Villa Eden
Chapter 193 : "I must recover my composure; for I alone can help myself.""Thou alone?

"I must recover my composure; for I alone can help myself."

"Thou alone?" he asked again, and his thoughts pa.s.sed to Bella. There is a woman such as he has never found before. There is courage, power, genius. But in what can even she help him? Nothing. No one.

Then, laying his hand on the dog's head, he thought: "Two bugbears are the worst enemies we have in the world,--fear before the deed, and repentance after it. With these quackeries we squander our existence.

He alone is free who fears no future and rues no past."

"I will be free!" cried he.

"I am so within myself; but where will freedom be allowed me? I must go back to America. No, to Italy, to Paris, to new surroundings.

"But the children, the children! They are filled with thoughts which take from them home and parents. Thy best course, after all, is to remain here, to despise mankind, whose hatred will gradually be blunted. Perhaps, too, there may be found some means of appeasing their wrath, which will have a penitent aspect. Was it the Professorin, or I myself, who spoke yesterday of a jury? That's the thing! Come on, World! I am myself again, and nothing else."

High above all these recent occurrences arose again in him the hatred of Crutius.

"How he is now rubbing his hands in his editorial office, where the little gas-jet burns! How he will rejoice at the signal-rocket which has roused the ma.s.ses! How the riot will figure in the newspapers!"

He now rang, and, sending for Eric, reminded him how he had formerly publicly exalted the grat.i.tude and good manners of the people. Now, he said with a laugh, he must also properly expose their misbehavior; he must, antic.i.p.ating all other reports, describe the whole thing naturally as an extravagance inspired by the new and effervescent wine.

At the close, he must add that Herr Sonnenkamp (for that was his name, lawfully derived from the maternal side of the house) would do something which should correct and satisfy public opinion.

He thought Eric pedantic, for wis.h.i.+ng to know at once whether any thing was to be done.

What's the use?

We show the public something prospective; but it is not necessary that this should be brought to pa.s.s; men forget what has been promised them.

This he wished to say to Eric, but withheld it, merely telling him that he might let the whole thing alone if he chose.

Just as Eric had left the room, came the dog-keeper, exclaiming,--

"Oh, sir, she is poisoned!"

"Who is poisoned?"

"The good beastie, Nora; in the night, during the riot, the shameful men gave her something, apparently a toadstool roasted in grease. She is dying now."

"Where is she?"

"Before the kennel."

Sonnenkamp went with the keeper to the enclosure where the dogs were.

There lay Nora, with her loosened chain beside her.

"Nora!" he cried.

The dog wagged its tail once more, raised its head, and blinked. Then the head fell, and she was dead.

The glance of the beast was piteous. Sonnenkamp seemed to wish to torture himself with gazing at her.

"Bury the dog before Roland sees her, he said at last.

"Where shall we bury her?"

Yonder, by the ash. But first skin her: the hide is worth something.

"No, sir, I cannot: I loved the dog too well to skin it."

"Very well. Then bury it skin and all."

He turned away and wandered about the garden; yet he could not refrain from returning to the spot where the dog was being buried.

"Yes," he said aloud to himself: "that's the way. The world gives us a toadstool roasted in fat. The world _is_ a toadstool roasted in fat--palatable, but poisonous!"

He returned to the house.

The other dogs were howling quite frightfully, as though they knew that one of their comrades had departed.

CHAPTER II.

TWELVE MEN.

Pranken, who remained true to Sonnenkamp, was often full of solicitude.

At times he looked very strangely at his friends, but did not give utterance to his projects. Sonnenkamp knew that something was going on.

He knew through Lootz that Pranken had several times received letters with large seals, one bearing the seal of the Court-Marshal's office, another that of the Ministry of State. He would have liked to ask him whether negotiations were pending, with a view to the attainment of the longed-for dignity. He looked at him inquiringly; but Pranken remained reticent. Sonnenkamp even pressed him not to disdain his a.s.sistance, saying that he was wise in some things, even though he had acted imprudently.

Pranken said that there were things which he must decide for himself, and which he hoped to put through successfully. He hinted that the world, even the little world of the city, was made up of different factions.

As he condescended to say no more, Sonnenkamp resolved to have recourse to an old method, and one which could here be very easily employed. He would obtain by theft, through the agency of Lootz, the letters which Pranken had received. He rejected this course, however. Yet once, when Pranken had ridden in haste to the railway station, just after he had received another large letter, he went toward his room. He would have no go-between. He could surely get possession of the letters, and Pranken was no doubt careless enough to render unnecessary breaking open any locks or picking them.

In a sudden attack of loyalty, however, he turned away from the threshold.

Pranken returned, bringing the news that he was in danger; but earnestly begged to be excused from giving any particulars.

Sonnenkamp embraced the excited young man, and made him promise not to engage in any duel without his knowledge.

Reluctantly Pranken gave him his hand upon this, and departed.

While Eric was yet at his mother's, Sonnenkamp came thither with a letter in his hand. He first expressed his joy at seeing the Professorin so full of new life; then, saying that he had a letter from her friend, he handed her one written by Professor Einsiedel, and added with a smile:

"These learned gentlemen have very good memories. I had forgotten having invited the man."

The Professorin read Einsiedel's letter, in which he said that he should not be lecturing next winter, and was ready to accept Sonnenkamp's invitation, and to take up his abode for some time at Villa Eden.

As the Professorin smilingly gave back the letter, a gleam of furtive triumph shot from Sonnenkamp's eyes. Then this new specimen of humanity, this puritanic infidel, has her own private affinity. Perhaps she felt the malicious glance; for she said, in a very decided manner,--

"I should be very glad to have the n.o.ble man come to us. His visit would be a great deal to me, and, perhaps, to others also. In the first place, I know of nothing better for Roland; for you, Eric, are so entirely accustomed to him, that you do not now offer him that support which he, perhaps, may need for a long time yet."