The Dodd Family Abroad, Vol. I

Four o'clock.

He is gone at last, – I thought he never would, – and I have only time to say that he has appointed to-morrow after breakfast, to show me the fortress, and as I am too late for the post, I 'll be able to add a line or two before this leaves me. Mary Anne has come to say that her mother's head is distracted, and that she cannot endure the uproar of the place. My reply is, "Mine is exactly in the same way; but I cannot go any further, – I 've no money."

Mrs. D. "thinks she'll go mad!" If she means it in earnest, this is as cheap a place to do it in as any I know. We are only to pay two pounds a week each, and I suppose whether we preserve our senses or not makes no difference in the expense! This would sound very unfeelingly, Tom, but that you are well aware of Mrs. D. 's system, and that she gives notice of a motion without any intention of going to a debate, much less of pressing for a "division." Mary Anne is very urgent that I should see her mother, but I am not quite equal to it yet Maybe after visiting the fortress to-morrow I'll be in a more martial mood; and now here's dinner, and a most savory odor preludes it.

Tuesday.

This must go as it is, Tom, – I 'm dead beat! That old veteran would n't let me off a casemate nor a bomb-proof, and I have walked twenty miles this blessed morning! Nor is that all; but I have handled shot, lifted cannon-balls, adjusted mortars, and peeped out of embrasures, till my back is half broken with straining and fatigue. Just to judge from what I 'm suffering, a siege must be a dreadful thing! He says be showed me everything; and, upon my conscience, I can well believe it! There was a great deal of it, too, that I saw in the dark, for there was no end of galleries without a single loophole, and many of the passages seemed only four feet high; for, though a short man, I had to stoop. I ought to have a great deal to say about this place, if I could remember it, or if I could be sure it would interest you. It appears that Rastadt is built upon an entirely new principle, quite distinct from any hitherto in use. It must be attacked en ricochet, and not directly; a hint, I suppose, they stole from our common law, where they fire into you, by pretending to assail John Doe or Richard Roe. The Commandant sneered at the old system, but I 'd rather trust myself in Gibraltar, notwithstanding all he said. It stands to reason, Tom, that if you are up in a window you have a great advantage over a fellow down in the street. Now, all these modern fortresses are what is called "à fleur d'eau" quite level, and not raised in the least over the attacking force. Put me up high, say I; if on a parapet, so much the better; and besides, Tom, nothing gives a man such coolness as to know that he is all as one as out of danger! Of course, I did n't make this remark to the Commandant, because in talking with military people it is good tact always to assume that being shot at is rather pleasant than otherwise; and so I have observed that they themselves generally make use of some jocular phrase or other to express being killed and wounded; "he was knocked over," "he got an ugly poke," being the more popular mode of recording what finished a man's existence, or made the remainder of it miserable.

Soldiering has always struck me as an insupportable line of life. I have no objection in the world to fight the man who has injured me, nor to give satisfaction where I have been the offender; but to go patiently to work to learn how to destroy somebody I never saw and never heard of, does seem absurd and unchristianlike altogether. You say, "He is the enemy of my country, and, consequently, mine." Let me see that; let me be sure of it. If he invades us, I know that he is an enemy; but if he is only occupied about his own affairs, – if he is simply hunting out a nest of old squatters that he is tired of, – if he is merely changing the sign of his house, and instead of the "Lily" prefers to live under the "Cock," or maybe the "Drone-bee," what have I to say to that? So long as he stays at home, and only "gets drunk on the premises," I have no right to meddle with him. It's all very well to say that nobody likes to have a disorderly house in his neighborhood. Very true; but you ought n't to go in and murder the residents to keep them quiet. There 's the mail gone by, and I have forgotten to send this off. It's a wonderful thing how living in Germany makes a man long-winded and tiresome. It must be the air, at least with me, or the cookery, for I am perfectly innocent of the language. The "mysterious gutturals," as Macaulay calls them, will ever be mysteries to me! At all events, to prevent further indiscretions, I 'll close this and seal it now. And so, with my sincere regards, believe me, dear Tom, ever yours,

Kenny I. Dodd.

Address me, "Golden Ox," – I mean at the sign of, – Rastadt, for you 're sure of finding me here for the next four weeks at least.

LETTER XXXV. MARY ANNE DODD TO MISS DOOLAN, OF BALLYDOOLAN

"The Golden Ox," Rastadt

My dearest kitty, – I have only time for a few and very hurried lines, written with trembling fingers and a heart audible in its palpitations! Yes, dearest, an eventful moment has arrived, – the dread instant has come, on which my whole future destiny must depend. It was last night, just as I was making papa's tea, that a servant arrived on horseback at the inn with a letter addressed to the Right Honorable and Reverend the Lord Dodd de Dodsborough. This, of course, could only mean papa, and so he opened and read it, for it was in English, dearest, or at least in imitation of that language.

I refrain from quoting the precise expressions, lest in circumstances so serious a smile of passing levity should cross those dear features, now all tension with anxiety for your own Mary Anne. The letter was from Adolf von Wolfenschafer, making me an offer of his hand, title, and fortune! I swooned away when I heard it, and only recovered to hear papa still spelling out the strange phraseology of the letter.

I wish he had not written in English, Kitty. It is provoking that an event so naturally serious in itself should be alloyed with the dross of grammatical absurdities; besides that, really, our tongue does not lend itself to those delicate and half-vanishing allusions to future bliss so germane to such a proposal. Papa, and James, too, I must say, evinced a want of regard to my feelings, and an absence of that fine sympathy which I should have looked for at a moment like this. They actually screamed with laughter, Kitty, at little lapses of orthography, when the subject might reasonably have imposed far different emotions.

"Why, it's a proposal of marriage!" exclaimed papa, "and I thought it a summons from the police."

"Egad, so it is!" cried James. "It's an offer to you, Mary Anne. 'The Baron Adolf von Wolfenschàfer, Frei-herr von Schweinbraten and Ritter of the Order of the Cock of Tubingen, maketh hereby, and not the less, that with future-coming-time-to-be-proved-and-experienced affection, the profound humility of an offer of himself, with all his to-be-named-and-enumerated belongings, both in effects and majorats, to the lovely and very beautiful Miss, the first daughter of the Venerable and very Honorable the Lord Dodd de Dodsborough.'"

"Pray stop, James," said I; "this is scarcely a fitting matter for coarse jesting, nor is my heart to be made the theme for indelicate banter."

"The letter is a gem," said he, and went on: "'The so-named A. von W., overflowing with a mild but in-heaven-soaring and never-to-earth-descending love, expecteth, in all the pendulating anxieties of a never-at-any-moment-to-be-distrusted devotion – '"

"Papa, I really beg and request that I may not be trifled with in this unfeeling manner. The Baron's intentions are sufficiently clear and explicit, nor are we now engaged in the work of correcting his English epistolary style."

This I said haughtily, Kitty; and Mister James at last thought proper to recover some respect for my feelings.

"Why, I never suspected you could take the thing seriously, dear Mary Anne," said he. "If I only thought – "

"And pray, why not, James? I'm sure the Baron's ancient birth – his rank, his fortune – his position, in fact – "

"Of all of which we know nothing," broke in papa.

"But of which you may know everything," said I; "for here, at the postscript, is an invitation to us all to pass some weeks at the Schloss, in the Black Forest, his ancestral seat."

"Or, as he styles it," broke in James, impertinently, "'the very old castle, where for numerous centuries his high-blooded and on-lofty-eminence-standing ancestors did sit,' and where now 'his with-years-bestricken but not-the-less-on-that-account-sharp with-intelligence-begifted parent father doth reside.'"

"Read that again, James," said papa.

"Pray allow me, sir," said I, taking the letter. "The invitation is a most hospitable request that we should go and pass some time at his chateau, and name the earliest day our convenience will permit for the visit."

"He spoke of capital shooting there!" cried James. "He told me that the Auer-Hahu, a kind of black-cock, abounds in that country."

"And I remember, too, that he mentioned some wonderful Steinberger, – a cabinet wine, full two hundred years in wood!" chimed in papa.

I wished, dearest Kitty, that they could have entertained the subject-matter of the letter without these "contingent remainders," and not mix up my future fate with either wine or wild fowl; but they really were so carried away by the pleasures so peculiarly adapted to their own feelings that they at once said, and in a breath too, "Write him word 'Yes,' by all means!"

"Do you mean for his offer of marriage, papa?" asked I, with struggling indignation.

"By George, I had forgotten all about that," said he. "We must deliberate a bit. Your mother, too, will expect to be consulted. Take the letter upstairs to her; or, better still, just say that I want to speak to her myself."

As papa and mamma had not met nor spoken together since his return, I willingly embraced this opportunity of restoring them to intercourse with each other.

"Don't go away, Mary Anne," said James, as I was about to seek my own room, for I dreaded being left alone, and exposed to his unfeeling banter; "I want to speak to you." This he said with a tone of kindness and interest which at once decided me to remain. He wore a look of seriousness, Kitty, that I have seldom, if ever, seen in his features, and spoke in a tone that, to my ears, was new from him.

"Let me be your friend, Mary Anne," said he, "and the better to be so, let me talk to you in all frankness and sincerity. If I say one single word that can hurt your feelings, put it down to the true account, – that I 'd rather do even such than suffer you to take the most eventful step in all your life without weighing every consequence of it Answer me, then, two or three questions that I shall ask you, but as truly and unreservedly as though you were at confession."

I sat down beside him, and with my hand in his.

"Now, first of all, Mary Anne," said he, "do you love this Baron von Wolfenschafer?"

Who ever could answer such a question in one word, Kitty? How seldom does it occur in life that all the circumstances of any man's position respond to the ambitious imaginings of a girl's heart! He may be handsome, and yet poor; he may be rich, and yet low-born; intellectual, and yet his great gifts may be alloyed with infirmities of temper; he may be coldly natured, secret, self-contained, uncommunicative, – a hundred things that one does not like, – and yet, with all these drawbacks, what the world calls an "excellent match."

I believe very few people marry the person they wish to marry. I fancy that such instances are the rarest things imaginable. It is a question of compensation throughout, – you accept this, notwithstanding that; you put up with that, for the sake of this! Of course, dearest, I am rejecting here all belief in the "greatest happiness principle" as a stupid fallacy, that only imposes upon elderly gentlemen when they marry their housekeeper. I speak of the considerations which weigh with a young girl who has moved in society, who knows its requirements, and can estimate all that contributes to what is called a "position."

This little digression of mine will give you to understand what was passing in my mind as James sat waiting for my reply.

"So, then," said he, at last, "the question is not so easily answered as I suspected; and we will now pass to another one. Are your affections already engaged elsewhere?"

What could I say, Kitty, but "No! decidedly not." The embarrassment, however, so natural to an inquiry like this, made me blush and seem confused; and James, perceiving it, said, —

"Poor fellow, it will be a sad blow to him, for I know he loved you."

I tried to look astonished, angry, unconscious, – anything, in fact, which should convey displeasure and surprise together; but with that want of tact so essentially fraternal, he went on, —

"It was almost the last thing he said to me at parting, 'Don't let her forget me!'"

"May I venture to inquire," said I, haughtily, "of whom you are speaking?"

Simple and inoffensive as the words were, Kitty, they threw him into an ungovernable passion; he stamped, and stormed, and swore fearfully. He called me "a heartless coquette," "an unfeeling flirt," and a variety of epithets equally mellifluous as well merited.

I drew my embroidery-frame before me quite calmly under this torrent of abuse, and worked away at my pattern of the "Faithful Shepherd," singing to myself all the time.

"Are you really as devoid of feeling as this, Mary Anne?" asked he.

"My dear brother," said I, "don't you wish excessively for a commission in a regiment of Hussars or Lancers? Well, as your great merits have not been recognized at the Horse Guards, would you feel justified in refusing an appointment to the Rifle Brigade?"

"What has all this to say to what we are discussing?" cried he, angrily.