Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine

CHAPTER VI.

THE VOLUNTEER

In accordance with a wish of Weidmann's, Eric accompanied Roland and Joseph to the city, in order to deposit the valuable papers in a place of safety.

The first house they visited on arriving in the city was the Banker's, which, situated in a garden outside the gates, combined the repose of the country with the animation of the city. The business life of the owner was in the heart of the city: here he was his own master. Everywhere throughout the richly furnished house were marks of refinement and elegance.

To Eric's surprise, he found the Banker in the great library where were several beautiful statues. The man, who, at Wolfsgarten, at the time of Clodwig's death, had kept so modestly in the background, here in his domestic life presided over a rich and solid establishment.

After a short explanation of the object of their visit, the Banker took his guests to his office. Here, in his business activity, he seemed another man, or rather two men. He had, so to speak, an office nature and a home nature: in his own house friendly, amiable, generous, and communicative; at his office chary of words, curt, decided, and cautious.

He declined receiving all these valuable papers himself, but advised their being taken to the city bank for deposit: as an additional precaution, the coupons should be separated from the bonds, and kept by themselves.

The Banker advised that Roland should acquire some insight of his own into business and money matters. As he would one day have the management of such a large property, it would be desirable for him to enter some business house for a while; otherwise he would always be in a measure dependent upon others. He offered to make an exception in Roland's favor, and, contrary to his custom, receive the young man into his own office.

Eric assented, seeing what an advantage this would be; but Roland looked embarrassed. The Banker now produced Weidmann's letter in which the same desire was expressed.

Roland cast a timid look about the room, where several young men were standing at desks writing, or were walking to and fro. Should he be standing there too? What did these strangers mean by disposing of him so, and wishing to give him a career?

All this passed rapidly through his mind, and, when he was asked his opinion, he replied, —

"I am grateful not only for the kindness, but for the frankness, of Herr Weidmann and yourself in speaking so openly with me."

The Banker sent word through a speaking-tube, that he desired Herr Rudolph Weidmann to come up to his room.

Weidmann's youngest son, who was a clerk in the banking house, soon entered.

There was a general introduction: the young man bowed to Eric, and shook hands with Roland. The Banker told young Weidmann that he should be excused from work as long as Roland remained; but the young man replied, that there was so much work going on as to make that impossible. The Banker dismissed him with an invitation to come that evening to his house; and, after a few friendly words with Roland, the boy departed.

The Banker considered whether it would not be well to sell some of Sonnenkamp's American paper, owing to the unsettled state of the times; but, on the other hand, he could hardly take upon himself the responsibility. He received with a cordial smile Roland's suggestion, that they were bound to keep his money as it was till there should be some new developments.

Roland and Eric next accompanied the Banker to the house. It was just at the time, when, owing to the election of Lincoln, American paper was falling from day to day in value, occasioning great excitement in business circles. Roland and Eric were greatly impressed by the fact; and the question arose in their minds. How could men take a purely moral and disinterested view of great public events, when the rise and fall which they occasioned affected so immediately their own profit and loss?

Bewildered by the noise and the contradictory emotions that the scene aroused in them, they left the Exchange, and became the Banker's guests in his own house.

Here the Banker assumed the part of teacher, and explained to his two guests that the laws of economics and those of humanity were hard to reconcile, almost as hard as the conflict between the freedom of the will and the limitations of nature in the department of philosophy. They are parallel lines that rarely meet, and then only to part again at once. After all, what was one man's loss was another man's gain, so that none of the world's property was really lost.

Eric showed how these contrasts had been recognized, though in a different way, in the most ancient times. The rod of Hermes is at once the wand of divination and the symbol of that instantaneous flash – the introduction into life and the dismissal from it – by which the old myths represented human life and death.

The Banker, who was always ready to receive information, listened to Eric's explanation of the myths and sagas, and their similarity in all the different nations. He was always eager to penetrate any new realm of knowledge, and grateful for instruction.

While the company were at table, several telegrams were brought to the Banker, who read them tranquilly, and then handed them to his two sons, who were sitting at table with him.

Here, at this table, Eric was for the first time conscious of a change in himself. The Banker liked to have every finished result of science served up for him, and he brought intelligence and relish to the enjoyment of it, as he did at the same time to a perfectly ripe pine-apple; but Eric was not so communicative as he used to be, and no longer felt called upon to give himself out at every demand. He kept silence, and left the talking to others. As soon as he had finished his comparisons of the different mythologies, the Banker, in his turn, spoke of the effect that was produced by the rise or fall of this or that paper; the exchange also he described as an organic existence.

Eric was a ready listener, he wanted now to be instructed by others.

The Banker's daughter-in-law, a lady of noble bearing, treated Eric and Roland with marked cordiality, and expressed a great desire to become acquainted with the Professorin and Manna.

Eric was surprised at being reminded of an incident that had almost passed from his memory. This lady had heard him sing at the festival, and said how much pleasure it would give her to hear him again, as she sang a little herself: upon his saying, however, that he was not at that moment at all in the mood for singing, she at once ceased from her request, in the hope that it might, by and by, at some happier time be granted her.

As the company were rising from table, young Weidmann and the cashier Fassbender were announced. The host made them come in, and sit down with the party at dessert. The young men were evidently embarrassed, and felt it a great favor to be thus admitted into the private life of their chief.

The gentlemen repaired to the billiard room. And the young men, as a special favor, were allowed to smoke a cigar in the house of the chief, even in his presence.

As Roland showed ho inclination to take part in the game, the Banker told him to consider himself at perfect liberty to go to his room, or to take a walk with Weidmann and Fassbender. He preferred going with the young men to his room. He returned presently, when the gentlemen, having finished their game, were sitting in familiar chat about the open fire, and with many thanks announced his resolution of entering the office for a while; only stipulating that he should not be charged with fickleness of purpose, if he did not stay long in the employ.

Far into the night, Roland talked with Eric, telling him how strange it seemed to have so much guidance and protection offered him, although he acknowledged the advantage it was to him, and the gratitude he felt towards these gentlemen for it.

The next morning, the box of papers was taken to the vaults of the bank. Eric and Roland stood as in a fairy tale before all this hidden treasure. Some old recollection must have been stirred in Roland; for he suddenly said to Eric, —

"What would Claus say if he could see all this?"

He looked in amazement at Eric, standing there so tranquil and indifferent.

"Does it not impress you strongly too?" he said.

"Not at all; for what is all this treasure? From the top of a mountain, you see things of much more value than this stamped metal. Houses, fields, trees, are much more, much greater."

Roland looked disheartened. For a long time to come, he would have nothing to do but cast accounts, and watch the money market. The full life at the Villa, the mountains, the river, the drives, and Mattenheim, all seemed removed to an immeasurable distance. Nevertheless, he remained firm.

Eric took Roland to the counting-house, where the latter was assigned a place at young Weidmann's desk.

Eric staid several days; for he wished to become acquainted with Roland's associates. He was especially pleased with the cashier, Fassbender's son, a young man of much discernment and youthful freshness, active in body, and vivacious in mind. He was president of the mercantile turnverein, and assiduously cultivated the love of learning in himself and his companions.

Eric could resign the guidance of Roland to this young man with entire confidence.

He talked much with the Banker about Clodwig. The Banker was very lenient in his judgment of Bella, and could not refrain from reproaching Clodwig with having married again: he had deceived himself, and allowed Bella to be deceived; for the latter had really believed that she could find pleasure in a quiet life, and relinquish all the privileges of youth; and it was the smothered passion for adventure which had driven her to this extreme.

Eric listened, but said little. He even felt it his duty to tell the Banker that he had got over his old zeal for imparting knowledge, and was no longer in a condition to give the total results of his thoughts and study.

The Banker considered this perfectly natural. The knowledge which constituted a man's calling, he said, was a man's capital, and ought not to be drawn upon: every man held a kind of trust fund, and the interest only should be risked and freely employed in trade.

He thought it eminently proper that Eric should now learn to be economical of himself.

On the third day, Eric returned alone to Villa Eden, promising to forward all necessary aids for Roland.

He came, as it were, out of another world; but his heart was lightened: he rejoiced at Roland's sudden resolve, and even began to consider himself no longer as a mere scholar, but as one to whom a great treasure has been intrusted which he is to care for next to truth.

The announcement of Roland's decision created great astonishment at Villa Eden.

Eric found Professor Einsiedel and Fräulein Milch at his mother's; and all gazed wonderingly at the latter when she suddenly exclaimed, —

"Roland enter the house of a Jew!" But to the inquiry what there was strange about this, she made no reply, only looking round as if bewildered.

Eric told the Professor he should now make great allowance for the rich, to whom full aspiration could scarcely be possible with their vast possessions ever in their thoughts. The safe-key in the breast pocket must, he thought, lock up something in the heart.

Manna, alone, comprehended the true grounds of Roland's strange resolve; for she said that it would not merely prove the youth's salvation to learn the management of wealth, which, after all, was only a kind of military drill, but that he evidently considered it a fortunate opportunity to be transplanted into an entirely new sphere of life.

And so it was.

Manna almost envied her brother the opportunity of doing and becoming something new. She, too, would gladly have engaged in some occupation. A trait of Sonnenkamp's strange nature asserted itself within her. She wanted to go forth into the world. She was more with the Aunt than with the Professorin, who desired, if possible, to effect a speedy and fundamental cure; while the Aunt preferred to begin by a tender fostering care.

Eric and his mother pondered much upon how best to deal with Manna's restless mood, and to satisfy her longing aspirations.

So much had come upon her at once; and her love for Eric did not seem quite to compensate her for what she had lost, since at heart she still yearned for a firm support in the Church.

Weidmann came, and with him they discussed the question of waiving all ordinary considerations, and celebrating Manna's and Eric's marriage at once.

He declared that one ought never to have recourse to marriage as a remedy, but should enter into a new phase of existence with a tranquil heart, and a new joy in existence itself.

This coincided with Eric's own secret feeling, and he said to Manna, —

"Your desire to travel, to find something outside yourself, is a perfectly natural one. You miss that great other home of yours, the church, which you could visit at any time, and come back in an altered frame of mind. You want some other human being to proffer you out of his own thought and soul, and upon constituted authority, something distinct from yourself, – something which you yourself have lost. Instead of this, you have now to find your all at home and in yourself. It is hard, I know; but so it must be. So long as you seek any thing without, you are not at home with yourself. Here in this place, in these rooms where such horror overwhelmed us, we must learn to compose and control ourselves. 'Stand to your post!' is the military command; and it has also a moral significance."

With such words, and more to the same effect, did Eric lighten Manna's perplexities: she embraced and thanked him for thus entering into her very soul, and freeing her from every yoke.

Quietly and serenely the days glided by, until an invitation arrived from the Justice's wife. The Professorin accepted at once; but Manna said she could not accompany her: she was not yet chastened and calm enough to mingle with the world and submit to being received with compassion.

Eric made a sign to his mother not to urge Manna; and she was left to do as she liked.

CHAPTER VII.

BITTER ALMONDS BECOME SWEET

The Justice's wife was an object of envy in that the first coffee-party of the winter was to be at her house. It seemed hardly necessary to provide any entertainment; for who would care to eat and drink when there was so much to talk about? – of Sonnenkamp, of Bella, of the betrothal of Eric and Manna, of poor Frau Ceres, of the negro, of the Prince, of Clodwig's death. There was so much, that only a part of it could be brought into play.

At length the company assembled.

The corner of the sofa where Bella used to sit – it seemed decades ago – was shunned with a kind of superstitious dread. Frau "Lay-Figure" was so extremely fortunate as to have a story to tell about a sofa-corner. There was a physician back in the country, with a very small practice, and the sofa in his parlor had a great hole in it: so, whenever a caller came, the doctor's wife was very affable, and seated herself forthwith upon the torn place in the sofa. It was a good story enough, and Frau Lay-Figure told it well, too: and she laughed, as she generally did; for she laughed at every thing: but nobody else laughed very heartily.

Luckily, a stranger was now introduced; quite a distinguished personage, who now made her first appearance at the grand coffee-party. This was the wife of the Director of the Water-works, who, in the discharge of his duties as Rhine Commissioner, had come to reside for a short time in the little town.

The Frau Directorin of the Water-works seated herself, all unconsciously, in Bella's old place.

And now they could begin.

But who would have guessed that the covetousness of the Cabinetsräthen would be first discussed as a kind of appetizing morsel! This was the way with great people. Of course, one could get clothes from Paris by such machinations. A magnificent system of bribery indeed! Who knew what else she might have got out of Sonnenkamp, and others besides? The ladies were almost ashamed of their own virtuous stupidity.

The English lady spoke with great respect of the Americans who had purchased the villa of the Cabinetsrath.

The Consul's wife in particular, she said, belonged to one of the first families in the Northern States; for there was a decided aristocracy there, distinguished for its noble bearing. The great merchants, the millionaires of the North, were usually called "merchant-princes."

Frau White, or Frau "Coal," as she was called, gazed reverently up at the English lady. Her glance said that she considered the latter a happy woman to have any thing so well worth telling.

The Rhine Commissioner's wife had a very good time. To her they could tell the whole story of the house of Sonnenkamp; and the ladies took turns, and supplemented one another's narratives.

The wife of the cement-manufacturer wore her perpetual frown, and nodded occasionally, as if she had much to say, when, in reality, she had nothing.

Frau Lay-Figure observed, smiling sweetly, that it was very interesting to have known a slave-trader. She had often wished to see one.

"And a cannibal too!" said the wife of the steamboat-agent, who, as usual, held her cup aloft in her left hand, and dipped her cake in it from time to time. She had always the very best appetite.

"Yes, that is interesting too," assented Frau Lay-Figure, smiling so as to show her teeth.

It was remarkable that no one ventured at first to allude to Frau Bella, until the wife of the steamboat-agent told how she had gone with her eldest daughter to the dentist, and he had told her he was never so startled in his life as when the Countess von Wolfsgarten came to him, the very night Count Clodwig was so ill, to have a front tooth set.

The Doctor's wife said that Frau Bella was not guiltless of her husband's death.

All now fell upon her. She must tell them what she knew; and, before she could explain herself, Frau Lay-Figure added, —

"And no doubt Herr Sonnenkamp was guilty too! Who knows what he did?"

The good Doctor's lady turned pale; but though she protested earnestly and solemnly, that her husband had said nothing about it, that she never would have spoken if he had, they would not believe her. The Doctor's wife was exceedingly sorry, and retracted her remarks, that Bella, in a passionate outburst, had wounded deeply her husband's feelings. The mistaken declaration of the coroner, so strenuously contradicted, was revived; and they said it was evident that Frau Bella had felt herself in some way to blame, and had fled on this account.

"I pity Herr von Pranken," said Lina suddenly.

All eyes were turned upon her; and Lina quietly continued, —

"Yes, he is not so bad a man after all. He has lost his bride, and now his sister has deserted him; and for so much shame and misery to be heaped upon his head is too hard."

The wife of the Director of the Waterworks praised Lina's kind-heartedness, and wanted to know more about Bella's character. Frau Lay-Figure said she was the one to inform her; for she had a cook who had formerly lived with Bella. The latter was not bad to her servants, only capricious. She sometimes scolded them dreadfully, but made them presents afterwards, and took care to have them enjoy themselves.

A good deal of curiosity was expressed by one and another, as to whether Eric and Manna would soon marry. The death of Frau Ceres and the Priest's violent harangue were next discussed.

The steamboat-agent's wife had some further information to give about Bella's nocturnal journey. She had questioned the pilot; and universal astonishment was expressed that Bella had taken no wardrobe with her.