CHAPTER XI.
WHERE ART THOU, ROLAND?
"Where is Roland?"
Sonnenkamp asks Joseph, Joseph asks Bertram, Bertram asks Lootz, Lootzasks the head-gardener, the head-gardener asks the Little-squirrel, theLittle-squirrel asks the laborers, the laborers ask the children, thechildren ask the air, Fraeulein Perini asks the Chevalier, the Chevalierasks the dogs, and Frau Ceres must find out nothing from any of them.
Sonnenkamp rides at full speed to the Major, the Major asks FraeuleinMilch, but she, who knows everything, this time knows nothing. TheMajor rides to the castle; Roland's name is called out in all theexcavations and dungeons, but there is no answer.
Sonnenkamp sends the groom to the huntsman, but he is off to the field,and not to be found.
Sonnenkamp rides to the railroad station, taking with him Puck,Roland's pony, and often looking at the empty saddle. He asks at thestation, in an indifferent tone, if Roland had not arrived, as if hewere expecting his return from a journey. No one had seen him.Sonnenkamp rides back to the villa, and asks hurriedly if he has notcome, and when they say no, he rides to the next station up the river.He asks here also, but less cautiously, and here nothing is known. Theservants rush hither and thither as if bewildered.
Sonnenkamp returns to the villa; the Major is there; Fraeulein Milch hassent him, as perhaps he can render some assistance. She thinks thatRoland has certainly gone to the convent. The Major and Sonnenkampdrive to the telegraph-office, and send a message to the convent; theyare extremely impatient, for there is no direct telegraphiccommunication, and so it will be two hours before an answer can bereturned. Sonnenkamp desires to wait here, and sends the Major to thetown, where he was to see the doctor, and make inquiries everywhere,but not so as to excite any observation.
Sonnenkamp goes up and down at the station, and places his hot browagainst the cool stone pillars; all is quiet and empty. He went intothe passengers' room; he found that the seats at the station were notmade for comfortable rest; it was horribly inhuman. In America it isdifferent, or it isn't--no matter.
He went out; he saw the men loading a freight-car,--they did it soleisurely; he looked at a stone-cutter who was using a pick and ahammer: he looked fixedly at him as if he himself wanted to learn thetrade. People everywhere were working so quietly; they might well doso, they had not lost a son. He observed the telegraph-wires, he had animpulse to cry throughout the whole world, even where it would be of nopossible avail,--
"Where is my son?"
Night comes on. The railway-train rolls in, and Sonnenkamp steps backin terror; it seems to him that the locomotive would rush directly uponhim. He composes himself, he looks about, he strains his eyes, he seesnothing of Roland. The people disperse, and all is again still.
Sonnenkamp went to the telegraphist, and asked again if the telegramwhich had been sent had reached its destination. The reply was, "Yes."The clicking of the telegraph-lever thrilled him; he felt the sameblows in his throbbing temples. He requested the operator to remainthere during the night, as one could not tell but that a message mightbe sent to him, or he might want to send one.
But the operator refused, although a large sum of money was offeredhim; he was not allowed to change the arrangements without orders fromhis superiors. He ordered his assistant to stay there as long as hehimself remained; he closed the door with a bang, and went off. He wasevidently afraid of Sonnenkamp.
Sonnenkamp was again alone. Then he heard the stroke of oars on theriver.
"Is it you, Herr Major?" he cried out into the starlight night.
"Yes."
"Have you found him?"
"No."
The Major got out of the boat; there was no trace of Roland in thetown. An answer could not be received from the convent before early thenext morning. Now the thought presented itself, that perhaps Roland waswith Count Wolfsgarten. A messenger was sent thither, and they returnedto the villa.
When Sonnenkamp extended his hand to the Major to help him into thecarriage the latter said,--
"Your hand is so cold to-day."
It shot through Sonnenkamp's brain, like an arrow, that he had wantedto punish the boy to-day. If the boy, with this thought in his mind,had drowned himself in the waters of the Rhine!
The ring on his thumb burned into his flesh, as if it were red-hot.
Joseph met them on their way back to the villa.
"Is he there?" cried the Major. Sonnenkamp could not himself ask thequestion.
"No; but the gracious lady has got hold of it."
In the village through which they drove, people were still standingtogether in groups, and chatting in the mild spring-night. They met thepriest, and Sonnenkamp requested him to accompany them to the villa.
When they arrived at the court of the villa, Sonnenkamp remainedsitting in the carriage, as if he had lost himself, and did not get outuntil he was spoken to. He gained strength and self-possession afterhis feet touched the ground.
Lights flitted to and fro, and shone through the lofty windows of thehouse. Now a shriek was heard, and he hurried in. In the great saloon,Frau Ceres, in her night-dress, was kneeling before a chair, her facehidden in the cushion. The priest stood by her side, Fraeulein Periniwas pouring an effervescent powder into a glass. Sonnenkamp wentquickly to his wife, placed his hand upon her shoulder, crying,--
"Ceres, be quiet."
The lady turned round, glared at him with glowing eyes, then sprang up,tore open the garment on his breast, shrieking,--
"My son! give me my son, you--"
Sonnenkamp held his broad hand over her mouth; she tried to bite him,but he kept her mouth closed, and she was still.
Sonnenkamp requested the priest and Fraeulein Perini to leave his wife;Fraeulein Perini hesitated, but a wave of his hand gave her decidedorders to go. She and the Ecclesiastic left the room. Now Sonnenkamptook Frau Ceres up in his arms, as if she were a child; carried her into her chamber, and laid her upon the bed. Her feet were cold, and hewrapped a cloth around them in such a manner, that they were firmlybound. After a while, Frau Ceres slept, or only pretended to be asleep;it was the same either way. He went out into the balcony-chamber, wherethe Ecclesiastic, the Major, and Fraeulein Perini were sitting together.He urged the priest to betake himself to rest, thanking him verywarmly; he said the same to Fraeulein Perini, with an odd mingling ofcourteousness and authoritativeness in his manner; he requested theMajor to stay with him.
For an hour he sat with the Major at the open balcony-door, looking upat the starry heaven and listening to the rushing river; then herequested the Major to go to bed; the day would enable them to proceedquietly on sure ground. He himself lay down in the ante-chamber to hiswife's room; he went again softly to her bed, shading the light withhis hand; she was sleeping quietly, with burning cheeks.
All was still at the villa. Sonnenkamp was waked up when the messengerreturned from Wolfsgarten; they knew nothing of Roland there.
"Is Herr von Pranken coming?" asked Sonnenkamp. The messenger did notknow.
Sonnenkamp was very weary, and exhausted from want of sleep, but hecould not rest; he stood at the balcony and listened to the singing ofthe birds and the rushing of the river; he saw the sun rise in theheavens, he heard the clocks strike; the whole world, so fresh andbeautiful, seemed to him a chaos. His daughter at the convent, and hiswife ready, at any moment, to testify the most horrible things againsthim, and his son disappeared, leaving no trace! Perhaps his corpse isfloating yonder in the water! It seemed to Sonnenkamp, for a moment, asif he must throw himself headlong from the balcony, and put an end tohis life. Then he stood erect and took a fresh cigar.
He went down into the park; the trees were quivering noiselessly in theearly dawn, and their leaves rustled and whispered when the morningsunbeam stirred them into music and motion. The birds were carroling;they had their home and their family, and to them no child wasmissing----
Sonnenkamp wandered hither and thi
ther. This soil is his, these treesare his, everything is green, blooming, breathing a fresh life. Does hestill breathe for whom all this had life, for whom it all was to live,for whom it was planted and set in order?
"Why is it? why is it?" shrieked Sonnenkamp through the park. No replycame from without; perhaps one came from within, for he pressed bothhands, doubled up, against his breast.
He came into the orchard. There stood the trees, whose branches he hadshaped according to his pleasure; they stood in full blossom, and now,in the first morning beam, the blossoms were falling down like a lowrustling rain upon the ground, that looked white as if covered withflakes of snow.
The lighter the morning became, the more confident did Sonnenkamp feelthat Roland was floating there a corpse in the river, which was now ofa reddish purple, a stream of blood; the far-extending water wasnothing but blood! He uttered a deep groan, and stretched out his hand,as if he must grasp and throttle something. He seized hold of a treeand shook it, and shook it again and again, so that there was scarcelya blossom left upon it; he stood there covered all over with thepetals. And now he broke out into a scornful laugh.
"Life shall not vanquish me! Nothing! Not even thou! Roland, where artthou?"
At this instant he saw a white form, with a strange head-covering,glide through the orchard, and vanish behind the trees. What is that?He rubbed his eyes. Was that a mere fancy, or was it a reality?
He went after the apparition.
"Stop," he cried, "there are steel-traps there, there's a spring-gunthere!" A woman's voice uttered a lamentable, shriek. Sonnenkamp wentup to her, and Fraeulein Milch stood before him. "What do you want here?What's the matter?"
"I wanted the Herr Major."
"He is still asleep."
"I may also tell you," Fraeulein Milch began, composing herself, "itleaves me no rest."
"Out with it,--no preliminaries!"
Fraeulein Milch drew herself up haughtily and said,--
"If you are in that humor, I can go away as I came."
"Excuse me, what then do you want?" he asked gently.
"I had a suggestion for you."
Sonnenkamp composed himself to listen patiently, and nodded to her togo on. She now said that she could not rest, she did not know whetherthe Major had suggested it. Sonnenkamp broke off impatiently ablossoming twig, and Fraeulein Milch continued,--she thought that theHerr Captain Dournay might perhaps know where Roland was; they ought totelegraph to him.
Sonnenkamp thanked the old dame with a very obliging smile, and said,exercising great self-command, that he would wake up the Major, andsend him into the garden; but Fraeulein Milch begged that he might beallowed to take his sleep quietly. She turned back to her house, andSonnenkamp walked on through the park.
The roses had bloomed out during the night, and from hundreds of stemsand bushes sent their fragrance to their owner, but he was notrefreshed by it. Here is the park, here are the trees, here is thehouse, all this can be acquired, can be won. But one thing cannot bewon: a life, a child's life, a child's heart, a union of soul withsoul, which can never be sundered, and can never come to an end.
And again came to him that cutting sentence,--You have killed thenoblest impulses in your fellow-men, the feeling of father, and mother,and child. Now it is you who suffer!
Why does the word of that opponent in the New World hover around himto-day, today, as it did yesterday? Is that terrible man, perchance, onboard that boat which is now steaming up the stream in the firstmorning light?
He could not imagine that, at this very moment, the child of this manwas speaking to his own child.