CHAPTER XIII.
A WHIRL OF BODY AND MIND.
Beautifully dressed, with flowers in her hair, Manna walked to and froin the great drawing-room. The sight of her uncovered neck andshoulders in the long mirror seemed to shock her, and she drew moreclosely about her the encircling cloud of tulle. Roland and Ericentered. Eric stood motionless.
"How late you are!" said Manna.
Eric explained that he had been introducing his teacher to the routineof watering-place life, and expressed the hope that Manna would enjoythe society of the delicate-minded old man.
"Your teacher?" said Manna, and again Eric noticed the tears in hervoice. "Introduce me to him to-morrow. But now make haste, or you willbe late to the assembly."
"I am not invited," replied Eric.
"No! he is not invited, and so I am not going either," cried Roland.
The father and mother appeared, but their persuasions had no effectupon the boy. He would not even yield to Eric's urgent entreaty, butpersisted in remaining behind. After the family had actually driven offto the Hall, Roland appeared to regret not having gone with them, andinsisted on Eric's taking him to the gallery, whence they could see thedancing.
Pranken was manager of the assembly, and Manna shared the distinctionwith him. Her cheeks glowed, and she seemed in great spirits, but toRoland's vexation, she did not once look up to the gallery. Manna, infact, hardly knew herself. In the midst of the gaiety, she said toPranken:--
"Did you know that Captain Dournay's teacher had arrived?"
Pranken knit his brows. So she was thinking of him in the midst of thisgaiety! He was silent for awhile, not knowing what to reply; at last hesaid in a light tone:--
"Ah, teacher! Don't you get tired of this whole pack of teachers? Herewe have pleasing music, dancing,--come!"
He whirled her swiftly among the circle of dancers, and she felt as ifshe were no longer upon the ground, but were floating in the air.
"Let us go!" said Roland to Eric in the gallery. They left the hall,and took by moonlight the same beautiful walk through the forest thatthey had enjoyed in the morning.
"Is there no way in which I may relieve myself of a secret that hasbeen confided to me?" asked Roland. "I should so like to talk it overwith you! May I not tell it you?"
"No, you must not under any circumstances break your word. If you did,you would lose all hold upon yourself."
Roland sighed; he sorely wanted to tell Eric that his family was toreceive a title.
When they came out upon the clearing, and saw the town and the wholevalley lying in the moonlight, and heard a few broken strains of musicfrom the ball-room rising through the night air, Roland returned to thesubject:--
"I have an idea that this evening Manna is to be openly acknowledged asPranken's bride. My mother thinks that that will help forward theaccomplishment of the other secret. Can you not guess what it is?"
Eric replied with great self-control, that it was not honorable ofRoland to speak of any family matters that had been confided to him.
He spoke with a trembling voice. This thing, which had been so longdecided, suddenly came upon him as something new, unheard of,improbable. With rapture and yet with fear, he perceived that he hadallowed Manna to become dearer to him than he ought. He buried thepoint of his cane deep in the ground, and pressed upon it so violentlythat it broke to pieces in his hand. He told Roland it was time theywent home.
The carriage drove up to the door just as they reached the house, andout of it came Sonnenkamp, followed by Frau Ceres and Manna.
"Are you betrothed to Pranken?" asked Roland.
"You silly child!" returned Manna, as she ran quickly up the steps.
Sonnenkamp sent Roland to bed, and asked Eric to go with him into hisroom.
"Here is a mild brand of cigar," he said, throwing himself back in hisarm-chair, "light one. Captain Dournay, I look upon you as one of thefamily; you are ours, and must ever remain so."
Eric trembled. Had the father's suspicions been roused by Roland'sawkward question, and was he about to tell him that he must give up allthought of Manna? Or was he about to offer him his daughter's hand? Hehad time enough to entertain these opposing thoughts, for Sonnenkampmade a long pause, in the evident expectation of receiving some answerto his friendly address. But as his companion remained silent, he gotup, and after taking several turns up and down the room, suddenlystopped before Eric and said:--
"I give you to-day the most indubitable proof that I consider you oneof ourselves. Give me your hand."
Eric did so, and shuddered as he touched the iron ring on the man'sthumb.
Sonnenkamp continued:--
"I recognize and honor your reserve."
Eric's eyes wandered uneasily. What did all this mean?
After several hasty puffs at his cigar, Sonnenkamp continued:--
"You have never, in any way, alluded to what has been going on amongus, though you cannot have failed to be aware of it."
Eric still trembled. Sonnenkamp kept making such unusual pauses.
At last, bringing the words out with an effort, he said:--
"You know that I am about to receive a title?"
"No, I did not know it."
"You did not? Is it possible? Did Roland give you no hint?"
"A hint indeed of some secret, but I strictly forbade him to relate,even by a breath, any confidence that had been reposed in him."
"Good. You're a good teacher. I am grateful to you, sincerely grateful.I will be yet more so. You shall have proof of it. To be open with you,Captain Dournay--you can give me substantial help by furthering thisplan of mine."
"I?"
"Yes, you. You are the friend of our noble Count Wolfsgarten. He isalready one of our family, but he always declines to discuss thismatter, when I, or any of my friends, address him upon the subject. Youknow me, my dear Captain; you have watched my life, and your eye iskeen; I have a right to expect that, with all my faults, of which,unhappily, I have my share, you will judge of me justly and charitably.You are a man who will act as he thinks. You understand me?"
"Not entirely, I confess."
"Plainly, then, in a few days I shall give a rural fete at Heilingthal.I will take the Jew with me, and you can go with your friendWolfsgarten, and can easily discover what sort of opinion he will giveof me, or has already given."
"Would not Herr von Pranken, or the Countess, or the Cabinetsraethin, bebetter suited for such an office?"
"No; in that case I should not trouble you with it. Count Wolfsgartenhas declined expressing any opinion, saying always in his pedantic--Imean in his strictly honorable manner, that a judgment which is to beexpressed in confidence, to the Prince should be made known to no oneelse. In a few days the Prince will depart; he is favorably disposed.You will therefore discover this for me, dear Dournay, will you not? Itwill be so easy for you!"
"Herr Sonnenkamp," replied Eric, "you had the kindness to say a fewmoments ago that I did right in forbidding Roland to betray a secret.How shall I----"
"Ah, my dear Dournay," interrupted Sonnenkamp, "we may reasonably allowourselves many things that we should forbid a young person to do. Irespect, I honor your truthfulness. I acknowledge the great sacrificeyou would make in rendering me this service fully, thoroughly, but youwill make the sacrifice, will you not?"
Eric tried to decline the task. Sonnenkamp threw his head back, andwhistled softly to himself, while Eric maintained with greatearnestness that he was not good at sounding others' opinions, and thathe should consider it a betrayal of friendship to repeat anything whichwas said to him confidentially. "Besides," he concluded, "I do notthink that Count Wolfsgarten would express his opinion any more fullyto me."
Sonnenkamp was inwardly angry, but summoned all his powers ofself-control to his aid. He praised Eric's conscientiousness; spokewith enthusiasm of his delicate tact, his moral purity, and theloftiness of his ideal; he went so far as to apologize for havingf
ancied, even for a moment, that Eric was more than a friend to Bella;his unhappy experience among men, he said, must serve as his excuse forthe injustice; he considered it as the greatest of privileges to havebeen once allowed the acquaintance of a thoroughly pure and noble man.
Eric had never supposed that this man knew him so well; this Sonnenkampmust have a nobler mind than he had given him credit for, to be able toread so well the noble struggles of others.
The impression he had made was not lost upon Sonnenkamp. He laid hishand on Eric's shoulder, and said with a trembling, almost a tearfulvoice,--
"My dear young friend! Yes, my friend--I call you so, for you aresuch--even if I have not myself the right to claim so close an intimacywith you as I should like, consider what a great, what a necessaryinfluence indeed you may exert--not for me; of what consequence amI?--but for our Roland. For our Roland!" he repeated significantly. Themention of Roland's name suddenly roused Eric as from a dream. Heanswered by asking why Herr Sonnenkamp desired a title for Roland.
"Oh, my friend!" Sonnenkamp continued with increasing affection, "thatis the last, the only object of all my efforts in the Old World and inthe New. Oh, my friend! Who is able to tell how soon I may die? Youwill remain the friend, the support of my son. Give me your hand uponit. Promise me you will so continue. I shall die without a fear,knowing he is under your protection. Alas, no one suspects how ill, howshaken I am. I force myself to appear firm and erect, but I am inwardlybroken. The labors and struggles of life have sapped my strength. Anymoment may end my life, and I would gladly leave my son in an assuredposition. You, my friend, love our beautiful, glorious Germany; youwill be glad to secure to her a strong and faithful son. Should Rolandcontinue as he is, should he preserve his present name, he will alwaysconsider himself a citizen of the world across the ocean, not a trueson of our noble Germany, where alone a man of mind and of means canfind a sphere for his usefulness. Forgive me if I do not express myselfas warmly as I feel, and as I ought, to a friend like you. I only askyou to add to your other benefits to Roland that of making him a son ofGermany; if not for our sakes, yet for the sake of our dear country."
Sonnenkamp well knew what a responsive strain he touched in Eric, bythose tender words from the anxious heart of a father, and by thisbroad, reverent outlook, not only beyond his own death, but beyond allthought of self. Eric was touched, and said:
"I would give my life for Roland----"
Sonnenkamp would have embraced him, but Eric begged him to listenfurther.
"My life I can give up, but not my principles. I am willing to adoptyour views of the matter in a moment, if you can convince me I ammistaken. Do you really believe that it would add to Roland's happinessto have a title?"
"It would make his happiness; without that he would have no happiness.I am sure you will not misunderstand me, my very dear, noble friend. Ifrankly confess to you that I prize money highly; I have worked hardfor it, and should like to keep it; I should like to convert mypersonal property into real estate, at least in a great measure: I wantmy son freely to enjoy what I have toiled with unremitting industry toobtain. Oh, my friend, you do not know--it is better you should notknow what blows my life has borne, because I--but no more of that; itwould agitate me too much to-day. I had a tutor--a shrewd man, butunhappily not of such moral purity as yourself--who, I remember, oftensaid to me: He only is free who is not bound to the same level withothers, but is entitled to be judged by a loftier standard. A genius, aman like yourself, my dear friend, is by nature so entitled; but allare not geniuses. Genius is unattainable, therefore do men seek a titleof nobility that posterity may judge them by that higher standard. Iexpress myself clumsily, do I not?"
"No! the thought is subtilely developed."
"Ah, let us leave all subtleties. But I have after all omitted thechief point; it is well I remember it. It was you who first directed mythoughts and my efforts towards this aim."
"I? How so?"
"Let me remind you. On the first day of your coming among us you toldme, and you have often repeated it since, that Roland had no specialtalent that would lead him to the choice of a profession. The remarkoffended me at the time, but I see now that it was perfectly true. Forthe very reason that Roland is not gifted with genius, he must takerank among the nobility, have a title, which of itself gives positionand dignity to persons of average capacity, who are not able to carveout their own career. A nobleman is not sensitive; that is his greatadvantage. A baron or an earl is somebody at the start, and is notobliged to make himself somebody; if, besides that, he has any gifts,they are all clear gain, and the world is grateful for them. Wecommoners must begin by making ourselves something; we are nothing atthe start except sensitive, thin-skinned. Ah, my dear friend, I speakvery confusedly."
"By no means."
"I will say but one thing more. Roland will at some time, and it may besoon, enter on the possession of millions; if he is a noble, he willnot only stand in the circle of the select, but he will have all theobligations of honor, of benevolence, of usefulness, and will have themin a higher degree, because he will be one newly raised to rank. I openmy whole heart to you, my friend--I conceal nothing. Almost the wholeinhabited world is known to me, and shall I tell you what I have foundin it?"
"I should be glad to know."
"Know, then," here Sonnenkamp laid both hands upon Eric's shoulder,"you are a philosopher, a deep thinker--learn something from me."
"Willingly."
"Let me tell you then, my friend, there are three classes amongmankind, each bound so closely together that no member stands alone. Aman must belong to one of these in this degenerate world."
He paused awhile, and then, in answer to Eric's questioning glance,continued:--
"Yes, my friend, in this world a man must be either a Jew, a Jesuit, ora noble. You smile? The idea surprises you? Let me explain. If yousurvey the whole world you will find that each one of these threeclasses, and only these, forms a firm, lasting, indissoluble unionamong its members. My son cannot be a Jew, a Jesuit he shall not be,therefore he must be a noble."
Eric was fairly bewildered by Sonnenkamp's arguments. He strove toexercise his own freedom of thought, but he saw how immovablySonnenkamp's mind was made up, and looking over the past, he perceivedhow everything had been tending towards this one aim. And after all,might it not be an advantage for Roland to enter the ranks of thenobility? Might not this be the only means of establishing a home forhim in Germany?
The interview lasted till far into the night, Sonnenkamp constantlyendeavoring to prove the necessity of making Roland a noble, and Ericat last, almost from sheer weariness, promised to use his influencewith Clodwig. He got no rest as he lay in bed; he seemed to himself atraitor, but the voice of the tempter said:--
"After all, it is not you who can bring it about, nor he, but thePrince. Whether you lend your aid or not, the thing is sure to be done.Why should you be disobliging and ungrateful?"