothing to do with it! then a man does.
not deserve punishment when he sins against his wife and
children, as if he were not a Christian man, but the Grand
Turk, or the Dey of Tunis! Well, I don't care! It is all
right to me! God be thanked! I have no husband and no
children! But how you can defend such outrages, you who
I hope will be married one of these days-that is utterly beyond me. I should like to know what you would do if you
should be in poor Clara's situation?  God forbid that it
should ever come to pass! Put I should just like to know!"
Aunt Bella struck the rolled-up rug with the flat of her
hand and leaned back in her sofa-corner, with the air of a
person who is persuaded she has finally settled a very difficult question.
"If I were in the situation?"
Ottilia looked thoughtfully down. "If I were in Clara's
situation, I hope I should think, and feel, and act, as generously as Clara does, who has a right to condemn Munzer,
if she does not condemn him. And does she do it? Has
ever a word of blame passed her lips? No, aunty, Clara
herself is the best evidence against you. And then, aunty,
in this matter the question is not about right and wrong: the
question is how to set Munzer free, to save him from a fate




The House of Hohenstein.         539
which is worse than death. How can you hesitate for a moment whether you would like to see him free or not? You,
who are generally so kind and self-sacrificing, how can you
hesitate now?  Is it not enough to make us all wonder?
And can you blame poor Holm so much, if he in his excitement calls you heartless, a thing which. he believes just as
little as anybody else?"
Aunt Bella had not expected so energetic an answer to
her last question.  She had no remedy, therefore, but to
break out in tears, and to assert most positively that she
was the wretchedest being on earth, and altogether misunderstood and misjudged.' But I won't be a burden to you
much longer," she sobbed. " I shall leave a world in which
nobody loves me any more; and when I am dead and buried,
and the tight coffin and -the black earth weigh heavily on
me, you will perhaps come to your senses, and see that
your poor aunt was not so very bad, after all. Then you
will find out that I never thought of myself; but only of you,
in all I said and did; and that Munzer, as far as I. am.concerned, might have been as free as a Condor in the air, if I
had not seen that those whom I hold dearest upon earth
risk their life for his sake, and may be taken and shot, and
imprisoned for life, as far as I know. Oh! it will drive me
crazy, these secret confabulations of yours, this eternal conspiring and bribing of jailors, which is strictly prohibited by
the laws of the land. I no sooner fall asleep than I start up
again, because I fancy I have heard them' knock at the door
and cry out, In the name of the law, open! My nerves won't
stand it any longer; and if Wolfgang comes-my dear, dear
Wolfgang, whom I love as the apple of my eye, whom these
stupid people have condemned to death, as if one of them
was worthy of unloosing the latchet of his shoes-why it is
exactly as if Daniel had run of his own accord into the lion's
den. I shall die with anxiety whether I choose or not."
Who knows how long Aunt Bella might have continued in
this strain, if Ottilia had not suddenly fallen around her
neck, sobbing and crying 6ut: " Stop, aunty, stop! I cannot
bear to hear you talking thus about Wolfgang! "
Aunt Bella's tears ceased the moment she saw Ottilia's
tears flow; to have caused her darling to cry-that was not
what she intended. Evidently, she had gone too far.




540            The House of  ohenstein.
" Well, well! " she said, trying to soothe her, and stroking
the fair curls which trembled on her bosom. " I did not
mean any harm. Be quiet, little timid hare; he won't be
mad enough to come here, where so many people know him,
and where he could not remain twenty-four hours without
being recognized."
The curls suddenly ceased to tremble, and the sweet,
blushing face which they surrounded, rose up to her Aunt
Bella.
"Yes, aunt!" she said, with much determination; " he is
coming."
"Nonsense!" replied Aunt Bella.
"As sure as I —"
"Well, what? " said Aunt Bella, as Ottilia suddenly paused
and blushed.
Ottilia did not complete her sentence, but began gathering
up all her little sewing material.
" Of course," said Aunt Bella, " if people go so far that
they cannot talk of certain things to their only surviving
aunt, they prefer being silent and packing up their things, as
if that made the heart lighter. If people cannot talk to me
of Wolfgang, I should like to know to whom they can do so.
Who loves the boy as dearly as I do? Who has given him
as many cakes and apples as I have? Who has shed as
many tears of joy as I did, when he grew taller and finerlooking with every year, and was always the first at school,
and at gymnastics, and at skating, and yet remained all the
time as good and sweet as when he was a little bit of a boy?
And who has suffered as much as I have, amid all the misfortunes that have befallen him after all, as if there was no
more justice in heaven? No, no, my dear Ottilia, Wolfgang
has no better friend than I am."
"That I know, aunty dear!" said Ottilia, smiling amid
her tears.
"Well, why won't you tell me, then, why you expect him
so positively?" asked Aunt Bella, quickly.
" I have a presentiment, aunty."
" Ah! You have a presentiment! Well, then, you ought
not always to be laughing at my presentiments. To be sure,
Peter says so too, but has there ever been folly like that? I
thank God every evening that the boy is safely far away, has




The House of Hohenstein.          54I
found such a friend in Major Degenfeld's brother, who must
be a charming man-and now the girl has a presentiment!
Tell me, girl-will you tell me the truth or not? Will you
tell me whether you love Wolfgang or not? "
Aunt Bella had asked Ottilia the same question.more than
once during the last months, and had each time been very
much out of humor for twenty-four hours when Ottilia " still
had no confidence in her aunt," and gave an evasive answer,
or no answer at all. And Aunt Bella would have liked to
know so much! These "two children " were her favorites,
and engaged all her thoughts, and hopes, and wishes. To
see the two united, had been her silent prayer from the day
on which Ottilia came to Cologne. She had given up the
hope of seeing it ever fulfilled when Wolfgang became engaged to Camilla; but now when Wolfgang, once more free,
was living with Mr. Degenfeld, the major's twin-brother, by
whom he had been received not as a stranger but as an old
friend, and might, if report could be relied upon, consider
himself as the probable heir to a very large fortune-now
Aunt Bella looked once more upon her wishes as approaching fulfilment. She had, in her quiet, sleepless hours at night,
painted to herself the whole story as it might come to pass,
or, in her words, as it ought to come to pass-Wolfgang in
a pleasant position, respected and well-to-do, owner of an
estate or of a factory, or some such thing-the boy was fit
for anything-in a paradisaic region, which Aunt Bella had
repeatedly seen very distinctly in her dreams-married to
Ottilia! Aunt Bella herself paying " her children " a visit
of a few months, especially during the summer, if all arrangements were convenient; perhaps also in winter, though
less willingly; dividing her time between the house in River
street and the beautiful villa in the well-known paradisaic
region! Then, when she should be too feeble to travel, settling down quietly, either at the old house or at the villaAunt Bella never could decide in her mind which she would
prefer, often as she had proposed the question to herselfbut at all events in one of the two houses, cheerfully watched
and waited on by people who loved her, and who would
therefore readily overlook any little weaknesses which might
possibly occur in the course of years; and not, like the poor
old women in the Hospital of St. Ursula, laughed at and




542           The House of Ho?/istein.
mocked by the boys in the street! Such had been the picture of the future for herself and her "children," which
Aunt Bella's busy imagination had filled up in all details.
And now she was not to be allowed to find out, at least not
to find out quite positively; whether this strange, reserved
girl, Ottilia, really loved poor Wolfgang! It was too bad, in
all conscience! Aunt Bella ought to let the little one
feel that everything in this world has an end, even the patience of a good old aunt. She rose, therefore, from her
sofa, declaring that she was going to bed, for the sole purpose of being able to answer Ottilia's usual question, " Can
I do anything for you, aunty?" with a cold and haughty,
"Thanks, I can go to bed alone! " But, oh wonder! Ottilia did not ask her usual question, but said, while Aunt
Bella was lighting her candle, " Good-night, aunty, I hope
you will sleep well!" Aunt Bella did not believe her own
ears. Was such obstinacy possible? Could anybody be so
blind? Well! She was used to seeing her best intentions
misinterpreted; she could, if needs be, put on her night
things without assistance (although she always had difficulty in slipping on the right sleeve); and Aunt Bella rushed
out of the room, after having cast a glance at Ottilia, in
which she tried to gather up all her grief, her pride, and her
resignation.
Ottilia had remained sitting at the table, her head resting
on her hand, and was not thinking in the least of Aunt
Bella's great grief, but only of the very peculiar tone in
which Uncle Peter had said to her, as he left the house with
Doctor Holm: "Try to get your aunt to bed early, and keep
awake yourself; send Salome also to bed; we shall probably
return late, and perhaps we will bring somebody with us, for
whose sake you can afford sitting up an hour longer."
Who could this mysterious somebody be? Uncle Peter
had repeatedly hinted at it, that Wolfgang might perhaps come,
in order to take the direction of the measures for Doctor
Munzer's liberation. If he had not spoken more clearly, it
was probably on Aunt Bella's account, who always broke out
into a flood of tears whenever Wolfgang's name was mentioned in connection with this "horrid conspiracy." Or did
Uncle Peter mistrust Ottilia also? Did he think she would
not like to see Wolfgang again, because the meeting might




The House of Hohenstein.          543
be fraught with danger for him? But she did not know her
uncle as well as she ought to have done. He would not
have shrunk from any danger for the sake of rendering
Munzer such a service; nor would Doctor Holm. And
could she be as proud of Wolfgang as she was, if he had
hesitated for a'moment? It is true, the others did not risk
their lives, but Wolfgang had been condemned to death in
eontumaciam, and would no doubt be shot if he should be
caught. Uncle Peter himself had said so more than once,
and Doctor Holm had added that it was well known how
certain circles were still divided between their satisfaction at
Degenfeld's death and their anger at Wolfgang's escape.
Ottilia's heart began to beat quickly as she reflected on all
this during the quiet night-hour. It was, after all, well considered a fearful venture; and although Wolfgang, as a matter of course, possessed more courage, presence of mind, and
cleverness than all the others, still it was quite as certain
that he would claim the most difficult and most dangerous
part of the business as his own; and how easily could a'
letter be interrupted or a password be betrayed; how easily
could somebody recognize him, and then the worst was to
be expected!
The young girl rose from her chair. Whether it was the
close air in the room, the stillness of night, or a presentiment
of something great and fearful that was to decide her whole
future life-her bosom was oppressed; she would have liked
to cry, and yet she would also have liked to be active, and to
prepare the path for Wolfgang. Ah! how carefully she
would watch! She would overlook no precaution-for Uncle
Peter and Doctor Holm could not possibly think of everything! Why had not uncle told her all? Was it not cruel
in him to leave her here alone with this uncertainty, this
anxiety? And was not there somebody coming up the street
with rapid strides, pausing now, right before the house?
Was not the key put into the lock? Nobody except uncle and
Doctor Holm had a key to the front-door! And now a light,
quick step came up the stairs! Her blood ceased to flow to
her heart; she dared not stir or breathe-her eyes fixed
upon the door, equally unable to flee, and to go to meet the
new-comer. She was standing there, the loveliest picture of
joyful terror. A hand, which easily found the door-knob,




544'he House of Hohenstein.
opened the door; a tall, slender figure stood on the threshold-and then came up to her with open arms. She saw
Wolfgang's face as in a dream  she flew towards him and
lay on his bosom. Not a word had been spoken; why
should they tell each other that this was the moment for
which they had longed and yearned, oh how long! and which
they had yet known must come sooner or later! And now
it was there-the blissful, blissful moment!
Ottilia recovered herself first. She withdrew from his
arms, went to the window, let down the curtains, listened at
the door which led into the inner apartments, and then came
back to Wolfgang, to take him by the hand and to lead him
on tiptoe to the darkest corner of the room, where, close by
the old cuckoo clock, the "little sofa " stood, a children's
sofa, dating from the better days of the Schmitz family.
There she made him sit down by her-very close, or they
could not hear each other's whispers; and now the happiness! to hold his hands, to be quite sure that he was there;
to look into his sunburnt face, the fine features of which had
become so much more manly and energetic; to hear his voice,
as he told her how anxiously he had looked forward to this
hour, and how grateful he had been for the ring that had
been a talisman to him in all trouble and danger, and how
he hoped the ring would protect him now also, when he was
endeavoring to snatch a noble victim from the jaws of tyranny.
" Tell me all, Wolfgang," the girl begged him, looking at
him beseechingly with her large eyes. "I am stronger than
you think; I can hear it all; but uncertainty I cannot bear.
What do you mean to do? When is it to be done? How
are you going to do it?"
"You shall hear it all, darling," replied Wolfgang. "I
would have told you long ago if I had been here, and cannot
understand why Uncle Peter has kept our plan such a secret from you. Munzer is to be liberated by force, and tomorrow. We know through our spies that he is to be carried
to-morrow night, at the close of the trial, very quickly and very
quietly, up the river to a distant railway station. They are
afraid of letting him be seen at the station here; they even think
the jail might be stormed! The cowardly fools! As if we
would think of making a street tumult, if the people would




The House of Hohenstein.          545
only protect its heroes! Cajus and Ruchel, who are at Antonia's house, will leave there to-morrow evening at the same
time that I and Kettenberg leave here on horseback, so that we
can meet half an hour this side of Rheinfeld in a little birchwood. If fortune favors us-and it will favor us for your
sake, darling!-Munzer is free before midnight. You need
not apprehend too much danger. The police constables are
so completely demoralized by Antonia's gold-she has spent
thousands-that the government has not half a dozen on
whom they can fully rely; and if chance should be malignant
enough to pick out this half dozen, they cannot possibly resist, utterly unprepared as they are, four men who are resolute
and determined."
" But how did you win over Kettenberg? " asked Ottilia;
"the report was that he had been jilted by the baroness and
was hostile to Munzer."
"Admire, then, the ingenuity of this woman and her knowledge of men! " replied Wolfgang, laughing. "When the
question arose who was to be the fourth man, as four were
required, and Antonia proposed Kettenberg, I laughed outright. But Antonia said, with her dark air, which she now
always wears:'I will write to him; in a week he will be
here!' She wrote, and the week was not out when Kettenberg met us in Switzerland. He has espoused our cause for
the sake of Antonia's beautiful eyes, with a passion as if
Munzer were his own brother, and has become eminently
useful to us by his cleverness and adroitness. Besides, he
is a capital horseman, perfectly at home with arms as if it
were his profession; and with all his passionate temper, as
cool in the moment of danger as Cajus."
"And Cajus?"
" Has entered Antonia's service, since Munzer's condemnation, as head-steward, or whatever you choose to call it;
and I can assure you, he did not move a feature when he
helped, yesterday, Baron Rudi, alias Ruchel, out of his carriage."
" And what is to be done next? " asked Ottilia.
" Now comes the hardest part of our undertaking," continued Wolfgang. "I mean how to carry Munzer across
the frontier. We want our friend Miller for that purpose,
the captain of the steam-tug, who aided Munzer and Degen



546            The House of Hohenstein.
feld in their first flight from Rheinfeld. Unfortunately he will
not be down for three days, and we have determined to hide
Munzer until then in Balthasar's tower. The idea, which
by the way is my own, is rather a bold one, but quite practical. There is no safer hiding-place in the world than
that tower, to which only Ruchel and myself know the entrance. We are close to the river; and Churchtown, where
the steamer lands, is only a quarter of an hour distant. Antonia's carriage can bring us there in seven minutes. And
then we shall gain this by it, that they will look for Munzer
all along the frontier, while he quietly hides in the Witches'
Tower, so that we can wait there, if needs be, for a better
opportunity."
" And is Clara Munzer informed of your plan?"
" She knows that we are determined to set Munzer free,
but she does not yet know the details of the plan; for we
have agreed upon them but just now at Doctor Brand's
house, where Uncle Peter, Doctor Holm, and the others, are
still assembled. I am in favor of telling her everything.
What do you think?"
"No doubt! I know from my own experience how trying this uncertainty is! What does the baroness say to it?"
"I believe she will agree with us. She always speaks in
terms of the highest admiration of Clara Munzer. And
now I must go, darling!"
"But, Wolfgang, what will Aunt Bella say if she hears
that you have been in the house without having seen her?
Of are you going to stay with us? Ah yes! You must
stay with us! Do!"
And she laid both her hands on his shoulders, around his
neck, as if she could never let him go again.
" I cannot stay with you, darling. Aunt Bella must know
nothing of it, at least not till all is over. And now I must
return to the others, who are waiting for important news
from one of our men and for my return. I had only half
an hour's leave of absence."
" Where are you staying? Are you safe, quite safe?"
"As safe as I can be. In old Moss's old garden-house,
in company with a delightful rope-ladder, by means of which
I can, at the least sign of danger, let myself down the city
wall, and within twenty yards reach a horse, which stands




The House of Hohenstein.         547
there saddled, day and night, in an old barn belonging to
Moss. The old man always was a stern republican, but he
is sterner than ever since my mother's death. According to
him, all the misfortunes of the world are due to the aristocrats, especially to the Hohenstein family, whom he looks
upon as the essence of all that is hateful.
" He loves me because I am my mother's son. He has
married our old Ursula in all haste, merely in order to have
somebody to whom he can talk of my mother! And now
farewell, my darling, I must not stay any longer."
" I will go down with you! " said Ottilia.
She took the lamp and went in front of him, shading the
light with her hand, along the gallery, down the stairs, till
they reached the lower hall. She put the lamp on the lowest step, and led Wolfgang through the hall to the front-door.
They held each other closely embraced. "Wolfgang, I do
not ask you when I shall see you again; but I shall die if I
do not see you."
" And I, darling, shall not die, but live-live with you, my
life!"
He drew the weeping girl once more to his heart, kissed
her hair, her eyes, her lips, and tore himself away. Ottilia
hastened back upstairs to the bay-window, to see, if possible,
the beloved one once more. But the night was too dark;
she only heard his hurried steps as they gradually receded
down the silent street.
She listened till the last sound had passed away. Then
she went very cautiously to her chamber; and when she had
put out her light, she folded her hands as she used to do as
a child, and prayed in a low, low whisper: " Oh, let me live
-live with him, my life! "
CHAPTER XXI.
THE monster trial of the participants in the Rheinfeld
emeate was to be concluded to-day: a hundred witnesses for the government, eighty for the defence.
The city had been in a state of feverish excitement for a




548            The House of Hohenstein.
week. The building in which the jury was sitting had for
eight days been surrounded every morning by a crowd of
people, of whom only the smallest part could gain admittance; for eight days they had been sitting and standing in
the court-room, following the trial with increasing eagerness.
The habitues pointed out, with a certain pride, the most important actors in this interesting drama to strangers or such
unlucky persons as had not been able to obtain tickets
before the sixth or seventh day. "The tall, dark man on
the bench of the accused, who rests his pale face on his
hands, is Doctor Munzer. The gentleman on the second
bench, who is just now wiping his head with his handkerchief, is Doctor Holm; the little man with the steel-gray
hair, by his side, is Peter Schmitz. And do you see the lady
before them on the front seat?-the pale one, who looks so
fixedly at Munzer? That is his wife. They have never
once during the whole time allowed her to see her husband;
now she has met him for the first time. When she comes
in, they all make room for her, and take off their hats as if
she were a queen. You see? Now Doctor Munzer looks
at her, and she smiles in return. They say that Munzer has
not been faithful to her; he loved a Baroness Hohenstein.
But that is another lie, such as these aristocrats cut out of
the whole cloth to injure us poor people. I have known the
baroness a long time; I have worked for her, and ought to
know, I am sure. The baroness is not here to-day; the
other days she always used to sit behind that pillar there.
She always had a black veil before her face. Now the doctor rises. Now you'll see how he talks; you never heard
the like of it, I am sure, in all your life!"
There was much rustling and moving, much whispering
and low murmuring in the hall, and then deep, breathless
silence. Munzer had risen, when the president had allowed
him to speak. His fine face was very pale, and sharp eyes
saw that his dark, full hair had turned gray here and there.
But that might be the effect of the evening light, which fell
gray and cold through the window opposite to him into the
room. All noticed the deep, scarcely-healed wound, which
passed broad and red across his forehead from the corner of
the eye up to the hair. However much the proud strength
of the man might be undermined by illness and mental suf



The House of Hohenstein.          549
fering, in his fine dark eyes there shone still the old fire,
and his deep rich voice had not lost its music, as he now
began to speak: "I am in the peculiar position," he said,
" of being able to speak of my own affairs like one who looks
from the clouds down upon earthly matters. For, gentlemen of the jury, I have nothing to fear and nothing to hope
from your decision. Honored already with lifelong imprisonment for what I have done upon another and a larger
stage than this town, you would have first to understand the
mystery of being able to add to the number of my days, if
you should wish to prolong the sufferings of my prison-life,
or you would have to deny me life itself. The former you
cannot do; the latter, I apprehend, is inadmissible under
existing circumstances. I am, therefore, perfectly free from
all passionate excitement, which generally troubles the mind
of the accused. I feel as free, standing before you, as you are
yourselves. Thus, without hatred, without fear, without
anger, and without hope, I may speak the truth, and I mean
to do it. Yes, gentlemen, I tell you candidly-and I beg
you will not look upon it as an evidence of want of respect,
but as the result of three months' unbroken reflection, which
may rock even a tempestuous heart to rest-I tell you that
I would make no use of this, my last opportunity in life, to
speak a free word, but silently disappear again in the night
of my dungeon if I were to act for myself only. But I must
plead the cause of these men, my companions and friends,
who are sitting to-day, for my sake-yes, gentlemen, for my
sake-upon the bench of the accused. Slaves of poverty
and ignorance, as they are for the most part, not one of them
would, as far as I know, have ventured to rise against the
oppression and the sorrows of a miserable fate, if I had not
approached them, personifying in their eyes their silent grief,
their secret wrath, their nameless sufferings. It was I who
taught them to spell and to read the fearful word Revolution;
it was I who stirred them up and frightened them into deeds,
into that one deed for which they are now under trial. I feel
it my duty to make this statement here in this solemn hour,
which is for me the faint evening twilight before an eternal
night, in the face of my friends, in the face of my enemies,
in the face of men on whose affections I can count in life
and in death. This sense of duty alone has enabled me to




550           The House of Hohenstein.
bear with stoic indifference all the sufferings of the body and
the soul; this alone has kept me from dying. And thus I
declare and confess before you and before the higher tribunal
of history, before which you, gentlemen, and I and these
men, are all of us clients together, that half of the guilt, if guilt
there must be, falls upon me, the agitator, the ringleader;
but the other half, which is perhaps more than half of the
whole, falls-but of that permit me to say more hereafter; I
desire first to form the accusation brought against me by the
government more accurately than has been done.
" The public prosecutor has praised at length my intelligence at the expense of my character. If you were to believe
him, I should deserve for the one a place among the wisest
men of the age; and as for the other, the burning pool in
Rubens' Last Judgment would not be hot enough for me.
The public prosecutor has endeavored to represent me as a
man with the heart of a Catiline and the mind of a Plato, a
chimera, a logical impossibility, a moral monster.  I shall
take care, gentleman, not to commit the same error of exaggeration, nor to make an effort to convince you of the contrary. The truth of the matter is, that I am neither as good
nor as bad as the public prosecutor would have me appear;
neither as wise, for then I would not be here; nor as wicked,
for then also I would not be here. What I have to pay for,
and am ready to pay for, is exactly my want of wisdom,
which in politics amounts to a crime. What I have to pay
for is my weak heart, which was moved by the pictures of
poverty and misery placed daily before my eyes, which was
pained and tortured by the hoarse voices of hunger and care
that surrounded my very cradle. If I were a selfish theorist I
should not have fought for such feelings; if I had been
simply prudent, I should have saved my life by flight long before
the day of battle came; if I had been wise, I should have
seen that the mine by means of which I thought to blow
up this proud and yet so imperfect edifice of modern society,
was far from being long and deep and powerful enough; and
that a handful of good people, who have been made to appreciate their misery, do not suffice to make a German republic. I might say this, gentlemen, if I merely desired to
give you, in place of the caricature which the public accuser
has exhibited to you, a portrait which bears at least human




The House of Hohenstein.         551
features, and has a probability of likeness in its favor. But
I meant to say the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but
the truth; and therefore I confess that on the evening on
which I gave by my example the signal for the march to
Rheinfeld, I no longer believed in the success of that enterprise, or even the partial success of the whole German revolution. I confess that that act was the act of a desperate
man, who sees the cause lost for which he has fought during
twenty years, and who throws his life with indifference after
the cause. Whether I had a right, as husband and as father,
to dispose thus of my own life, is a question which only the
eye of eternal love can fathom; whether I was at liberty to
do so as a public man, that has probably long ago been decided by those who know neither enthusiasm nor despair;
but what I was not at liberty to do as a man, and as a public man, was to carry these friends and adherents of mine
with me over the precipice, and to dispose of their lives and
their property as if they had been only shadows of my own
body. If I had raised my voice on that night as loud
against the proposed emeute as some of my friends did,
whom I now thank for it in the spirit, all would have happened
differently; and whatever might have been my fate, these
men would not be here on trial. That they are here, that is
my crime, that is the one-half of the guilt for which I suffer
in my conscience more than you or any jury on earth can
make me suffer.
"But, gentlemen, mark me well! This is but one-half
of the guilt; the other half, I charge not to your accountfor I do not know you, and do not wish to know you-but
to the account of all the indifferent, the lukewarm, the divided minds who cannot say yes or no, or rather who say
yes and no in the same breath; to the account of those who
forget their duty, who are not to be found in the hour of
danger, who do not or cannot understand that in times of
great political excitement, everybody must choose his party,
if the demon revolution is not to become a horror. I charge
it to the account of the wealthy citizen who sells liberty for
thirty pieces of silver, of the timid scholar who asserts with
timid, self-pleased smile that his study is his world, of the
exhausted fop who laughs at all enthusiasm, of the cowardly
office-holder who swallows every wrong for the sake of his




552            The Hos of Hohenstein.
" daily bread," of the whole herd of weaklings of every class
and every age, who, incapable of any manly act, want peace
at all hazards, and at any cost, even at the price of disgraceful humiliation. They, the drones in the commonwealth,
who ever hang around tyranny and help to increase its oppressive weight, have done more harm by their inactivity,
than any one of the poor men who has boldly seized a gun
or a paving-stone in behalf of his political convictions, however absurd they may have been. They are the evil mildew
which has as yet blasted the efforts of every spring in which
our poor, ill-treated nation promised to bloom forth to new
vigor and new life. They are to be blamed if the young
day of freedom has ever promptly changed again into the old
dark night. And if this night is not quite as dark now as it
has been, to whom is this due, if not to these political criminals, these murderous republicans, these raging madmen,
who have at least the pluck to fire a gun, and to be fired at?
Yes, gentlemen, in this sense I do not hesitate to call my
action, which in another sense appears even to me a crime,
a praiseworthy deed. These poor men here, whom I have
cheated out of the happiness of a quiet existence, may curse
me; but you, you owe me a crown of laurel. If you are still
able to lift up your heads as you do, it is surely not your
merit, but the merit of the immortal rabble, whom tyranny
respects more than it admits, of whom it shoots down in
open battle, behind the barricade, or on the glacis of a fortress, as many as it can, but to whom it also makes concessions which benefit you alone. But do not rely too much on
these hard hands, which must do laborers' work for the modicum of liberty which you enjoy in comfort while they are
exposed to every hardship outside! Think in time of enlarging the building, so that all can find room within! Otherwise you might one of these days be aroused at a very
inconvenient hour! Remember that social revolution is
like the Roman Sibyl, who was rudely and scornfully refused
again and again, and yet came back again and again, but
each time offering less for a higher price! Hear the voice
of a man who has spent all the powers of his mind and his
heart in reading this dark, difficult book: Pay the price
before it is too late! Take that hard hand before it crushes
you! Make your peace with the masses, that blind Samson,




The House of Hohenstein.         553
before he does what otherwise he cannot help, and tears
down the mighty pillar, and buries you and himself alike
under the ruins! If I could hope that this warning would
find an echo somewhere within the walls of this building, if
I could think that the genius of our nation, in his efforts to
solve great political and social questions, has used us for an
experiment which destroys us, but which brings the solution
to coming generations, then I would willingly disappear
from the arena without glory and without thanks, and console myself, come what may, with the knowledge that the
stone rejected by the builders will yet become the cornerstone! And may this thought comfort, also, you who love
me! On that glorious morning when the banners that are
now trailing in the dust shall wave from every roof and battlement, and when the golden light of the sun shall shine
upon a free nation, may you then remember me without sorrow, may you then grant me the satisfaction of saying: he
erred grievously and sinned deeply in life, but he died for
his ideal-for a German social republic!"
The immense crowd which filled the court-room up to the
remotest corners, had listened to Munzer's words in breathless silence. Now, as he sank back on his bench, pale and
exhausted, a storm of applause broke loose, as if the walls
were to come down on their heads. There were no cheers
-it was a noise like rattling thunder, or the roaring of a
mighty cataract. Women were seen melting in tears, men
were seen grinding their teeth, and savagely brandishing
their closed fists.
The president's parchment face looked yellower than ever;
in his terror he cast imploring looks at Munzer. The latter
rose, stepped forward to the bar, and raised his hands, commanding silence. And suddenly as this madness had broken
out, it subsided again, and once more breathless silence
reigned in the hall.
The president thought it best to improve the moment; he
declared with trembling voice that such interruptions could
not be tolerated, and that the room must be cleared.
It was evident that it would have required but a nod or
a sign from Munzer, and these hundreds of men, whose
blood was heated to madness, would have risen like a swollen stream, would have rushed behind the bar, crushing,
24




554            The House of Hohenstein.
trampling under foot, and killing instantly the judge, the jury,
the court officials-all! But Munzer gave no sign. His
words: For my sake! For the love of me! fell like oil
upon the troubled waters.
All rose, solemnly, as when a priest invokes a blessing from
on high. They saw how Peter Schmitz went up to Clara
Munzer and offered her his arm to escort her out of the room.
Doctor Holm followed. In the fearful crush a lane opened
as if by magic. Weeping eyes, painfully rigid, reverential
faces! Behind them the crowd surged up again, and slowly
the stream rolled down through the wide-open folding-doors,
along the passages, upon the open square before the Court
House, where it was swallowed up by thousands, who were
waiting for the verdict.
And all these thousands bared their heads as Clara, accompanied by Peter Schmitz and Holm, came down the
steps and entered a carriage, in which the two gentlemen
also took seats.
But little was wanting to make the people take out the
horses, and themselves carry triumphantly to her home the
wife of the man in whom they now saw a martyr of liberty.
The excitement spread from the square all over the city.
Everywhere groups were seen forming, in which the'last
news from the Court House was discussed. The trial did
not end till six o'clock. Munzer and perhaps half of the accused were sentenced to imprisonment for a longer or shorter
term.  Munzer, it was said, had been taken back to his
prison through a secret passage. It was long after midnight
before the crowd entirely left the square in front of the Court
House.
But the next day brought even more startling news. First
as an unauthenticated report; then more reliable accounts
came in, and at last it was known as a certainty that the
carriage in which Munzer was to have been carried away at
night, had been stopped near Rheinfeld by a crowd of
masked, heavily-armed horsemen, who had disarmed the
escort, in spite of their desperate defence, and escaped with
Munzer. Men who had never seen each other in their lives,
told each other the story in the streets.  Have they any
suspicion? Suspicion in abundance, but nothing on which
they can act. Half the city is in the plot. Do you know




The House of Hohenstein.          555
already?  Of course.  Also that the police has searched
Peter Schmitz's house, and the Baroness Hohenstein's
house? They can hardly have found much. God forbid!
But must they not have been fine fellows?  Well, I should
think so. I wish I had been near! And where do you
think, eh? The French frontier is, not far off. And I dare
say they have first-rate passports! Ha, ha, ha!
In the meantime the telegraph was hard at work, and
mounted messengers flew in all directions. The marvellous
boldness with which the whole had been executed, had inflamed the anger of the authorities, and spurred them on to
the most energetic activity; but two, three days passed, and
as yet not the slightest trace had been found of the abducted
man or of the attacking party.
-0 —
CHAPTER XXII.
MUNZER'S escape created an immense sensation, not
only amongst the classes with whom he had come
most in contact through his political activity, but also
in other circles of the great city, and perhaps the greatest in
the highest circles. His relations to the Baroness Hohenstein had for a time been a favorite topic of conversation;
the "picturesque Intermezzo," as Wyse had called Antonia's
little affair with Kettenberg, had been heartily laughed at;
it was so exactly in Antonia's line. While the two were believed to be in Italy together, letters had suddenly arrived
from officers in the field, which brought marvellous, almost
incredible news, so that many at first thought it was a preconcerted hoax, till the officers themselves came back, one
by one, and brought the strange story home with all its details. Unlucky Todwitz was the hero of the day, because
he had seen Antonia, with his own eyes, holding the head of
the wounded man in her lap, at the edge of the forest, and
during the hottest of the fight. Wherever he appeared, they
cried, especially the ladies: " Ah! there he is! Dear Baron
Todwitz, is it really all true? Please, please, tell us the




556            The iHouse of Hohenstein.
whole romantic story!" Colonel Hohenstein, also, who had
been the second on the spot, was at first overwhelmed with
questions; but he repelled the curiosity even of very great
ladies, the Countess Hinkel and others, with such cold and
harsh haughtiness, that no one ventured to approach him
again on the subject. Great heavens! It was, after all,
quite natural that he should wish the affair to be forgotten,
and to spare as much as he could the reputation of his
unfortunate sister-in-law, little as there was to be saved. On
the whole, they thought his conduct very noble, although
such generosity was rather new in the colonel, who had of
late spoken very harshly of Antonia. However, there were
many features in this whole affair quite incomprehensible,
and especially Antonia's own demeanor.  Without even
denying her sympathy with Munzer, she still did nothing to
give it form or shape. She made no effort to gain admission
to the prisoner; to the great surprise of everybody, she did
not even sign a petition in which a large number of persons,
from all ranks of society in Cologne, implored the monarch
to pardon Munzer. On the other hand, she resumed her
place in society, as if nothing had happened to make her
shun the world. Some admired her courage, others called
her a heartless coquette, while still others declared her to be
the most perfect actress in the world. She did not seem to
mind what people said or thought. She charmed everybody,
as heretofore, by her beauty and her wit; and after she had
given several brilliant entertainments at her town-house,
there was not a lady, from Countess Hinkel down to the
poorest of noble old maids, who would have denied herself
to Baroness Hohenstein. " She is a little eccentric; that is
all. The Hohensteins always had the privilege of furnishing
subject for gossip."
And the Hohensteins had certainly of late made the very
amplest use of this unenviable privilege.  The general's
imprisonment and trial, the alderman's terrible end, Wolfgang's escape and treasonable participation in the revolution, and now the countless stories which began to circulate
about matters in the president's official mansion. Fearful
scenes were reported to have taken place between Camilla
and her betrothed, Privy Councillor von Snepper. Willamowski's heavenly bliss also was said to have received rude




The House of Hohenstein.          557
shocks since the painter Kettenberg had returned from
Italy, or wherever else he had hidden himself, as reckless
and'mad and as irresistible as ever. Like Antonia Hohenstein he had resumed his old place as maitre de plaisirs in the
highest circles of Cologne society, as if nothing at all had
happened. It was even reported, here and there, that both
engagements, that of Camilla with Snepper, and that of
Aurelia with Willamowski, had been broken off again.
This rumor, however, had as yet received no confirmation; on
the contrary, the invitations had all been sent out. The two
weddings were to be held at the same time at Rheinfeld.
They related almost incredible things as to the brilliant preparations for the double solemnity at the chateau: a dinner for two hundred guests, grand bal at night, and magnificent illumination of the whole park-and that all that
should not take place now, after the cards had been received
more than a week ago, was simply impossible! It was
almost equally impossible that Munzer should not be caught
again. At the mess-table of the ninety-ninth regiment these
two great questions of the day were of course thoroughly
discussed; and the countless wagers offered by crowing voices and accepted by other crowing voices, gave evidence of
the zeal of the parties. Nor was it quite settled yet whether
Antonia Hohenstein would appear on that occasion. Everybody knew that immediately after Munzer's escape had
become known, her home in town, as well as her villa in the
country, had been searched by the police, and that even her
chateau on one of her estates had not escaped. The search
had been fruitless, as far as immediate results were concerned, but it had shown that the authorities had their own
opinion of the secret activity of the beautiful lady. It was,
however, so entirely in keeping with Antonia's character,
first to commit herself and then to defy public opinion,'that
those who betted she would appear at the ball seemed to
have a better chance than their opponents.
-0



558            The House of Hohenslein.
CHAPTER XXIII.
IT was the forenoon of the double celebration. A marvellously beautiful autumn day poured out its full splendor over the rich and varied landscape. In the park
garlands were hung and triumphal arches were erected by
skillful workmen from the city, under Kettenberg's personal
superintendence.  Lanterns of colored paper were strung
on lines to stretch from tree to tree; and on an open space
on the other side of the lake, just opposite the chateau,
a renowned pyrotechnist was making preparations for a
grand display. In the chateau itself there was incessant
running upstairs and downstairs. Although they had been
at work there for a whole week, hardly stopping at night even,
there was still much to be done. Just now news had been
brought that Prince Loben-Reizenstein, who had pro;isionally assumed the chief command of all the troops in the
province, would honor the feast with his presence. He had
requested, to be sure, that this should not be made the cause
for any change in the programme, but "great heavens,"
said the president's wife, "we know very well what that
means from such great personages. Some little allusion,
their cypher in brilliant characters over a triumphal arch at
the fireworks, a special reception, something of the kind
they like, after all. At all events, child, it must not be
known that he comes only for your sake."
Camilla smiled. "For my sake? Why should he come
for my sake?"
"You are not going to play comedy with your own mother,
you little scamp," said the tender mother, caressing almost
with an air of reverence the magnificent brown hair of the
daughter she worshipped. "Do I deserve it that you should
keep your secrets from me?  Do you think I did not see
the prince's stolen glances at you the very first evening on
which he saw you at our house? No, my pet, such things
do not escape me. I delight in your triumphs!" and she
embraced her favorite child most cordially.
"But he told me himself that he was soon to be married,"
said Camilla, disengaging herself from her mother's embrace.




The House of Hohenstein.          559
"Great heavens! Don't you know how that is with such
great personages? They have to marry for state reasons,
but they have a heart, nevertheless, and who will blame them,
if they give it to the most beautiful? Ah, child, I cannot
tell you what I feel at the mere thought. His principality
is a small one, it is true, but your father says his influence
at our court is immense.  Just think: commander-in-chief
at his'age! But influence is the thing, after all. If you
have power over the powerful, you can see them all on their
knees at your feet."
"And Snepper!"
The mother shrugged her shoulders. "He will have to
submit to his fate; he might have foreseen that a better
man might come, when he first presumed to covet your
hand. If he does not resign at once, so much the worse for
him."
"Do you think we can so easily get rid of him again?"
" Fair and clever women always get the better of men,
my child."
"But he has been talking to me already, mamma  "
"Pshaw! of course, he is jealous!  That will soon be
over. The question is only whether his jealousy is greater
than his ambition. And besides, how could he enforce his
claims on you? Why, it is ridiculous!"
"I hate him."
" Do you think I love him? We will master him yet, I
promise you."
"It is a pity, after all, we could not keep Wolfgang," said
the young lady meditatively.
" Child, what are you dreaming of?" cried the mother.
"I do not recognize my own child in you! How can you
waste a thought on such a vagabond, a good-for-nothing?
Don't you know he is strongly suspected of having helped
Munzer to escape? The man has become a regular footpad;
but then he is his father's son! Now I must go and look
after Aurelia. I dare say she has nothing ready yet; there
is no saying how much anxiety that girl gives me! "
In the meantime Miss Aurelia, still in her neglige, had gone
down into the park to bring Kettenberg herself the news of
the prince's expected arrival, instead of sending a servant
to him, as her mother had asked her to do. She had seen




560            The House of Hohenstein.
Kettenberg during the three days he had spent at Rheinfeld
only in passing, and she rather liked to have an opportunity
of talking with him once more freely before her wedding.
Kettenberg was standing in his shirt-sleeves on a ladder,
drawing with a piece of chalk a cypher on a triumphant
arch, which was afterwards to be filled up with colored
lamps, when Aurelia came up.
" Well, you are just in time," exclaimed the painter; "five
minutes more and your own sweet name would have blazed
forth here. Any other commands?"
" Mamma would like the pyrotechnist to provide something special for the prince! "
"I'll speak to the noble artist. Anything else?"
t No! "
Miss Aurelia did not seem to be pressed for time. Instead of returning to the chateau, she sat down on a couple
of poles to be used as flagstaffs, and watched Kettenberg, as he
added ornament to ornament, and finally drew a gigantic
crown on top with a few bold strokes.
"There," said Kettenberg, " that'll do!"  He came down
from his ladder, put on his coat, and looked up at his drawing.
" Not so bad, Miss Aurelia! Don't you think so?"
"Admirable! " replied Aurelia.
" But you did not even look! "
" My opinion can be nothing to you now! "
"Are we a little sentimental to-day?"
" That would be Love's Labor Lost with you!"
" Ah indeed? Well, you are right. But why do you say
it in such a tragic tone? "
"Because you are faithless! you are a traitor!"
"That's divine! I thought it was you who was going to
be married to-day! "
"And why am I?"
"Ah, if you don't know, I don't! "
" You know perfectly well."
"'Pon honor! "
"Don't tell a fib! "
"Aurelia! "
" Did you not paint Antonia's portrait in life-size?"
" I have painted yours also life-size, and twice! "




The House of Hohenstein.           56I
" But you did not go to Italy with me."
" You were engaged to the baron."
"Nevertheless! I knew you would run away with her."
" Well, if that is not too good! You knew I would run
away with her? Did you know, too, that my liaison dangereuse would last exactly two hours?"
" Don't you love her still? "
" Upon my word and honor-no!"
" But you have been at her house almost every day."
" I have been here three days in succession, and have been
working like a slave to make your wedding as brilliant as I
can."
" Bad enough, that you are not ashamed to work for my
wetlding."
"You are mad, Aurelia."
"I did not deserve that!"
During this discussion they had entered an avenue in
which they could no longer be seen from the place where
the laborers were at work. Aurelia threw herself on a bench
and began to sob and to cry in her passionate manner.
"But, Aurelia!"
" Leave me!"
" Great God! I     "
" Be silent! I hate you. I won't hear another word from
you."
The young lady started up again, and walked rapidly farther up the avenue. Kettenberg followed her, trying in vain
to stop her tears. Thus they got farther and farther into
the park, and at last they came to a place where tall, untrimmed hedges of evergreens surrounded a circular stonebasin, which had long ceased to hold water, while old,
weather-beaten statues of sandstone looked with Farm-like
smiles down upon mossy banks, that were crumbling to
pieces.
" Leave me alone!" said Aurelia, stamping her foot.
"In this state of excitement? No!" said Kettenberg.
"Aurelia, dearest girl! we have often enough told each
other that you would have to marry somebody else, sooner
or later. We have often enough laughed at it, and joked
about it; and now, when the inevitable thing has come to
pass, you want to hate me! Pray, dearest, tell me that you
24*




562            The House of Hohenstein.
will not hate me; because, poor fellow, I am nothing but a
poor painter?"
There was a world of feeling in the tone in which the
reckless young man uttered these words. His face, always
very pale, had become still paler; his eyes burnt with an
unnatural fire. Aurelia compared in her mind this marvellously gifted man, who had always appeared to her incomparably handsome, with the elegant, good-natured, weakminded dandy whom she was to call her husband in a few
hours, and threw herself weeping and sobbing on Kettenberg's bosom.
" Aurelia! darling!" whispered Kettenberg, tenderly.
"I am yours, forever yours, if you will be mine!"
" Yours forever! forever!" sobbed Aurelia.
The chateau, splendidly illuminated, was as full and as
busy as a beehive.  From the tall, open windows of the
great ball-room, the music of waltzes and polkas was heard;
the park was full of country people, who had come to stare
at the illumination long after the great people had become
tired of it; the countless lamps of gay colors which were
hanging in bold garlands from tree to tree; the enormous
arches with their bright inscriptions, and huge banners floating lazily in the evening breeze; and whenever the pyrotechnist sent off another bunch of rockets, there was no end of joyous Ah's and Oh's. In the court-yard fiery horses champed
the bit and pawed the ground; among the superb carriages
that of the great prince excited special admiration; they
had never seen such a high coachman's box, nor servants in
such absolutely gorgeous liveries. When the flames in the
huge candelabra before the front-door blazed up brighter
than usually, it looked as if the whole court-yard was in a
blaze.
The old general, who had been present during the whole
feast, in spite of his infirmity, which excited universal sympathy, had asked the prince's permission to withdraw to his
rooms for the rest of the evening. His highness had insisted upon taking the "venerable veteran's " arm, and accompanying him to the door of the ball-room, where the two
had parted, after the prince had once'more assured his host
of his own high regard, and of the special favor of the mon



The House of Hohenstein.          563
arch, which he had been directed to convey to the general.
The latter had then tottered, leaning on his valet, down the
staircase, through the long passage, to his bed-room; he
had laid aside his uniform and put on his velvet dressinggown, exchanged the loose boots for still easier fur slippers,
and was now sitting, completely exhausted, in his arm-chair
before the fire-place, in which a bright fire was burning in
spite of the warm evening.
The last year had changed the general from an old man,
who was still stately in spite of his excessive leanness, into
a mummy. His eagle face looked like a death's head. His
hands bore the shape of bird's claws, and he himself was
but a shadow of the old tyrant who only a short year ago
still used to beat his servants, or to throw whatever fell into
his hands at their heads. But there were still flashes of
lightning in his black eyes; not the old Berserber rage, but
the malignant wickedness of an evil soul, which is fully conscious of its inability to inflict harm, and yet would like to
annihilate with a look the enemy it can no longer tear to
pieces with the hands.
The old man sat there, nodding and blinking with his eyes,
and neighing a strange kind of laugh, and nodding again
half asleep, when he suddenly called to his valet, who was
busy at the bed in another part of the room, saying to him
with repulsive friendliness:
Jean, dear Jean "
The man came and placed himself on the left side of the
arm-chair, for the old gentleman had now for some time
been unable to turn his head to the right.
"Yes, your excellency."
" How much did you say the president gives you for reporting to him faithfully everything that happens at the chateau here?"
" I have told your excellency I don't know how often,"
said Jean, very roughly-the same man who had once been
in Antonia's service, and whom the president had strongly
recommended to the old general.
"Tell me again, dear Jean!"
"Fifty dollars!"
"Very good. And how much do you get from Dr. Snepper for telling him everything that happens here?"




564            The House of Hohenstein.
"Fifty dollars!"
"Very good. And how much do I give you to tell them
nothing but lies?"
"A hundred dollars!"
" And for that you tell us lies all around; very good, very
good," and the mummy neighed and coughed and blinked
his red eyelids and nodded; then he said:
" Jean, dear Jean!"
"I am here! "
"Ah, Jean, where is the lawyer who has written the
marriage contracts for the young people?"
" He is writing upstairs."
" Do you know what he is writing, Jean?"
" What is that to me?"
" He makes a new will for me, Jean; you are mentioned
in it, Jean; you are to have five hundred dollars if you treat
me well till I die."
"I don't believe it."
" You shall read it; you shall sign your name to it."
There was a strange stir in the gray face of the valet with
the fox eyes; he cast a restless glance at the windows,
through which the night looked black into the room, and
then he looked at the mummy which was nodding and blinking before him. Then he looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, which pointed at half-past ten.  His restlessness
seemed to increase; he paced the room; there had been a
knock at the door twice, and the old general had cried,
Jean, Jean! before he went and opened.
It was the priest Ambrosius, who came, in his quick way,
close up to the general, struck the ground with his heavy
cane, and said in a rough voice, " Here I am! "
" Ah! " said the mummy, raising the head slightly by a great
effort, "it is dear Mr. Ambrosius. Leave us, Jean, and
when I ring go up to the lawyer and tell him to come down.
He'll be ready by that time."
Jean left the room with a savage glance at the priest
Ambrosius, who drew a chair to the old man's side near the
fire, and said:
"What do you want of me to-day?   And why do you
always send at such inconvenient hours?  If I had not
just come home from a dying man in the village, the devil




The House of Hohenstein.         565
might have come to see you, but not I. What do you
want?"
Ambrosius rubbed his hands before the fire and continued
angrily:
"I have not much time. My poor niece is in a terrible state of excitement since Munzer has escaped. I do
not like to be away from home longer than is necessary.
What is it?"
"Dear Ambrosius," said the old man, "I want to become
a Catholic."
Ambrosius jumped up from his chair.
"The devil!" he said; "are we to have the old story
over again? Look here, sir, I am tired of your tomfoolery. I tell you once more, and for the last time, that I
do not want to hear any more such nonsense. Whenever
your bad conscience awakes, you want to turn Catholic.
When you were in jail, you wanted to do so; the archbishop
himself wrote letter after letter about you, and when they let
you out again you laughed in your sleeve at him. It is not
my fault they did not hang you. I must tell you frankly
now, it was I who wrote that anonymous letter to the public
prosecutor; for that poor fellow, Balthasar, had told me long
ago where the man was buried. I wrote the letter because
I am convinced you murdered the man-yes, you may look
daggers at me; I don't mind it. You did kill the man; that
old vampire, Bridget, may have helped you, but you are the
murderer. Now you know my opinion."
The mummy trembled with rage and anguish.
" And if I had killed him, what can they do to me? They
have acquitted me. No man can be tried twice for the same
crime."
" Well then, be quiet! If you have nothing to fear from
men, you are not afraid of the devil, I think."
"Yes," replied the mummy " yes, priest, I am afraid; not
now, but in the night. I have such bad dreams at night. I
see such horrid faces when I lie awake in my bed. And
that is why I want to become a Catholic, priest. I will pay
for it; I have made a new will; I have thought of you,
priest; you'll have a thousand dollars; and Castle Rheinfeld is to be a Catholic Orphan Asylum for the whole province; the revenues from the estate to go to the asylum;




566            The House of Hohensfein.
worth three hundred thousand dollars, priest-three hundred
thousand dollars!"
"Nonsense," said Ambrosius.
"By God! it is true, priest.  The lawyer is sitting
upstairs and writing it down. I have taken back the will
that Snepper dictated to me. These rascals wanted to have
everything; I had to promise it all to that witch, Camilla.
Now I am going to found a Catholic Orphan Asylum, and
the ready money they may divide among themselves-some
two hundred thousand dollars-is not that fair, priest? "
Ambrosius had listened attentively, his head bent on one
side. If things were really so, he had no right to refuse.
He had always done what he could to obtain some provision
for the orphans, and this was perhaps the one question that
was nearest and dearest to his heart. If the relations had
so large a sum for themselves-that was enough and more
than enough for them all.
" Is that really so?"
"By God! by God! " stammered the old man.
" Send for the lawyer! I must see the will."
The old gentleman pulled the bell-rope that hung near his
chair from the ceiling. A few moments later Jean showed
the lawyer in.
Is everything ready?"
The lawyer bowed and took his seat at a small table near
the fire.
" Read!" said the general, "and Jean can stay as witness."
The lawyer read the will, which he had framed according to
the direction of the old gentleman. It was all as the latter
had stated.
"Is that right and valid in law now?" asked the old
man.
" There is nothing wanting but your excellency's signature
and that of the two witnesses."
"Stop! " said Ambrosius; "I want to take nothing. Distribute the thousand dollars among the other servants. I
do not see why this gentleman in the white cravat is to have
so much more than all the rest."
Jean, the valet, grinned and said: "Yes indeed, your
reverence."




:The House of Hohenstein.        567
As Ambrosius insisted upon having his way, the lawyer
had to make the necessary alteration. The document was
duly signed.  The lawyer rose, saying he must return to
town on account of important business that was waiting for
him. He promised to keep the will and to deposit it next
day in court. Ambrosius, quite astonished at the turn which
affairs had suddenly taken with the old general, was about to
follow the lawyer, when the general recalled him.
"Priest, one word! Surely, priest, you are going to make
me a Catholic now, and come every day to see me. You
are the only man in whom I feel any confidence. You
consider me a wicked old sinner, I know, but still you are
a good man and will take care of me.  They up there,"
and the old man pointed with the finger at the ceiling" they would poison me if they could. And that is why I
have disinherited them; that is all right and fair, is it not,
priest?"
"We'll talk that over," replied Ambrosius. "You are an
odd creature, in whom I cannot help feeling interested,
although you are a wicked old sinner, as you say. I'll call
in to-morrow morning. Good-by! "
"Good-by, priest! good-by! good-by!"
Jean, the valet, had accompanied the priest through the
general's sitting-room and the garden-room, which was tonight brilliantly lighted up, and richly decorated with greenhouse plants; the doors were wide open, and surrounded
with curious people from the country. The priest followed
the well-known path through the park. Jean mingled with
the assembled crowd; and while he seemed merely to amuse
himself with the sight, he managed to get alongside of a
man who had drawn his hat low down over his face, and a
woman with a green veil hanging over an ill-shaped bonnet.
He whispered a few words to them as he passed them.
They went a little aside and disappeared behind the thick
shrubbery near the terrace, close to the part of the chateau
in which the general lived and where the grounds had been
fenced off to keep them private. The valet followed them.
"How is it? " said the man in the slouched hat. " Is he
alone now?"
"Yes. Nobody is going to come now. But he is not in
bed yet."




568            The House of Hohenstein.
"Pshaw! It is high time. The people are beginning to
go away.; they will notice us if we stay much longer."
"Look here, Kilian," said Jean, "suppose we leave it
alone? The old man cannot live much longer, and we have
it all the easier then!"
"Yes, you; but we!" said *the woman, breaking her
silence. "Kilian has to go, you know very well, and then
you think you can do with me what you choose. But we'll
teach you to play us tricks, you miserable hair-dresser
you!"
And Bridget drew back her green veil and threatened the
man with the white cravat, holding her bony hand right
under his nose.
"Well, as you like it," said Jean, angrily; "it is true he
has left me five hundred dollars in his will."
Bridget laughed. "Are you mad?" she asked. "Five
hundred dollars! and the old man has a hundred thousand
in his bureau. Are you going to do it or not? You'll never
find the key as long as you live, if I don't show you where
it is.'
"You ought to listen to reason," said Jean; "I am
ready! But you remember our agreement! You do it, and
I alarm the house, or else they'll all suspect me at once!"
"Yes, yes!" growled Kilian.
" I have left the window-shutter open," said Jean; "he'll
want me to close it when I put him to bed, then I'll open
the window, as if I could not close the shutters. You must
be ready then with the ladder."
"All right," said Kilian; "make haste now and go to
your post!"
When Ambrosius had left the old general, he had remained sitting for some time, nodding, blinking, and laughing
hoarsely; then he rose, limped to the door of his sittingroom, which he locked; then to a dark corner of his chamber, where he took a small key from an ordinary little box.
With the key he limped back to an iron safe standing close
by his bed, opened. it, and took out a strong-box, which he
placed on the little table before the fireplace. The effort
had exhausted his strength; he sat there, bent double, gasping for breath. When he had recovered his breath, he
pressed a spring in the strong-box and took out the papers




The House of Hohenstein.         569
which lay inside, carefully piled one upon another. They
were mortgages, government securities, notes, papers of
every kind and value. His wrinkled discolored hands trembled, as he held them, one by one, close up to the light of
the lamp, examining them through his spectacles. Whenever
he had done with one, he threw the paper on the glowing
coals and burning wood in the fireplace; and whenever the
flame blazed up brightly, he laughed under his breath and
murmured: " The ready money you may divide among yourselves. So it reads in my will; now you may look for it in
the ashes! A thousand less, a thousand blows at your
heart, you accursed brood-two thousand, you shall have
nothing-three thousand, yes, dance away and fiddle away
over my head; you won't dance much after this-four, five,
six thousand, what a feast it would be for that brood!" Thus
he went on, laughing and murmuring and coughing, till the
box was empty. He leaned back in his chair, laughing and
murmuring and coughing-stared into the glowing embers,
on which a layer of light black ashes was rising and sinking
at intervals, nodded again, nodded lower and lower and
dreamed. Jean was coming to the false door in the alcove;
he entered and crept cautiously on the soft carpet towards
the window, which he opened very, very carefully; through
the open window the cool night-air was blowing in, colder,
colder; and between the glow in the fireplace and his face
there rose slowly Kilian's face, staring at him with hungry
eyes.
With a cry of anguish the old man started up from his
lethargy. He had not dreamt of Kilian's face; it was there
a few inches before him, and Kilian's hands were seizing
his throat. He pulled at the bell-rope with the strength of
despair.
"Cut the bell-rope, Jean!" cried Kilian, throwing himself upon the old man.
"Why did you not cut the bell-rope, stupid?"
"It was too late!"
"Cursed! "
"Make haste there!" said Bridget's voice from the window.
"The safe is opened; there is nothing in it," whispered
Jean, trembling in all his limbs.




570            The House of Hohenstein.
"You have robbed him first, blackguard."
" Make haste there! "
"Where must we look next?"
"There are people coming down the passage! " groaned
Jean, who was listening at the false door.
Kilian also listened. There was no doubt; the fearful
ringing of the bell must have been heard; they came to see
what was the matter.  The man uttered a fearful curse,
rushed to the window and leapt out. Jean, finding himself
alone with the dead man, and hearing the people quite near
the door, could not find the key, which he had dropped in
the first fight, and followed the murderer. They knocked,
they called, they knocked again. One more resolute than
the rest broke open the door; there lay his excellency in
the arm-chair before the fireplace-strangled! The bony
hand still held the bell-rope. The iron safe was open, the
empty strong-box on the table, the open window with a
ladder against it-murder! murder! they were screaming
down the passages, up the broad staircase into the brilliantlylighted rooms, in which the wedding guests were revelling
and dancing and feasting, while trumpets sounded and hautboys played, and all was merriment and joy.
Those who had wagered that Antonia Baroness Hohenstein would appear at the great feast at Castle Rheinfeld, in
spite of all the rumors that connected her name with Munzer, and in spite of all police surveillance, had won their bet.
Antonia had come about eight o'clock, sending back her carriage to town-an evidence that the baroness was determined
to take up the gauntlet which society might possibly throw
down at her'feet. But even if a part of the company should
have been against her, which was not very probable, the surpassing beauty of the fair sinner defied all evil intentions on
the part of severe judges. Antonia had not been fifteen
minutes in the ball-room when she found herself surrounded
by admirers, as in her most brilliant days. And it seemed,
indeed, almost impossible not to bow down before such transcendant beauty. Even Camilla's most enthusiastic admirers had to admit that the young lady could not rival the fair
widow in point of figure or beauty of feature, neither in
grace of movement nor in power of conversation-qualities




The House of Hoheastein.         571
in all of which Antonia's mastery was universally admitted.
Even his highness, who had so far been almost exclusively
occupied with Camilla, begged that the Baroness Hohenstein
might be presented to him. He had never seen her before,
and now he turned to his first adjutant, saying, " Thoroughbred,'pon honor, thorough-bred! " and the witty words made
the round of the whole company in a few minutes. The fair
lady seemed, however, to make a special effort to-night to
celebrate a complete triumph. She was all ablaze with diamonds and amiability-and this amiability harmonized so
strangely with the pale face and the black flaming eyes!
" If I had to paint a Sphinx or a Medusa, you should be my
model! " whispered Kettenberg, as he bent over the back
of her chair.
" Ah! Here you are!" exclaimed Antonia. "I wanted
to make you my compliment on your arrangements. All the
world is full of your praise."
She rose and stepped into a bay-window, apparently engaged in a general conversation with the painter.
"To-day!"
"When?"
"At ten! "
"All is ready?"
"Yes, and here!"
"Excellent! I tell you I am playing my part charmingly!
More madly than ever, I tell you. You need not fear, baroness, that they will- suspect us. These good people here
have too much to do with themselves. I tell you, there are
things going on here  "
" Hush! We are observed. You had better leave me!"
The painter made a few bold gestures with his right
hand, laughed aloud, bowed and went away.
Colonel Hohenstein happened to pass by near the place
where Antonia was standing, and said, as he came close up to
her: "War or peace? "
Antonia made no reply; her eyes flashed lightnings of
deadly hatred; she put her hand on her heart and then let
it drop slowly.
" Pshaw! " said the colonel; "you ought to be reasonable and make peace; he is gone now, or pretty safely concealed; what more do you want?"




572            The House of Hohenstein.
Antonia did not reply nor stir. The colonel shrugged
his shoulders and went on. He would have given much if
Antonia had shown a trace of forgiveness. What was she
meditating? The colonel was a brave man, but there was
something unnatural in Antonia's manner. He had made
repeated attempts to approach her; she had invariably
repelled him as to-day. He had resolved to forget the beautiful woman and the wrong he had done her; but he could
not. She drew his thoughts to her as if by magic power;
he did not know whether he loved Antonia, or whether he
hated her; now he could have killed her in cold blood, and
then he would have thrown himself at her feet, kissing the
dust on her path. He had not known a quiet moment
since the day of Munzer's trial; he felt as if that evil hour
had poisoned his blood. As soon as he closed his eyes, he
saw her beautiful face disfigured by wrath, shame, hatred,
and thirst of revenge. The cold, insolent libertine, who
had never had the slightest pity for his victims, fell under
the ban of superstitious fear, which he tried in vain to
master by reasoning, or to drown in dissipation.
Antonia had remained a few moments in the window, looking after the colonel with the glance of a basilisk. "He or
I," she murmured, "or both of us."
The hour of revenge had come; it was to be accomplished as soon as Munzer was free and once more in the arms
of his wife. She had sworn so to herself with a thousand
oaths. She hardly thought of herself,.whether she would
perish in the attempt; and if she thought of it, it was with
perfect indifference. What was life to her? To live under
the burden of a fearful memory which could not be borne
without changing her into a fury! " He or I, or both of
us! " That was the one air she was ever repeating to herself by day and by night; and as she hummed it, she
grasped the sharp dagger which she had worn in her bosom
since that day. She knew the colonel would die, even if
her own plan of revenge should miscarry. Cajus had told
her, with his dark smile, that he had an old account to settle
with the colonel; and her only fear now was, that Cajus
might anticipate her, and cheat her out of the delight of
avenging herself. She was almost angry with herself, that
she had not been able to pretend to be reconciled to her




The House of Hohenstein.         573
enemy. That ought to have been the first step towards her
end! She had not thought the first step would be so hard;
but whenever she saw the man, she felt as if insanity was
coming upon her. She pressed her hands on her burning
temples; and then making a great effort, she went to meet
Todwitz, who was looking in despair for his partner. She
had promised him a cotillon, and now the music had begun;
the couples were all standing ready; he had been so happy
and, proud in his good-fortune; and his delight at having
found Antonia at last was unbounded.
This cotillon, which was to be the last before supper,
united all the beauties of the evening. Camilla, led by her
husband, seemed to be amply consoled for such a misfortune
by the circumstance that the prince was her vis-d-vis. She
floated up to the prince with a most gracious smile, and
evidently had no ear for her husband's words. The privy
councillor was beside himself. The contempt with which
his young wife treated him was so evident, that he felt grateful
if people did not laugh outright in his face. His heart overflowed with jealously and malice; he hated this young creature, whose beauty he had thought the goal of all his earthly
wishes, and who now made him ridiculous before the whole
world.
" We must leave after this dance, Camilla," he whispered.
"What?"
"We leave after this dance, at once."
"Nonsense! The prince told me he would sit by me at
supper. "
" Cavaliers seuls /"
The prince came forward, gracefully balancing himself,
with an affectedly careless step, and looking steadily at Camilla with love-sick eyes. Snepper bit his lip with rage. "By
my soul's salvation! " he murmured, "we shall leave after
this dance if I have to drag you by your hair to the carriage! "
Camilla turned pale; her quick wit told her that Snepper's patience had reached the line, that he would carry his
point to-day, and that their married life must henceforth be
a battle royal.
" You shall repent this! " she whispered.
"We'll see who holds out longest!" replied Snepper,
showing his teeth like a malicious ape.




574            The House of  oahenstein.
During the same time Willamowski was dancing an evil
dance. Miss Hinkel was his partner. Georgianna had had
a slight affair with Kettenberg before she became engaged
to Brinkman; how much there was really in it, the world
never knew; it suspected all the more. She knew perfectly
well that Kettenberg worshipped at many altars, as she herself was a well-known coquette, and this extraordinary couple
had the strange habit of exchanging confidences as to their
respective flirtations. Thus Georgianna was perfectly aware
of Aurelia's attachment to Kettenberg, especially as Aurelia
herself possessed the virtue of discretion in a most modest
degree. Georgianna was by no means pleased to hear of
Aurelia's good luck in winning the rich baron; she knew
that but for Aurelia she herself might have been Baroness
Willamowski at any time, and on that account she conceived
for her rival a hatred which was all the more intense as it
was carefully concealed under the mask of warm friendship.
But to hate and to do the greatest possible injury to the
hated person, was one and the same thing to Georgianna;
thus she had spent all her time in poisoning Willamowski's
good-natured heart drop by drop with the bitterest jealousy.
She had had ample opportunity for it to-night. Kettenberg
had been more imprudent than usual in his desire to appear
perfectly free from all pre-occupation, and Aurelia also had
set aside every consideration under the influence of the scene
in the morning.
"Just look how she continually follows him with her
eyes," said Georgianna. " You'll have to call him out, Willamowski; you surely ought to do so "
"Oh, heavens! and I love her so dearly! " sighed the poor
baron, from the bottom of his heart.
" All the more it is your duty," whispered Georgianna.
" And that on my wedding-day!"
The young lady smiled ironically. "Kettenberg has been
here three days. That was rather imprudent in you, dear
Willamowski. You ought to have foreseen —"
The poor, tortured man groaned aloud. "Pardon me,"
he said; "but I must withdraw; everything swims before
my eyes."
He tottered from his place amid the dancers towards a
divan, and this created some excitement in that part of'the




The House of Hohenstein.         575
ball-room. "He is fainting-the great heat-where is the
bride?"
Aurelia came hastening up; the baron broke out in tears,
as she bent over him.
"Are you mad, Stillfried.?" she whispered, very much
frightened. "For heaven's sake! Anything, only not a
scene! "
Many of the guests had been crowding around the two,
partly from curiosity, and partly enjoying the evident trouble
with much satisfaction, when suddenly a new sight presented
itself to their astonished eyes.
From one of the adjoining rooms, where a number of
younger officers had been emptying bottle after bottle ever
since the beginning of the ball, Cuno came forth, almost
dead drunk, with open uniform, stammering and staring,
while his brother Odo, only less drunk than Cuno, followed
him, trying to keep him back.
"Let me, in three devils' name," cried Cuno. "I want
to kiss my pretty cousin. I will, and if that wretched puppy
Snepper, or-or-the pri-prince — "
Several officers who were standing around hurried up to
the drunken man to try and remove him; but Cuno tore himself away, and staggered forward, right into the midst of the
group in which Camilla stood, pale and gloomy, by her husband's side, not daring to raise her eyes to the prince.
The prince saw the drunken officer fall, and quickly left
the dance. Everything was broken up; some rushed away,
others came crowding up; and suddenly, near the main
entrance to the ball-room, the cry was raised: Murder! murder!-Who?-What?-I don't know!-The old general?Impossible-horrible! Thus they cried and whispered, and
ran all in an instant, so that the great crowd rolled in a compact mass towards the door. Women fainted-the confusion
had reached the highest point-the trumpets sounded and
the hautboys played, and then of a sudden the music
stopped, and breathless silence added to the horror.
In the meantime Antonia's impatience had driven her out
of the hot room into the cooler passages.  The hour had
come when Cajus and Ruchel, in their carriage, were to take
the fugitive from the Witches' Tower, and the minutes seemed
to her eternities. Just then the cry of murder comes yelling




576            The House of Hohenstein.
up the staircase. A sad presentiment tells her that this incident may become fatal to Munzer's flight. Her anticipations are but too true. She has no sooner run down, following the crying women and the excited men in their rush to
the lower apartments, and reached the door of the murdered
man's room, when she hears the words: I saw them rundown to the village-let us hunt them down!
Her resolution is formed in an instant-if the inspiration
of the moment which acts with the force of instinct, can be
called a resolution. She hurries down the long passage to
the garden-room, and from the garden-room, through the
anxious, curious crowd of country people, into the park. She
knows the locality perfectly, from her former visits here; she
knows that at the foot of the park a gate in the enclosure
leads to a footpath, by which she can in a few minutes reach
the place where the carriage is to wait. Anxiety gives wings
to her steps; but she is so pre-occupied with the one thought,
that she does not hear how some one follows her, closely
but cautiously, keeping near the hedges or behind the trees,
but always at the same near distance from her, impelled as
he is by the demon of jealousy, and a blind, magic force,
which binds him to the heels of the beautiful woman. She
reaches the gate; she hurries down the narrow tow-path,
under the chestnut-trees alongside the canal, in which the
water makes a low, gurgling noise. She runs faster and
faster, for she can see the Carriage now. Suddenly, as she
has almost reached the last of the trees, a form starts forth
as if it were a part of the deep shade itself, in which all is
wrapt here. It is Munzer himself, who has seen her white
dress shining from afar, and has hurried to meet her, while
the others are busy about the carriage, which has been
slightly injured by the bad road. She throws herself on his
bosom, trembling with excitement; she wants to cry, Flee!
but her voice will not come at her bidding; she can do nothing but thrust him from her. He bids her farewell in
words which she scarcely hears; he swears he will obey her
wishes, but that no power on earth or in heaven can prevent
him-from loving her. She thrusts him from her with increasing anguish, and at last she can draw a deep breath, and
stammer: "Flee, Bernhard, flee! "
At this moment the man who has followed her from the




The hIouse of Hohenstein.        577
chAteau leapt forward from behind the trees, and ran Munzer
through with his sword. Munzer fell without uttering a
sound. Antonia recognized the colonel. With the swiftness
of thought she drew the dagger which she had concealed in
her bosom, and aimed it at the heart of her enemy, who
staggered back wounded, but not killed. He uttered a
fierce curse and turned towards her, raising the hilt of his
sword-the blade had snapped off in the body of his victim
-to strike her.
But before the arm of the madman came down, two hands
seized him with irresistible power, tore him with one terrible jerk down to the ground and dragged him swiftly to the
canal.
Antonia had thrown herself upon Munzer's body; she
saw and heard nothing of the horror that took place almost
immediately near her; she saw nothing but the face of the
man she had loved as she had loved no other, which is now
covered with deadly pallor; she heard nothing but -his low
breathing, which gradually ceased to be audible.
Wolfgang, who had come up close behind Cajus, tried to
raise Munzer; a torrent of blood poured forth from his
mouth; his head sank feebly on one side; but he raised
himself with a last effort, and stammered: " To her; carry
me to her!"
Cajus came back and told Wolfgang to raise the upper
part of Munzer's body. Cajus's voice sounded a trifle rougher
and hoarser than before, but he showed no other change;
nor could it be seen whether it is water or blood which he
wipes from his hand with his handkerchief. They lifted the
dying man into the carriage; Antonia and Wolfgang took
their seats by him; Cajus jumped on the box by Ruchel,
seized the reins, and whipped the horses. The carriage
rolled down the rocky slope, then across the fields at full
gallop, in a circuit around the village, and at last upon the
turnpike near the river, at full speed to Rheineck, past
Rheineck to Churchtown, there to the parsonage, the gate
of which was open, and closed immediately behind them,
Ambrosius himself standing watch to receive them.
Clara rushed up to the carriage, but Wolfgang anticipated
her; he told her what could not be concealed. Clara uttered a dull, low cry, and staggered back. Then she recov25




578            Thue House of Hohenstein.
ered herself, and seized the hand of her husband, whom the
men lifted out of the carriage to carry him into the house
and to lay him in the priest's study, upon his lounge. She
sank on her knees beside him, and looked with tearless eyes
at the pale face. He raised once more the weary eyelids
and tried to smile, but his smile froze on his features;
Clara saw it; a heart-rending cry burst from her suffering
bosom; she sank almost fainting on the breast of the departed.  Antonia stood immovable at the head of the
lounge, her face horribly disfigured with grief. When Wolfgang turned to her with pity in his eyes, she looked at him
with vacant, fixed eyes, and murmured, "I meant to do my
best."
Cajus, who had gone out, came back now and touched
Wolfgang and Ruchel on the shoulder.
" I heard the signal; the steamer will be here in ten minutes. It takes us ten minutes to reach the landing-place.
Make haste, you can be of no use here!"
— 0 —CONCLUSION.
IT was the second summer after these events, on a hot July
evening, when three men were examining the progress
made during the preceding week in an enormous edifice
which was to crown the top of a hill at one of the most beautiful points in Switzerland. The oldest of the men-perhaps fifty years old, but hearty-looking, and with a fine, intelligent face-had drawn his arm familiarly through that of his
younger companion, and listened with many a yes and ah
to the explanations which the latter gave him about the condition of the building; while the third, a tall, black-eyed,
curly-headed man, who had papers and drawings under his
arm, and looked as if he might be the superintendent, walked
alongside, accepting the commendations -he received from
the older gentleman as something that was due to him.
"Very good, very good! " said the old gentleman; "you
are famous fellows, I am sure. We shall be under roof




The House of Hohenstein.         579
before winter at that rate. That surpasses all my expectations-very good, very good!"
"If you have no objection, gentlemen," said the man
with the drawings, "I should like to go back to the office.
I have not settled all the accounts with the masons yet."
"Very good! " said the older man, while his companion
nodded kindly with his head.
The man with the drawings touched his cap with a soldier's
salute, turned on his heels, and jumped lightly and safely
down the rather high terraces which had been cut in this
side of the hill.
"An excellent man, this Ruchel!" said the old gentleman;
"like him very much; active, intelligent, trustworthy-capital fellow! Of course you need no such men at home, eh?"
"That sounds almost like a personal reproach," said the
other, smiling.
" Personal? Not for you, dear Wolfgang, certainly not!
They seem to have no need for you either, at home, fortunately for me. What should I do without you?"
" You did pretty well without me before!"
"I had to.  Because I found nobody who could enter
upon my ideas and help me. Certainly, it was time I found
you; the thing was growing up too large for me. As long
as we are young, we all fancy we can do very well alone;
but as we grow older, we find out that our strength is after
all very small, and that we can only hope to succeed in great
enterprises by co-operating with others. Thus I have been
infinitely benefited by my connection with your uncle. He
has a genius for political economy; his system of savings
banks and co-operative stores, as he explained it to me today at dinner, is admirable. Upon the broad shoulders of
that man, I believe there rests a part of the future of Germany-of Europe-of the whole world. I count it as one of
the luckiest incidents of my life that I have been able to
assist such a man with the one thing he' needed-capital.
And you see how our factories have improved since he has
become our agent for Germany. We shall have a nice balance at the end of the year."
Mr. Degenfeld joyfully rubbed his hands and looked up
at the high scaffolding, on which the men were still busily at
work.




580            The House of Hohenstern.
"How that grows!" he said. "And how I long to see it
next year! They will come from all parts of the world.
That Kurshaus is to become a famous house all over the
world. Where on earth is there another such place, which
unites everything that can re-invigorate a ruined constitution:
the mildest climate, the purest air, and a view such as would
make the worst hypochondriac believe that the world is a
beautiful world after all. A man who cannot be cured
here, cannot be cured anywhere; don't you think so, Wolfgang?"
The young man had not heard the last words of his paternal friend. A small group of two ladies and two gentlemen,
who were coming up a newly-finished path, had attracted
and monopolized his attention.
"There they are coming!" he said, involuntarily advancing a few steps in that direction, and then turning quickly
again to Mr. Degenfeld, as if he were ashamed of his impatience.
"Ah " said the latter, smiling, "still the lover, although
the baby is crying at home in its cradle! Very good! But
are our guests really going to leave us to-morrow? Why
don't you persuade them to stay, Wolfgang?"
" I have used all my powers of persuasion, but you know
how inflexible my uncle is in what he considers his duty."
In the meantime the four persons had come up; first
Peter Schmitz leading Ottilia, and behind them  Doctor
Holm, who had assisted Aunt Bella. Ottilia withdrew her
arm, and came hastily up to her husband: " Hedda is fast
asleep," she whispered, winding her arms around his neck,
" and she has such red little cheeks! she looks like a little
angel!"
Peter Schmitz had joined Mr. Degenfeld. Doctor Holm,
wiping the perspiration from his bald forehead, looked inquiringly up at the lofty edifice, the colossal proportions of
which appeared to great advantage on this side, and said,
turning to Aunt Bella: "Very-orum good-orum!"  Aunt
Bella made no reply. Her tearful eyes hung on Wolfgang
and Ottilia, who were walking arm in arm towards the forest,
whispering eagerly to each other.
" I shall never see them again! " said Aunt Bella.
Doctor Holm shook his head.




The House of Hohenstein.        58I
"Stay here, Aunt Bella," he said, "you cannot endure it
with us; your longing after the little creature which you have
been dandling for two months every day by the hour upon
your knees, and which has to-day become your god-child
besides, will leave you no rest. Stay here! "
"Never! " said Aunt Bella, very peremptorily. "Ottilia
no longer has any need of me, and glad as she would be if
I stayed, a third person is always the fifth wheel on a wagon
to a young married couple. And if I remained here without
having anything to do, and had to think of you and Peter
sitting there alone at the big table in the old room at home,
with nobody to help you to your dinner; and especially
Peter, who never knows what he is eating, if everything is
not cut nice and appetizing for him, and the soup was too
much salted, a thing you cannot bear, Holm-and then at
night when you come home from your work-no, Holm, no
-never! " and the good soul broke out in tears.
" Courage then, Aunt Bella! " said Holm. " No one can
serve two masters. And besides, you are perfectly right;
your place is with us. Schmitz would miss you grievously
-to say nothing of myself. He asked me only to-day
whether you had decided yet, and when I said you would
in. all probability come home with us, he smiled, drew his
hand through his hair, and said: She is a good girl! "
" Did he really say so?" asked Aunt Bella, and her eyes
began to rain once more.
"Holla! where are you leading us to?" inquired Mr.
Degenfeld.
" I think to the meadow; it is too late for a longer walk!"
Wolfgang called back again.
They now proceeded on the road which Wolfgang had
laid out in spiral lines around the whole hill. The hill was
thickly overgrown with the greatest variety of deciduous trees
and evergreens, and the whole park-like arrangement was
intended for the benefit of the guests at the establishment.
The work was only begun; the rocky sides, which had been
cut down to make the road, were not yet overgrown with
ferns and creepers, as the plan required; provisional benches
took the place of future marble seats, and little temples
where the mineral waters were to be drunk; but the whole
plan boldly and ingeniously conceived could already be well




582            The House of Hohenstein.
discerned, and was judiciously appreciated by Uncle Peter
and Doctor Holm. They never tired looking at the magnificent views obtained through skillfully managed vistas; and
thus the sun had already set in the west, when they at last
left the forest and came out on the mountain meadow.
Wolfgang went to a little wooden cottage for some blankets,
on which the company stretched themselves, with the exception of Mr. Degenfeld, who preferred walking up and down,
rubbing his hand with delight at the pleasure which his
friends seemed to derive from the glorious view.  Mr.
Degenfeld owned more houses, factories, and estates than
he could always promptly recall to his mind, but this little
meadow of a few acres was his special pride. And justly
so. A finer view could hardly be found anywhere. At
their feet the lovely valleys, strewn with villages and houses,
from the midst of which lofty masses of rock grew up and
were now blazing in the rich evening light; behind them
were the gentle, thickly-wooded hills, upon which the
mountains farther back looked down; and then, on the
right, where the rocks opened as if on purpose, so far back
that the thunder of the avalanches could no longer be heard,
and yet so near that every crevice in the glaciers could be
seen distinctly, and the giant Alps themselves, growing
with their ice-covered heads wonderfully up into the blue sky
as if into eternity itself.
The mild, solemn beauty of the hour and the place harmonized fully with the feelings that were stirring in the hearts
of the good people who'were sitting here once more together,
before parting. On the following day, early, they were to
bid each other farewell, for a long time to come. Their
memory recalled all the good and the evil that time had
brought them in the course of years, but the evil had lost its
bitterness and was united to the good, as night is bound to
day. Mr. Degenfeld told them of his brother, the major,
how he had as a boy always aspired to the highest aim, never
for a moment belying the infinite goodness of his heart and
the nobility of his nature. Munzer's name also was mentioned, his great ability and his tragic fate; Antonia, to
whom, now that her body had been resting for more than a
year in the silent grave, even Aunt Bella was willing to do
justice; Clara, to whom Antonia had left her whole fortune,




The House of Hohenstein.          583
when life's overwhelming burden was taken from her, and
whose only real wealth was after all her little Ella, who developed almost daily greater loveliness, and often caused her
quiet, sorrowful mother to smile involuntarily when she recalled in her innocent prattle her father's fantastic, high-toned
notions. They thought of wild Cajus and of his last dread
deed, which was universally ascribed to the murderers of
the old general; and as they had escaped, and the fanatic
had long since buried himself, as far as all who had known
him here were concerned, in the Far West of America, the
enigma was likely to remain unsolved forever. They thought
of poor Balthasar and his philanthropy, by which he had
proposed to set the disjointed world right again, and of the
great and perfectly true principles which formed the basis
of his dreams; they thought of that whole, strange period,
when a nation was roused to the very lowest depths, and the
violent upheavings had brought to the surface so much mire
and so many priceless pearls.
"Those were great times," said Peter Schmitz, "and
none but fools or evil-disposed men will deny it. Whatever
moves a nation or all mankind to its innermost soul, cannot
be small and contemptible, or we would have to despise
mankind as a whole. The man whose look does not reach
beyond the limited horizon of his personal interest and
desires, and such people as expect to see ideas which
require centuries for their perfection, completed in a few
months or years, such men of course can see nothing in the
events of those years but folly and malice, and will, to
remain consistent, scoff at us and our silent activity. But
we will not be deterred by them. We know that the idea
of a free, fraternal humanity is immortal, although we, as
individuals, pass away as the smoke passeth away; we know
that time, which breaks these masses of rocks to dust, will
also break down the barriers which ignorance and superstition have raised to keep the different classes of society apart
from each other; we know that the night of tyranny serves
to give rest and renewed vigor to youthful liberty, so that at
sunrise she may be able to shake her golden locks and joyfully go to her work. For this conviction I have lived, ever
since as a youth my mind was first inflamed with this idea
of the solidarity of interests of all men; for this conviction I
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584            The House of Hohenstein.
am living now, a gray-haired old man; in this conviction I
shall die when my hour comes."
There was a peculiar tone in the voice of Peter Schmitz
as he spoke these words, a tone which mysteriously made all
their hearts tremble with awe. Thus they sat in silence,
united by a common, instinctive feeling.  In the grass
insects were chirping; fireflies were flying in large circles
around the low bushes, and night rose darker and darker
from the valleys up the slopes of the mountains; but high
above them the purple reflex of the sun was still burning on
the lonely glaciers of the Jungfrau-a symbol for the silent
people below, of the undying light which may set for the individual, but can never set for mankind.
THE END.