The Quest

The hostess? – 'Twas malice toward her!

"A crab who enjoyed a joke,
Gave his mama a kick.
And when she dropped at his poke,
He laughed till the tears fell thick."

"Hey, there!" the little girls shouted boisterously. "Jolly! More, more! Jo!"

"A stock-fish, deaf-and-dumb born,
Once said to a billy-goat:
'Of my head I see I am shorn —
'Twas you did it, silly goat!'"

"There, there, Johannes! That will do. Now you are getting foolish," said the mother.

"Oh, no, Mama! Only funny!" cried Frieda and Olga. "He is so funny! Go on, Jo!"

But Johannes was quite disconcerted by the mother's comment, and there was no further exposition of "Sketches from Animal Life."

In the evening Johannes drove with the countess in the state-coach to Lady Crimmetart's. Milady dwelt in a very handsome house – a castle in a large park. From a distance, Johannes could see the brightly lighted windows, and also the vehicles in front of the pillars, at the entrance.

Overhead, an awning was spread, and a long strip of heavy, bright-red carpeting laid down, so that the guests might be protected in passing from their carriages to the magnificent vestibule. The way was lined with lackeys – full twenty on each side. They looked very impressive, all of them tall and heavy, wearing knee-breeches of yellow plush, and red lace-trimmed coats. Johannes was puzzled because they all seemed to be such old men. Their hair was white as snow. That was powder, however, and it added to their dignity. How small and shabby Johannes felt while running the gauntlet of those liveried lackeys!

Indoors, Johannes was completely blinded by the dazzling light. He ascended a vaulted staircase, the broad steps of which were of many-colored marble. He saw vaguely, flowers, electric lamps, variegated carpets, broad, conspicuously white expanses of shirt-linen bordered with black coat, and bare necks adorned with gems and white lace. He heard a subdued murmur of soft voices, the rustling of silk clothing, the announcement of names.

In the background, at the top of the stairs, the swollen visage of Lady Crimmetart was glowing like a railway danger-signal. All the guests went up to her, and their names being spoken, each one received a bow and a handshake.

"What name, sir?" asked a colossal lackey, as he bent obliquely over Johannes. Johannes stammered out something, but the countess repeated it, changed.

"Professor Johannes, of Holland!" he heard called out. He bowed, received a handshake, and saw the powdered face smiling – or grinning – with affected sweetness. Lady Crimmetart's neck and arms were so fat and bare that Johannes was nearly terrified by them, and did not dare look straight. They were loaded with precious stones – big, flat, square, uniformly cut diamonds, alternating with pear-shaped pearls. Three white ostrich feathers bobbed in her head-dress. There were no animals at her side, but of course she had her fan and her gold-headed crutch.

"How do you do?" inquired the deep voice. But before Johannes could reply that he was pretty well, she addressed herself, with a grinning smile, to the next comer. Beside her stood a short, heavily built man. He had a shiny, bald head, a red face with deeply cut lines, and a large, bony nose. It was precisely such a head as one sees carved upon knobs of walking-sticks and parasols. It was Lord Crimmetart who stood there, and he gave Johannes' hand a firm clasp.

For an hour or so Johannes wandered about in the midst of the crowd. He felt dispirited and lonesome to begin with; and the babel of voices, the sheen and rustle of silken garments, the glitter of lights and of precious stones, the uniforms, bare necks, and white shirt-fronts, and the heavy scent of perfumery and of flowers, – all this oppressed him until he became deeply dejected. There was such a press of people that at times he could not stir, and the ladies and gentlemen talked straight into his face. How he longed for a quiet corner and an every-day companion! Everybody except himself had something to say. There was no one among those passing by so forlorn as he. He did not understand what they all could be saying to one another. The scraps of conversation that did reach him were about the stir in the room and the magnificence of the party. But the saying of that was not the reason for their having come together.

Johannes felt that the feast of the elves in the dunes had been far more pleasant.

Then, strains of music reached him from a stringed orchestra hidden behind green laurel. That awakened longings almost painful, and he drew closer, to sit down, unobserved, and let the people stream by. There he sat, with moistened eyes, looking dreamily out before him, while his thoughts dwelt upon quiet dunes and sounding seas on a moonlit night.

"Professor Johannes, let me introduce you to Professor von Pennewitz," rang suddenly in his ears. He rose to his feet startled. There stood Lady Crimmetart beside a diminutive man, whose scanty grey locks hung down to his coat-collar. The vision was little like Johannes' dream.

"This is a youthful prodigy, Professor von Pennewitz – a young poet who recites his own compositions. At the same time he is a famous medium. You certainly will have interesting things to say to each other."

Thereupon, Lady Crimmetart disappeared again among the other guests, leaving the two bowing to each other – Johannes abashed and perplexed, von Pennewitz bowing and rubbing his hands together, teetering up and down on his toes, and smiling.

"Now for the examination!" thought Johannes, waiting in mute patience – a victim to whatever wise questions the great man was to pillory him with.

"Have you – ah – known the family here for long?" asked von Pennewitz – opening and closing his thin lips with a sipping sound, while with fingers affectedly spread, he adjusted his eyeglasses, peering over the tops of them at Johannes.

"No, I do not know them at all!" replied Johannes, shaking his head.

"No?" said von Pennewitz, rubbing and wringing his hands, most cheerfully. And then he continued, in broken English:

"Well, well! That pleases me. Neither do I. Curious people! Do you not think so, young man?"

Johannes, somewhat encouraged by this affability, gave a hesitating assent.

"Have you such types in Holland, also? Surely upon a more modest scale? Ha! ha! ha! – These people are astonishingly rich! Have you tried their champagne? – No? Then you must just come with me to the buffet. It is worth the trouble, I can assure you."

Happy, now, to be at least walking with some one, Johannes followed the little man, who piloted him through the packed mass of people.

Arrived at the buffet they drank of the sparkling wine.

"But, sir," said Johannes, "I have heard that Lady Crimmetart is so very clever."

"Have you, indeed?" said the Professor, looking again at Johannes over the top of his glasses, and nodding his head. "I have nothing to say about that. Much traveled – papa a hoarding-house keeper – a smattering of almost everything. Nowadays one can get a good deal out of the newspapers. Do you read the papers, young man?"

"Not much, sir," said Johannes.

"Good! Be cautious about it. Let me give you some extra-good advice. Read few newspapers, and eat few oysters. Especially in Rome eat no oysters. I have just come from a fatal case of poisoning – a Roman student."

Johannes mentally resolved, on the spot, to eat anything in Rome rather than oysters.

"Is Lord Crimmetart also so clever, Professor?" asked Johannes.

"He is bright enough. In order to become a Lord and an arch-millionaire by means of patent pills alone, one needs to be a bright rascal. Just try it! Ha! ha! ha!"

The professor laughed heartily, snorted and sniffed, clicked his false teeth, and finished off his glass. Then he said:

"But take care, young man, that you do not marry before you have made your pile. That was a stupid move of his. He would be able to do very much better now. If he chose, he might win Countess Dolores."

The blood rushed to Johannes' head, and he flushed deeply,

"I am staying there, sir!" said he, considerably touched.

"Is that so? Is that so?" replied the professor, in a propitiatory tone. "But I said nothing about her, you know. A most charming woman. A perfect beauty. So she is your hostess? Well, well, well!"

"There is His Grace, the bishop!" cried the heavy voice of Lady Crimmetart, as she passed by, hurrying toward the entrance.

Johannes was on the qui vive for the white mitre and the gilded crozier, but he could see only a tall, ordinary gentleman in a black suit, and wearing gaiters. He had a smooth, good-looking face, that bore an affected smile; and in his hand he held a curious, flat hat, the brim of which was held up with cords, as if otherwise it might droop down over his nose. Lady Crimmetart received him quite as warmly as Aunt Seréna received the dominie. How Johannes wished he was still at his Aunt Seréna's!

"Sir!" said some one at his ear, "Milady wishes to know if you have brought your instrument, and if you will not begin now."

Johannes looked round, in a fright. He saw a portly personage with an upstroked moustache, in black satin short-clothes, and a red coat – evidently a master of ceremonies.

"I have no instrument," stammered Johannes. But he did have his castanets in his pocket. "I cannot do anything," he repeated – most miserable.

The pompous one glanced right and left, as if he had made some mistake. Then he stepped away a moment, to return soon, accompanied by Countess Dolores.