Das landhaus am Rhein. English

  CHAPTER II.

  "UP THE RIVER."

  "Name: Eric Dournay. Title: Doctor of Philosophy, late Army-Captain.Place of departure: name of a small University city. Destination: ----Object of Journey: ----"

  Such was the entry made by the young man in the register of the innearly the next morning; and he now first noticed written above hisname, "Justice Vogt, Lady, nee Landen, and Daughter, from"--a smalltown on the Upper Rhine. That was then the mottled gentleman ofyesterday with the two ladies.

  Eric, for so we shall hereafter call him, carrying his small valise,went down to the steamboat-landing. The morning was fresh and bright,life and song everywhere, and only one little cloud, like a slightstreak of mist resting half way up the mountainside. Eric walked with afirm and erect step, taking in full draughts of the fresh morning air.He stood at the landing, and looked into the water, from which a streakof mist rose, and became dissolved in the air. Then he gazed long atthe island, where the morning bell was ringing to wake up the children,who had been transformed the previous evening into legendary beings.How would that girl with long, black hair and glittering wings open herbright eyes? As if he must drive away this image, Eric took the paperout of his pocket, and read again the advertisement. On came thepuffing steam-boat pressing her bow against the stream.

  Eric had not noticed that two of the convent nuns, one of whom was thepretty Frenchwoman, had been also waiting for the approaching boat. Hedid not see them until after they had got on board. He gave them asalutation, but received no response except a look of surprise. Theytook their breviary, sat down upon the deck and said their prayers. Onseeing them, Eric thought he would ask who the girl was with the wings;but he came to the conclusion not to do so, for no result could comefrom this occurrence, and he wished to concentrate all his energiesupon the project he had in view. There were but few fellow passengers,and the morning hour does not encourage sociability, as if the solitudeof sleep has yet an influence over human souls.

  Eric stationed himself near the helmsman, who whistled incessantly in alow tone: and lost in thought he looked at the upheaved water and theshore. Pressing together his finely cut lips, he seemed determinedsilently to take in the full poetic beauty of this river and landscapethat has never been adequately portrayed, and often shook his head ashe heard two persons here and there wasting in so-called conversationthe freshness of the morning and the quiet, inspiring influence of thescenery. We shall often have occasion as we proceed, to impartinformation about this youth. At present we will premise that Eric, theson of respectable parents, receiving a careful education, entered themilitary service, and then, voluntarily resigning his commission,devoted himself to study. He had just obtained his doctor's degree,working very hard to hasten this event, for only two months had elapsedsince the death of his father. On the evening of the day he had takenhis degree, his mother urged him to allow himself a few days'recreation. Stroking his pale, thin face, she said, "You will regainthe fresh color of life; life and work are one's duty; that was alwayswhat your father said and did."

  It was to be determined when Eric returned what plan of life they wouldadopt. The thought, which she could not keep down, was very painful tothe mother, that they could no longer continue in their former mode oflife without care and responsibility, but must make provision for thefuture, a state of things never contemplated by her. And with pain thatshe sought to repress, but could not wholly conceal, calling to mind asaying of Lessing, she saw her son standing in the marketplace andasking for work. Moreover, she hoped that her son would consent finallyto receive some position through patronage; at any rate he must againrecover his fresh, youthful looks. Had the mother seen him now, shewould have been astonished to see how quickly that had taken place; fora brightness shone in his eye, and a color in his countenance morebrilliant and glowing than in his best and most tranquil days.

  For the sake of giving some special object to his journey, she hadcommissioned him to carry her greeting to the Superior of the convent.He was now on his return, for a simple newspaper advertisement hadgiven an unexpected direction to his journey and his purposes.

  Wonderful! thought Eric to himself, placing his hand upon the breastpocket containing the newspaper, wonderful, how the calls are givenwhich send forth here and there the adventurous Ulysses!

  Meanwhile he had sufficient youthful elasticity not to neglect, for thesake of the goal, the pleasures to be enjoyed by the way. He watchedwith an intelligent glance the machinery of the boat, and the life onthe river and on the banks. At the second landing the two nuns were tostop, and the pretty Frenchwoman gave him a backward nod, as shedescended the side ladder. When in the boat she sat looking down withfolded hands; and on landing, she gave no further look behind.

  The passengers changed at every landing. At one village came a band ofpilgrims, chiefly women with white kerchiefs on their heads; and whenthey disembarked, a troop of Turners came on board, in their light grayuniform, and immediately struck up a song upon the deck, whilst thepilgrims sang upon the shore. In all the cities and villages theypassed bells were ringing on that bright spring day full of blossomsand sweet sounds, and Eric felt all that intoxication which theRhine-life brings over the spirit,--that exhilaration of every faculty,which comes no one knows whence, as no one can say what gives to thewine of these mountains its flavor and its life. It is the breath ofthe stream; it is the fragrance of the mountains; it is the virtue ofthe soil; it is the sunlight that glows in man as in the wine, andexcites an ethereal gladness which no one can be free from, and whichno one can explain.

  Eric was often spoken to, but he held himself aloof from allcompanionship, wishing in the movement around him to be alone with thedelightful landscape. There are words which become poles of thought inthe meditation of the lonely. Eric heard one fellow traveller say toanother,

  "I prefer to go up the river, for one can look at everything longer andmore closely, and it is a triumph of the human mind that we can makeheadway against the current."

  Against the current! That was the word which that day stuck fast toEric out of the thousand things he thought of and looked upon. Againstthe stream! That was also his life-course. He had left the troddenhighway, and with bold self-determination he had marked out a path ofhis own. It is well, for one there learns more perfectly the worldabout him, and, above all, learns his own strength.

  "Against the current!" said he, smiling to himself. "Let us see whatwill come of it." It was high noon when he disembarked at a littlemediaeval city.

  A young man standing on the shore looked sharply at him, exclaiming,"Dournay!" "Herr von Pranken!" answered Eric. They grasped each other'shands.