Clara Viebig

“ The loose sand had been settled, a cool freshness rose up out of the earth, one could smell the trees and bushes; a fragrance of flowers ascended from the beds in the gardens that the darkness had swallowed up. Wolfgang drew a deep breath of delight and whistled softly; his heart was full of peace and joy; now it was a good thing he was not wandering about in Berlin. It had been so nice with Frida. What a lot they had had to talk about--and then--he was really awfully pleased to be able to help Frau Lämke a little. ”

“ At night, when the house was so quiet that the ticking of the big clock sounded like peals of thunder and her husband's snores like a saw-mill hard at work, Mrs. Tiralla would sit by her child's bed. She would hold her hand--a small, narrow, delicate-looking hand with blue veins--and they would whisper together about the joys of Paradise. Whilst all around was joyless--the dark night, the lonely farm buried in deep snow, the solitude in which a soul so often gets lost--those two would whisper together about the joys of Paradise--about nothing else. ”

“ Did the fear drive out love? He reviewed his own conduct; he really could not reproach himself for having been too strict. If he had not always been so yielding as Käte--she was too yielding--he had always thought he had repeatedly shown the boy that he was fond of him. And had he not also--just lately--thought the boy was fond of him too? More fond of him than before? Wolfgang had just grown sensible, had seen that they had his welfare at heart, that he was his parents' dear son, their ever-increasing delight, their hope--nay, now that they had grown old, their whole future. ”

“ Sophia Kluge was modest; no young fellow in the neighbourhood could boast of being in her good graces. She did not even know why the lads and lasses used to steal out into the fields in the evenings, and why their tender songs should rise so plaintively to the starry skies. Sophia, with the black eyes and white face, which no sun, no country air had ever tanned, for she had always remained at home with her mother, was a pious child, so pious that the priest, still a young man with saint-like face, took a great deal of notice of her. ”

“ Wolfgang was not the child in which she and her husband were united in body and soul--he was and would remain of alien blood. And he had an alien soul. Poor son!
All at once a discerning compassion shot up in the heart of the woman, who for days, weeks, months, even years, had felt nothing but bitterness and mortification, ay, many a time even something like revolt against the one who thus disturbed her days. How could she be so very angry with him, who was not bound to his parents' house by a hundred ties? ”

“ The night time, the moaning of the wind, the plaintive cry of the screech-owls perched in the old pines in the morass; above all, the darkness of the room, the deep silence, the loneliness, gave wings to the maid's fancy. Everything became instinct with life: a creature sighed in every tree, a voice spoke from every stone, something gasped for air under every clod of earth, something lurked in every pool. The branches that tapped against the window-panes were the fingers of the dead, the stars that shot across the heavens were wandering souls, and the clouds and winds were full of prophecies. ”

“ Wolfgang's thoughts went along paths of their own; not along those prescribed there. He had many sensations, but he could not keep hold of any; he was lost in thought. He saw a bit of the sky through a square in the window-pane, and the flitting figures of his father, mother, Frida, his masters and school-fellows appeared to him in it. But they all glided past, no vision remained. All at once he felt quite alone among all that crowd of people.
When his turn came he stepped mechanically up to the altar with Kullrich beside him; Lehmann and Kesselborn were in front of him. ”

“ Rosa's tears were tears of ecstatic rapture and longing, of a great longing for something she could not name--the dear Virgin, the dear little Child Jesus, the dear guardian angel and all the dear saints. She knew them all; she knew the history of every martyr that now wore a halo. Her mother had read about them aloud to her again and again from the book of holy legends that she had brought out of the gaily painted chest in which she, as a girl, had kept her belongings.
How splendid it must be to live like those holy women. ”

“ The stronger smell of the coffee, which Frau Lämke was making in the large enamelled pot, mingled with the delicate fragrance of the pale monthly rose and carnation, myrtle and geranium, which had been pushed close to the window that was almost level with the ground and were all in flower. At home Wolfgang never got coffee, but he got some there; and he sipped it as he saw the others do, only he was even more delighted with it than they. And no fine pastry had ever tasted so good as did that plain bun, that was more like bread than like a cake. ”

“ Mrs. Tiralla was standing before her glass upstairs looking at her pale, disfigured face. She felt overcome with shame, a shame that was even greater than her terror. What must the maid have thought of her? Dark lines under her eyes, her hair dishevelled, her face all mottled. Oh, God! She had submitted to it all--and he was still alive. She was seized with a violent fit of fury, she would have liked to destroy everything, smash everything to pieces. Pressing her clenched fists against her forehead she uttered a deep groan. She was the one who had been deceived, she always was. ”

“ They came to Schildhorn. The red glow of evening lay across the water; the sun could no longer be seen in all its splendour, a dusky, melancholy peace lay over the Havel and the pines. Käte had never thought the wood was so large. All at once she shivered: ah, the cemetery where they buried the suicides lay over there. She did not like to look in that direction, she pressed her eyes together nervously. All at once a young lad moved across her mental vision--young and fresh and yet ruined already--many a mother's son. ”

“ Martin's thoughts were far away, he was longing to leave Starydwór, leave it far behind him; and Mikolai was also deep in thought.
The happiness that Mikolai had felt during the summer was a thing of the past. Although a farm of one's own is not to be despised, he would much rather be servant somewhere else than master at Starydwór. How awful his father was! Why, he was out of his mind! If only he could catch that fellow Böhnke by the throat, he thought to himself, clenching his fists in fury. Why did he come creeping to the farm day after day, locking himself in with his father? ”

“ The blast roars across the moor like the sound of an organ or is it like the roar of the foaming breakers? No, there is no water there that rises and falls and washes the beach with its white waves, there is nothing but the Venn; but it resembles the sea in its wide expanse. [Pg 62] And its air is as strong as the air that blows from the sea, and the shrill scream of its birds is like the scream of the sea-mew, and nature plays--here as there--the song of her omnipotence on the organ of the storm with powerful touch.
The small carriage crept over the top of the high Venn. ”

“ Mrs. Tiralla sat motionless at the back with her cloak wrapped tightly round her, for she was icy cold. She had drawn her shawl far down over her forehead, but her burning eyes wandered in mute despair over the desolate, slushy fields in the early morning twilight. Oh, how uncomfortable she felt, how tired out. She couldn't understand now why she had wanted to go to the ball instead of lying in her warm bed and being lulled to sleep by Rosa's soft-toned prayers, and thus forgetting her miserable existence in the arms of the saints. ”

“ Who would fill the house and garden with his laughter, with that careless laughter that is so infectious? Who would kiss them with warm lips, and make them happy by his tenderness? Who would carry them on his wings with him, so that they did not feel they were weary?
Alas, there is no second youth for those who are childless. Nobody would come into the inheritance of delight in what was beautiful, of taste for what was beautiful, of enthusiasm for art and artists which they would leave behind them. ”

“ How slowly the night crept on, would it never, never be day? How quietly Rosa was breathing. She was sleeping so well. Oh, to be a child once more, an innocent child who knows nothing of Life's wickedness.
Mrs. Tiralla was filled with an intense longing for innocence and purity, for a blameless, peaceful life. She would go to confession as soon as possible next morning. She would confess everything, so that she could breathe once more as quietly as her child. Even at the last examination of conscience she had not been able to find the right expression for what was stirring in her heart. ”

“ And Wolfgang envied fat Hans at whom they had all laughed so much, the girl he was engaged to more than anyone else. He also wanted to have a girl hanging on his arm. It need not even be such a nice-looking girl as Frida--as long as it was a girl. The dusk of the wood, which was so nice and quiet, seemed positively to hold out inviting arms to him. And a smell of satiation, an abundant fulfilment, rose out of the earth that evening, although it was so poor--nothing but sand. Wolfgang felt a wish to live and love, an eager desire for pleasure and enjoyment. ”

“ Rosa had never had a picture of the Saviour over her bed, nothing but a vessel containing holy water and some consecrated palm branches, but at that moment a picture shone on the bare wall which had never been there before. She stared at it in a transport of joy, and her eyes grew bigger and bigger; her lips faltered as she prayed, and she heaved a deep sigh--there--there--Jesus Christ! How Martin Becker resembled Him in every feature, and how He smiled at her.
The expression in the girl's face grew more and more ecstatic ”

“ Hitherto Wolfgang had never been conscious of the fact that he would never be any good as a merchant; now he knew it. No, he did not like it, he could not go on being a merchant. Everyone must surely become what nature has meant him to be.
He would say it in the morning--no, he would not go to the office any more, he would not do it any longer. He would be free. He leant out of the window once more, and scented the damp, pleasant smell that rose up out of the soaked earth with distended nostrils, panting greedily like a thirsty stag. ”

“ All the aversion, all the hatred she had ever felt for her husband was nothing compared with this intense, blazing passion that raged within her. How was she to avenge herself? If only she had the poison which she, like a fool, had given back to him. Then she would have rushed downstairs and calmly, quite calmly, poured some of the white powder into his half-open mouth whilst he was lying in his bed snoring. It would have acted, she felt sure of that. The saints would not let innocent animals die, but they would look on with a smile when the devils carried Mi. Tiralla's soul off to hell. ”

“ Käte shuddered. What inexorableness, what obstinacy lay in that "I will"--"I must!" He would never stop asking again. She sank down as though crushed, and shuddered.
Even the man's quiet voice betrayed a secret tremor. "Dear boy, somebody--I will not ask who, there are always enough gossips and abettors--has again put something into your head. Why do you treat us as if we were your enemies? Haven't we always been like a father and mother to you?" ”

“ Mikolai had gone out somewhat earlier. He had stood a short time at the front door whistling softly, but when the whistling had ceased and Marianna's clatter was no longer heard in the kitchen, the two had nodded to each other with a smile, as much as to say, "We understand," and had also got up from their seats and gone out as the others had done.
They wandered slowly along hand-in-hand. Mrs. Tiralla never dreamt of fearing that anybody should see them; she walked calmly along in her light-coloured dress that could be seen afar off in the flat fields in spite of the twilight. ”

“ It had quite lately been evening--midnight--and now the clock on the mantel-piece already struck a short, clear, hard one.
The lonely woman pressed her hands to her temples with a shudder. How they throbbed, and how her thoughts--torturing thoughts--hurried along, madly, restlessly, like the hasty tick of the clocks.
Everybody in the house was asleep--the manservant, the maids, her husband too--long ago. Only she, she alone had not found any sleep as yet. ”

“ Tiralla kept an obstinate silence; she seemed so low-spirited that the men involuntarily became low-spirited, too--that is, Mr. Tiralla and Mikolai. Becker's eyes were fixed on his plate; he was quiet and happy, and ate with a good appetite. What did he care if the woman was in a bad humour? Let the old man and Mikolai dance to her piping, he would not. And then the thought came to him that a girl like Rosa would never want to order about, and that a man would fare well with a wife like her: always united, and many children, and, and--he did not get any further. ”

“ They flowed past her like a stream, and she was carried with them. Figures surged round her like waves--rustling dresses that smelt strongly of scent, and gentlemen, men, young and old, old men and youths, some of whom were hardly more than boys. It was like a corso there--what were they all seeking? So this was Berlin's much-talked-of and amusing life at night? It was awful, oh, unspeakably horrible.
Suddenly Käte saw everything from one point of view only. Hitherto she had been blind, as unsuspicious as a child. A policeman's helmet came into sight. ”

“ But the saints had not willed it; the maid, that idiot! had upset the coffee, and her husband had not got a single drop of it. What a pity, thought Mrs. Tiralla regretfully. How could she have felt so happy that morning when she saw her husband sitting at the breakfast-table safe and sound? He grew more and more repugnant to her every day. How long--how long would she have to bear it? Had Heaven no understanding? So many husbands died and left wives to weep and mourn for them, and he--he--she wouldn't shed a single tear for him, she was sure of that. She would laugh, laugh! ”

“ Did his soul seek the home he did not know in his dreams? that he could not even know about, and that still had such a powerful influence that it drew him there even unconsciously?
Käte stood at Wolfgang's bedside tortured by such an anxiety as she had never felt before: a mother and still not mother. Alas, she was only a strange woman at the bedside of a strange child. ”

“ They were quite alone, quite hidden. A deep silence reigned, save for a land-rail piping in the corn, and a deer calling deep down in the Przykop--and still he controlled himself. Everything was so different at Starydwór to what it was elsewhere.
Martin had not come to his age without having held a girl in his arms--as an apprentice at the mill at home and more especially as a soldier--but a woman like this one had never been his. For one short moment a feeling of regret filled his heart at the thought that it might perhaps have been still nicer with Rosa. ”

“ They had bundled it into the carriage--quick, quick--the coachman had whipped up the horses, the wheels had turned round with a creaking noise. The village in the Venn remained behind them, buried like a bad dream one wants to forget.
A dull grey lay over the Venn. The sun, which had been shining in the morning, had quite disappeared, as though not a single beam had ever been seen there. The Venn mist, which rises so suddenly, was there covering everything. There was a wall now where there had been a wide outlook before. A wall not of stone and not of bricks, but much stronger. ”

“ The early summer sun was shining down on the immense plains; the fine-looking ears of corn that swayed to and fro were already about as high as a man. The clover lay cut in the meadows, and emitted a powerful smell as it dried quickly in the sun. The air was full of a continuous buzzing of insects that glistened like gold, and of the trills of invisible larks. The blessing of a promising harvest lay spread over the broad fields as far as Starydwór, and everywhere [Pg 222] as far as the eye could see. But Mr. Tiralla's heart did not rejoice as a farmer's should have done. ”

“ Käte had grown grey. In the three years that had elapsed since her son's confirmation she had changed considerably outwardly. Whilst Wolfgang had grown taller and stronger and broader like a young tree, her figure had drooped like a flower that is heavy with rain or is about to wither. Her fine features had remained the same, but her skin, which had retained almost the delicate smoothness of a young girl's for so long, had become looser; her eyes looked as if she had wept a great deal. Her acquaintances found Frau Schlieben had grown much older. ”

“ What could it be so late at night? She ran out of the room in her petticoat with no shoes on her feet; she was seized with a sudden fear--Martin, if it were Martin who wanted to run away. She must go to him, take hold of him, cling to him, he must not go! But then the thought struck her that there was no need to fear, he would not be leaving with so much noise. But still, if Mikolai were holding him, if they were quarrelling, struggling with each other, the one wanting to go, the other endeavouring to hold him back? Hark, what a noise! How Mikolai was shouting! ”