Engelhardt

“ There was life in Engelhardt yet, though for some time he lay as good as dead. The thing that revived him was the name of Naomi Pryse on the lips of the late ringer of the Taroomba shed. The piano-tuner listened for more without daring to open his eyes or to move a muscle. And more came with a horrifying flow of foul words.
"She had the lip to sack me! But I'll be even with her before the night's out. Yes, by cripes, by sunrise she'll wish she'd never been born!"
"It's not the girl we're after," said Bill's voice, with a pause and a spit. "It's the silver." ”

“ Was it a dead body or a man asleep? There would have been no immediate knowing had not the crow been advancing between the setting sun and the man. Its shadow was a yard long when it [Pg 155] came between Engelhardt's eyes, which were wide open, and the patch of sand that was warm with his breath. An instant later the crow was away with a hoarse scream, and Engelhardt was sitting up with a still hoarser oath upon his lips ”

“ In fact, a couple of tramps were approaching, swag on back, with the slow swinging stride of their kind. Engelhardt colored hotly as he recognized the ruffians of the day before. They were walking on opposite sides of the track, and as the buggy cut between them the fat man unpocketed one hand and saluted them as they passed.
"Not got a larger size yet?" he shouted out. "Why, that ain't a man at all!"
The poor piano-tuner felt red to his toes, and held his tongue with exceeding difficulty. But, as usual, Naomi and her laugh came to his rescue. ”

“ Had some sleep?"
"Any quantity," said Engelhardt, with a [Pg 45] laugh that slipped into a yawn. "I feel another man."
"How's the arm?"
"I don't feel to have one. I suppose it's broken, is it?"
"No, my boy, only dislocated. So Miss Pryse said when she fixed it up, and she knows all about that sort of thing. How's the head?"
"Right as the bank!"
"I don't believe you. You're the color of candles. If you feel fit to get up, after you've had something to eat, I'm to give you a hand; but if I were you I'd lie in."
"Die first," cried the piano-tuner, laughing heartily with his white face. ”

“ Engelhardt, and he will believe me, but he will not understand. No reasonable person could understand that a sane man would throw away the governorship for a fish. Good-by.”
At that Walter looked up with the nice beaming smile which makes him so popular and said pleasantly: “Good-by, Mr. Spafford. Sorry you have to go. It would be nice to be governor, Mr. Spafford, but it’s necessary to finish the job I’m on.” And in two minutes more the dumfounded youth was in a canoe between Henri and Godin, and the paddles were flashing down-stream beyond the Golden Pool. ”

“ Then the towering sun struck down through the skylight, setting light to the silver, and brushing the girl's hair as she leant forward, so that it shone like spun copper. From that moment the piano-tuner could only and slavishly admire; but he was not allowed much time for this slightly perilous recreation. Abruptly, impulsively, as she did most things, Naomi raised her face and gave him a nod.
"Now, Mr. Engelhardt, it's your turn to talk. I've done my share. Who are you, where do you come from, and what's your ambition in life? It really is time I knew something more about you." ”

“ Nor were there any windows; the piano-tuner walked right round to see, and on coming back to the door (a remarkably strong one) there was Naomi fitting in her key. She was wearing an old black dress, an obvious item of her cast-off mourning, and over it, from her bosom to her toes, a brilliantly white apron, which struck Engelhardt as the most charming garment he had ever seen.
"Good business!" she cried at sight of him. "I know how you are from Mr. Chester. Just hold these things while I take both hands to this key; it always is so stiff." ”

“ You call yourself a bloomin' man! I'd make a better bloomin' man than you with bloomin' baccy-ash. Out of the light, you cripple, an' the thing'll be done in half the time you take talking about it!"
Engelhardt was left sitting between Simons and the ill-used Bo's'n. The latter had his grumble out, but Bill took no more account of him. As for the shearer, the ferocity of his attitude toward the doomed youth was now second to none. ”

“ It was a gold watch, and he set it down carelessly on the dressing-table, where the candle shone upon the monogram on its back.
"He has nothing of his own?" queried [Pg 136] Engelhardt, with jealous eyes upon the watch.
"Not a red cent," said Tom Chester, contemptuously. "He lived upon the old boss, and of course he meant to live upon his daughter after him. He was as poor as a church-mouse."
So indeed was the piano-tuner. He did not say as much, however, though the words had risen to his lips. He said no more until the overseer was actually in bed. ”

“ And he kicked Engelhardt in the side with his flat foot.
"Easy, mate, easy. The beggar's dying!"
"All the better! If he don't look slippy about it I'll take an' slit his throat for him!"
"Well, give him a drop o' water first."
"Ay, give 'im a drink, whether or no," put in Simons. "No tortures, mate! The plain thing's good enough for me."
"And me, too!"
"Why, Bo's'n," cried Bill, "you've got no more spunk than a blessed old ewe! [Pg 160] You sailors and shearers are plucky fine chaps to go mates with in a job like ours! You wouldn't have done for poor old Tigerskin!" ”

“ They started whisperin' the moment they thought we'd sheered off."
"They're not whisperin' now," said Simons, at the keyhole. "By cripes, let's burst the door in!"
"Hold on," said Bill. "If they're not born fools they'll listen to reason. Out o' the light, matey. See here, ladies, if you walk out now you may live to spin the yarn, but if you don't—" He broke away into nameless blasphemies.
The cruel voice came hoarse and hot through the keyhole. Engelhardt opened his mouth to reply, but Naomi clapped a warm palm upon it, and with the other hand signalled silence to Mrs. Potter. ”

“ They turned and saw a huge fellow drag out an unshorn sheep by the leg, and fling it against his moleskins with a clearly unnecessary violence and cruelty.
"Come on, Mr. Engelhardt," said Naomi, in her driest tones; "I have a word to say to the ringer of the shed. I rather think he won't ring much longer."
They walked on and watched the long man at his work. It was the work of a ruffian. The shearer next him had started on [Pg 93] a new sheep simultaneously, and was on farther than the brisket when the ringer had reached the buttocks. ”

“ He had published in Copenhagen Thorsbjerg Mosefund, 1863; Nydam Mosefund, 1865. Engelhardt's work at Nydam was interrupted by the war of 1864: the finds had to be ceded to Germany, and the exploration was continued by German scholars. Engelhardt consoled himself that these "subsequent investigations ... do not seem to have been carried on with the necessary care and intelligence," and continued his own researches within the narrowed frontiers of Denmark, publishing two monographs on the mosses of Fünen: Kragehul Mosefund, 1867 ”

“ Human nature could endure no more. Instead of drinking, Engelhardt knocked the man's hand up, and made a sudden grab [Pg 161] at the water-bag. He got it, too, and had swallowed a mouthful before it was plucked away from him. The oaths came pouring out of Bill's mouth like sheep racing through a gate. But the piano-tuner had tasted what was more to him than blood, and he made a second dash at the bag, which resulted in a quantity of water being spilled; so without struggling any more, he fell upon his face with his lips to the wet sand.
"Let the joker suck," said Bill ”

“ It was a wisp of the musician's long hair, snipped out by the bullet.
They stood aside from the keyhole. More bullets came through, but all at the same angle. The women caught up a sack of flour, rolled it over the counter, and with Engelhardt's help jammed it between the props, so that the top just covered the keyhole. Next moment there was a rush against the door, and for the second time all the harm was done to the besiegers, not the besieged.
"We'll be black and blue before we've anything to show for it!" they heard the Bo's'n groaning.
"There's more than women in this," said Bill. ”

“ There, I'm sure he must have seen me then."
"He must."
"It's time we went back; but this will have done him all the good in the world," said Naomi.
"It's a pity you haven't a manager whom you can respect and like," the piano-tuner remarked.
Naomi started. She also stopped to lace up her shoe, which necessitated the withdrawal of her hand from the piano-tuner's arm; and she did not replace it.
"Oh, but I do like him, Mr. Engelhardt," she explained as she stooped. "I like Mr. Gilroy very much; I have known him all my life, you know. ”

“ The girl grew uncomfortable as she rode on and on without ever striking the trail; and the cutting sentences which she had prepared for the piano-tuner escaped her mind long before she reached the township, and found, as she now expected, that nobody answering to his description had been seen in the vicinity.
Naomi was not the one to waste time in a superfluity of inquiries. She saw in a [Pg 148] moment that Engelhardt had not been near the place, and a similar fact was even more easily ascertained in the matter of Sam Rowntree. The township people knew him well. ”

“ The moon was shining through the skylight upon one of the walls; the multifarious tins and bottles on the shelves made the most of the white light; and faint reflections reached the [Pg 207] faces of Naomi and the piano-tuner—so close to each other, so pale, so determined, and withal so wistful as their eyes met. Engelhardt first looked his thanks, and then stammered them out in a broken whisper. Even as he did so the girl raised a finger to her lips.
"Hark! There they are."
"Yes, I hear them. They won't hear us yet a bit."
"They mustn't hear us at all ”

“ Some of them will go away with forty or fifty pounds."
"It beats piano-tuning," said Engelhardt, with a laugh. They crossed an open space, mounted a few steps, and began threading their way down the left-hand aisle, between the shearers and the pen from which they had to help themselves to woolly sheep. The air was heavy with the smell of fleeces, and not unmusical with the constant swish and chink of forty pairs of shears.
"Well, Harry?" said Naomi, to the second man they came to. "Harry is an old friend of mine, Mr. Engelhardt—he was here in the old days. Mr. ”

“ He looked at her sorrowfully, for the eager, inquiring face troubled him, he scarce knew why.
"The pale faces know what the Great Spirit says about all things. Will the young brave hide this from poor Amoahmeh?" said she with a yet more wistful look.
"Now what is this fellow Pritchard," said Isidore to himself, "or what am I, ay, or what is even Monseigneur the Archbishop for that matter, that we should take upon ourselves to say what a loving Father in His wisdom may choose to do with these red skins after they leave this world?" ”

“ Archbishop of Cologne, duke of its double dukedom, and Regent of the German realm, Engelbert was well-nigh Germany's greatest figure during these years. If his arm was strong, his also was the spirit of counsel and wisdom. And although bearing himself as prince and ruler, he had within him the devotion and humility of a true bishop. Said one of Engelbert's chaplains, speaking to the Abbot of Heisterbach: "Although my lord seems as of the world, within he is not as he appears outwardly. Know that he has many secret comfortings from God." ”

“ Amoahmeh shrank lack, and clasping her hands together exclaimed, "Alas! what have I said? I did not—I could not know."
There was a painful silence for a minute or two, then laying her hand timidly on Isidore's arm she said, "Oh, forgive me if I have distressed you—you to whom I owe so much—you who first told the poor lonely Indian girl where it is that we may surely hope to see again those whom we loved, and whom God has taken from us. Ah, it is hard to hear; but monsieur knows that if there is one angel less on earth, there is one more in heaven." ”

“ The man who was chosen Archbishop of Cologne in 1216 was of the highest birth. It was Engelbert, son of Count Engelbert of Berg. A young nobleman, related by blood to the local powers, lay and ecclesiastic, and destined for Church dignities, would be quickly given benefices. Engelbert received such, and also was appointed Provost of the Cathedral. Strong of body, rich, he led a boisterous martial life, and took a truculent part in the political dissensions which were undoing the German realm. ”

“ Engelbert assured her, with an attempt to give a tender intonation to his voice. "We were both poor, I had no prospects, years might elapse ere I should be in a situation to offer you my hand. Should I allow you to waste your youth, mourning over me, and perhaps forfeiting a different and a happier fate? Never! And since I knew your magnanimity, knew that you would never have broken your word to me, with a bleeding heart I did what I had to--I restored your freedom to you through my supposed death----"
"Give yourself no trouble. ”

“ In that year I was engaged in preparing the report on the forest wealth of the United States for the Tenth Census, and I asked him to join me in the journey to the Pacific coast. We traveled together in the summer of 1880 for about four months, covering the ground from Vancouver and the lower Frazer river to the Mexican boundary in southern Arizona.
“Dr. Engelmann was then rather infirm, crippled with rheumatism, and very stout. His energy, courage, and endurance were a surprise and delight to us. He never hesitated to try to get up the steepest mountains or to take long drives and rides. ”