CHAPTER XV.
AN EXTRA TRAIN.
"I've been through a great deal, but that I should ever be obliged togo through this! If we can only come out of this with a whole skin!This may be called a wanton exposure of one's life--and one has noweapons of defence."
Such were the Major's words, stammered out at intervals, as he held onto a tassel of a first-class railway car, and looked sorrowfully at thedog Laadi lying at his feet, while he was travelling with HerrSonnenkamp in an extra train. Herr Sonnenkamp appeared to feel a joy inthis mad speed.
"In America," he said, "they go three times as fast in an extra train."
He seemed to experience a secret satisfaction in showing the Major thatthere was a courage wholly different from that of the battle-field,which he possessed and the Major did not. He had accounts to tell oftrips made in America on wagers. And when they stopped to take inwater, Sonnenkamp took leave of the Major, saying that he was going toride on the locomotive, for he must try once more how that seemed.
The Major sat with Laadi alone in the only car attached to thelocomotive; he stared fixedly out of the window, where trees,mountains, and villages flew by like a whirlwind, and he thanked Godthat Fraeulein Milch knew nothing of his consenting to make such a madtrip with Herr Sonnenkamp on an extra train.
And why is this man in such a hurry? The Major does not understand it.Sometimes he was stingy about a kreuzer, and so very modest that hewished to make no show and to excite no observation, and then again hewas very lavish with his money, and did every thing to attract people'sattention. The Major did not understand the man. He must certainly havebeen a locomotive-driver; and what is there that he may not have been!
"Yes, Laadi," exclaimed he, speaking to the dog, "come, lie down by me.Yes, Laadi; neither of us could ever dream of going through this! If weonly once do get through it! Yes, Laadi, she will mourn for you too ifwe are killed."
The dog growled away to himself; he must have been full of wrath alsoat the fool-hardy Sonnenkamp.
Madder and madder was the speed: down they went over descending gradesnear the river, and the Major expected every instant that thelocomotive would run off the track, and the passenger-car be dashed inpieces and tumbled into the stream. Yes, there came over him such asettled fear, or rather expectation, of immediate death, that he bracedhis feet against the back of the seat, and thought to himself,--
"Well, death, come! God be praised, I have never harmed anybody in theworld, and Fraeulein Milch has been cared for, so that she will neversuffer need."
Tears wet his closed eyes, and he made a strange face in order tostifle his tears; he was unwilling to die, and then, too, when therewas no need of it. He opened his eyes with rage, and doubled up hisfists; this extra train is wholly unnecessary; Roland was known to bein good hands. But this man is such a savage!
The Major was very angry with Sonnenkamp, and yet more with himself,for being drawn into any such mad freak. All his heroic mood was gone,he was wholly unreconciled to the position, he had been duped, this wasnot fit for him. Fraeulein Milch is right; he is weak, he cannot say no.
Whenever he looked out he became dizzy. He found a lucky expedient; heplaced himself so as to ride backwards. There one sees only what hasbeen gone over, and not what is coming. But neither does this do anygood; it is even more terrible than before, for one sees now the bold,short curves which the road makes, and the cars incline on one side asif to plunge over. And now tears actually flow out of the Major's eyes.He thought of the funeral service which the lodge, would perform forhim after he was dead; he heard the organ-peal, and the dirges, sayingto himself,--
"You eulogize me more than I deserve, but I have been a good brother.The Builder of all the worlds is my witness that I meant to be."
The car rolled on at a more measured speed, and the Major consoledhimself with the thought that no accident had ever yet happened on thisroad. But no, he went on thinking, perhaps one would be safer on a roadwhere some accident has already happened; the people here are toocareless, and thou must be the first victim. Which would Fraeulein Milchconsider the more dangerous, a road which had already experiencedmishaps, or one like this, that has now to meet with them for the firsttime? I must take care to put the question to her. Don't forget it,Laadi, we must ask her. He had now overcome all fear, and he became sofree and cheerful that he ridiculed his own apprehensions, thinkingthat the millionaire on the locomotive had a much greater stakeinvolved, putting his life in peril, and that he would not do it ifthere were any real danger.
The dog must have scented out the peril of the rapid journey, for shewas in a continual tremble, and looked up appealingly to her master.
"Thou art a lady, and thou art afraid," said the Major, addressing her."Take courage! Thou art not so faint-hearted. Come! so--so--get up intomy lap. Clean enough, clean enough," he said, smilingly, as the doglicked his hand.
And from the midst of his anguish, the Major was already pleasinghimself with the thought, how, in a few days, in the quiet arbor in hisgarden, he will tell Fraeulein Milch of the imminent peril. He caressedLaadi, and rehearsed to himself the whole story of the impendingdanger.
They arrived at the station where the road branches off to theuniversity-town. Here they are told that no extra train could befurnished, as there was only one track. They must wait an hour for thenext regular train.
Sonnenkamp stormed and scolded over these dawdling Europeans, who didnot know how to put a railroad to its proper use; he had arranged,indeed, by telegram for a clear track. But it was of no use. The Majorstood at the station, and thanked the Builder of all the worlds thatall was so unalterably fixed. He went away from the river, and salutedthe cornfields, where the standing corn, in its silent growth, alloweditself to be in no way disturbed out of its orderly repose; he rejoicedto hear, for the first time this season, the whistling of the quail,who has no home in the vineyard region; and he gazed at the larkssinging as they flew up to heaven.
A train had come into the station and stopped. The Major heard men'svoices singing finely, and he learned that many persons, who werealready seated in the cars, were emigrating to America. He saw mothersweeping, fathers beckoning, and while the locomotive was puffing at thestation, many village youths stood on the platform together, in agroup, and sang farewell songs to their departing comrades. They sangwith voices full of emotion, but they kept good time.
"It will rejoice Fraeulein Milch when I relate this to her," thought theMajor, and he mingled among those who remained behind, giving themwords of consolation; he went to the emigrants and exhorted them tocontinue good Germans in America. In the midst of his weeping, an oldman cried:--
"What are you waiting for? make it go ahead!"
The rest scolded the man for his rudeness, but the Major said,--
"Don't take it ill of him, he cannot do differently, he is toomiserable." The old man nodded to the Major, and all the rest looked athim in surprise.
In the mean while, the train arrived which was to carry those going onthe branch road.
"Herr Major! Herr Major!" shrieked the employes of the road fromvarious quarters. They had great difficulty in bringing the Major overto the other side of the train.
"One might almost envy you, you are such a child; you allow yourself tobe distracted by every occurrence on the way, and to be drawn, awayfrom your destination like a child."
"Yes, yes," laughed the Major--he had recovered his broadlaugh--"Fraeulein Milch often tells me that."
He told Sonnenkamp of the affecting parting of the emigrants and theirfriends, but Sonnenkamp seemed to have no interest in it. Even when theMajor said that the Freemasons had taken all pains to block the game ofthe kidnappers who cheated the emigrants, even then, Herr Sonnenkampremained speechless. The Major sat by him in silence.
They reached the university-town. No one was there to receive them, andSonnenkamp was very indignant.
The family of the professor's wif
e were at breakfast. Roland drank hiscoffee out of the cup which had Hermann's name upon it, and Eric saidthat they must be at the station in an hour, since Herr Sonnenkampwould probably come by the express train: it was not to be supposedthat he would come by the accommodation train, which had no connectionwith the West. Just as Eric was saying this, there was a knock; theMajor walked in first, and after him, Sonnenkamp.
"Here is our devil of a boy!" cried the Major. "Here is the deserterhimself!"
The awkwardness of the first interview was thus removed. Roland satimmovable upon his chair; Eric went to meet Sonnenkamp: he turned thento the boy, and ordered him to ask his father's forgiveness for what hehad done. Roland complied.
The mother prayed Herr Sonnenkamp not to punish the boy for hiswilfulness. His father replied, good-humoredly, that, on the contrary,this bold stroke of the boy gave him particular delight; he showedcourage, resolution, and self-guidance: he would rather reward him forit. Roland looked at his father in amazement, then grasped his hand andheld it fast.
Eric requested his mother and aunt to retire with Roland to the study,and he remained with the Major and Sonnenkamp. Sonnenkamp expressed hissatisfaction and gratitude to Eric, who must certainly be familiar withmagic, to have so bewitched his son that he could not live apart fromhim.
"Do you think so?" Eric asked. "I must express to you my astonishment."
"Your astonishment?"
"Yes; I have, I am sorry to say, no talent at all of that sort, but Imay be permitted to say that I almost envy those who can accomplishsuch things."
Sonnenkamp looked inquiringly at Eric, who continued:--
"It is a master-stroke of pedagogical science that you have effected. Isee now that you have declined my service in Roland's hearing, in orderto induce him to act from his own free-will; this will bring him undermy influence as nothing else would be likely to do."
Sonnenkamp looked amazed. Is this man making fun of him? Does he wishto ridicule him, or, by means of this refined policy, to get the betterof him still farther? This would be a touch of diplomacy of the highestorder. Pranken is probably right, and Eric is a wily trickster underthe mask of honest plainness. Well, let it be so. Sonnenkamp whistledto himself in his inaudible way; he would appear not to see throughEric. He let it be understood that he had played a nice game withRoland, and he smiled when the Major cried:--
"Fraeulein Milch said so--yes, she understand everybody, and she hassaid,--Herr Eric, he is the man who sees clear through HerrSonnenkamp's policy. Yes, yes, that is a whole extra train ofsmartness."
Sonnenkamp continued smiling deprecatingly and gratefully, but hisastonishment was renewed, when Eric now made the declaration,--
"Unfortunately, life itself is so self-willed, that the best-laidlogical chain is cut in two; I find myself obliged, on my part, todecline positively your friendly offer."
Sonnenkamp again whistled inaudibly. Another stroke of diplomacy,then! He could not grasp him; the antagonist has enticed his foe out ofhis stronghold; Sonnenkamp joined battle in the open field. Ericrelated that he had the offer of acting director in the Cabinet ofAntiquities, with the promise of a permanent appointment.
"That's it," nodded the Major to himself, "that's it, screw him, maketerms for yourself, as a singer does who is in demand; you can haveyour own price, they must give you all you ask."
But the Major's look suddenly changed, when Eric continued,--
"From your practical American standpoint you would certainly approve ofmy refusal, if that were necessary, in order to attain higherconditions, whether internal or external, of my own freedom. But I tellyou frankly, that I have no motive for this refusal, except the duty ofgratitude towards my patron."
Sonnenkamp answered, assentingly,--
"I am very far from desiring to interfere at all with your plan oflife. I regret to be obliged to give it up, but I give it up."
"Yes," interposed the Major, "you give it up, and he declines. That'sno go. The youth, what is he going to do? What becomes of him?"
Sonnenkamp and Eric regarded the Major in silence, who uttered thedecisive words,--"What becomes of Roland?"
Eric was the first to collect himself, and requested that Sonnenkampwould commit his son to him for a year at the capital; for he himselfmust acknowledge that he should no longer be happy or at rest, until hecould expend his best energies for the boy, in order to establish himin a noble career in life; and that it would be the best plan forRoland also to be brought up in the companionship of others, and hewould see to it that he had good companions.
Sonnenkamp pressed his fingers to his lips, and then said,--
"Such a plan cannot be talked of for a moment; my breath is gone, whenI know that the child is away from me. I must therefore beseech you,not a word of this."
He now requested the Major to leave him alone with the Captain.
The Major complied at once, and did not take it at all amiss, thatSonnenkamp disposed of him so readily.
And now that they were alone, Sonnenkamp said, rubbing his chinrepeatedly,--
"I see clearly the difficulty of consigning Roland to any one but you;I have already dismissed the man who was employed by me. But now, onequestion. Were you not, voluntarily, employed in the House ofCorrection?"
"Why do you ask, since the asking tells me that you already know?"
"And do you think that you can now be Roland's preceptor?"
"Why not?"
"Do you think that it will not revolt the boy, or at least deeply woundhim, when he shall at some time learn by chance, that he is under a manwho has had the management of convicts?"
"Roland will not learn this by chance. I shall tell him myself, and hewill have understanding enough to perceive that this is no degradationof my personal worth, but--I say it with all modesty--an exaltation ofit. With my own free will, and holding an honorable position, I desiredto devote myself to my fallen fellow-men; and I can only regret that Imust acknowledge myself to have no talent for this. I am of theconviction that every man, whatever he has done, can become once morepure and noble; I was not able, unfortunately, in that position, tocarry out my conviction."
Sonnenkamp listened, with closed eyes; he nodded, and thought that hemust say something laudatory to Eric, but he did not seem able to bringit out.
At last he said,--
"I have introduced this matter only to show you that I keep nothing inreserve; we are now, I hope, of one mind. Might I ask you to call theMajor, and let me join the ladies?"
The Major came, and when Eric was alone with him, naturally relatedfirst of all the terrors of the extra train, and that the clatteringwas no longer a perceptible beat, but one continued rumble. He knew howto imitate it very exactly, and to give the precise difference of soundwhen going by the stations, and the mountains, and over the dikes.
Eric could have replied that he was accurately acquainted with theroad; he had gone over it a few days before, without speaking a word,engaged in his own meditations, but the Major did not suffer himself tobe interrupted; he asserted that no one had ever before so rode, and noone would ever ride so again, so long as Europe had its iron rails, forSonnenkamp had fired up after the American fashion.
Then he said,--
"I have come to know Herr Sonnenkamp very thoroughly, since his sonwent away. I have, indeed, no son, and cannot enter completely into hisway of expressing himself, but such lamentation, such reproachesagainst himself, such raving, such cursing,--our hardest corporal is atender nun in comparison--such words he brought out. It must truly be afact! In countries where good tobacco grows, and snakes and parrots,Fraeulein Milch has said, there the soil of men's hearts is much hotter,and there things grow up, and creatures creep out and fly about, suchas we have no sort of idea about. And how Frau Ceres carried on, I'llnot speak of.
"But you know who first told where the youth is? Fraeulein Milch toldit. And do you know what she said? 'If I were a young girl, I would runafter Herr Eric too, over mountain and valley.' That is to sa
y, she hassaid that in all honor; she has never loved any one but me, and we haveknown each other now for nine and forty years, and that is something.But why do we speak of such things now? we shall have time enough forthis by and by. You are right, you are smarter than I thought for; itis shrewd in you not to make terms at once. Now he has come to you,into the house, you can make whatever conditions you want to. In hisraving he cried,--A million to him who restores my son to me! You canclaim the million, it belongs to you; I am witness of that."
Eric declared that he was irresistibly attracted towards the boy, butthat he could not come to terms, for it would be the highest kind ofingratitude if he should decline the position that had been offered tohim in such a friendly way, and of which a report had certainly beenmade, before this time, to the Prince.
In what light would he stand with his patron, and with the Prince, whohad, besides, grounds of displeasure with him, if he should now say,"Thank you kindly; I have, in the mean while, made a previousengagement elsewhere"? The Major drummed with the fore and middlefingers of his right hand rapidly upon the table, as if his fingerswere drumsticks.
"Bad, very bad," he said. "Yes, yes, fate often takes an extra traintoo; everything has an extra train now-a-days."
Eric said, in addition, that service to an individual had itsdifficulty; he might perhaps be able to consent to appear ungrateful,and forfeit forever all favor, but he feared lest, in the dependentservitude to the rich man, he might often be troubled with the thoughthow much more free he might have been in the service of the State.
The Major continued to drum and drum, repeating the words,--
"Bad--very bad!"
He uttered the words so oddly, that it sounded like a crow, in thefreshly-turned furrow, gulping down an earthworm.