Van Mitten

“ He had not devoted a great deal of time to speculation during all the years of his long life. Van Mitten had never been what is called a religious man, but neither had he been what is called an atheist. He had been one of those men who take things as they come–who don't understand about the eternal matters, and who make no particular effort to do so. ”

“ But the only visible and audible effect of his effort was an increase in the violence of the death-rattle. Someone who stood beside him murmured:
"Ah, how he is suffering!"
Van Mitten heard the words and would have been glad to make a sign that the speaker was mistaken; but he had not the power to move a muscle. His eyes grew dimmer and dimmer. And he noticed that his hearing was dulling.
Some time passed. Minutes. Many minutes. The dying man no longer saw anything at all, no longer heard anything. Then he had the sensation that he had made an entirely involuntary motion ”

“ I have to take care of you, and you cannot proceed without me," he added.
"So be it," answered Van Mitten. "But putting railways aside, perhaps there are some simple means whereby we may reach Scutari without crossing the Bosphorus, but still without going all round the Black Sea."
"What are they?" inquired Kéraban, frowning. "If they are good, I will adopt them; if bad, I decline."
"I know an excellent way," said Van Mitten.
"Speak quickly. We have to make all our preparations yet. We have not a minute to lose!"
"This is my idea," said Van Mitten. ”

“ He slept soundly, and set his companion such a good example that he could not do otherwise than profit by it.
The night passed without incident, thanks to the long and winding road which formed the approach to the town of Viga, and avoided the rude slopes and marshy ground of the valley. Van Mitten much regretted that he could not see that little town, which contains about a thousand people, almost all Greeks, and which is the seat of a bishop. But he had not come to see. He was the companion of the inflexible Kéraban, who did not trouble himself to collect any impressions of his journey. ”

“ So Van Mitten, without another word, though still but half awake, shook his companion vigorously.
None can sleep more soundly than a Turk, when the Turk has a good digestion and an easy conscience. This was the case with Kéraban, and many attempts were made to rouse him.
Kéraban, without opening his eyes, grumbled and growled like a man who was by no means disposed to stir. Had he been as headstrong in his sleeping as when waking, they would have been obliged to let him alone.
Nevertheless, the persistence of Van Mitten and Bruno was such that Seigneur Kéraban was awakened. ”

“ Van Mitten was thinking of the unexpected journey he was making, and did not cease to wonder how it had happened that he, a citizen of Holland, had been launched thus upon a tour of the Black Sea, when he ought to be resting quietly in Pera or Constantinople.
Ahmet had made up his mind to the journey, but he determined not to spare his uncle's purse whenever delay or trouble might be avoided by using it. They would travel by the quickest and shortest route. The young man was ruminating on this, as the chaise turned the point, and he could perceive the banker's villa. ”

“ Van Mitten and Kéraban occupied the interior of the chaise; Bruno add Nizib were perched up behind in the "cabriolet," which afforded them shelter, and was furnished with glasses which they could pull up at pleasure. Under such circumstances they felt equal to the journey to China, but fortunately the Black Sea did not extend so far, or Van Mitten would have been introduced to the "celestial" capital. ”

“ The horses and the carriage were, however, quite unfitted for such a transit; and the route was practically through a marsh which was almost impassable. Notwithstanding the advice of the postillion, and Van Mitten's remonstrances, Kéraban gave the order to go on. So the men obeyed him. The consequence was that towards evening the carriage became embedded in the slough, and the horses were quite unable to extricate it.
"The roads are not properly attended to in this country," said Van Mitten.
"They are as they are," replied Kéraban, "and just what you might expect under such a government!" ”

“ There is the Bosphorus, which laves the shores of Asia, and on the opposite side you may see the Seraglio Point, and the Turkish town which is raised above it."
"The Seraglio!" exclaimed Bruno. "Is that the palace of the Sultan, wherein the eighty thousand odalisques live?"
"Eighty thousand?" repeated Van Mitten, smiling; "I fancy you have estimated the number somewhat too highly—even for a Turk. In Holland we find one wife sufficient for a household, and even then one cannot always have peace!" ”

“ Is it likely that I should slide along 'rails, when I can drive on a road?"
"When time presses, uncle—"
"Ahmet, look me in the face, and listen to me. If there are no carriages, I will go in a cart. If there is no cart, I will ride; if I cannot get a horse, I will hire a donkey. If there are no donkeys, I will walk; and, when I cannot walk, I will crawl; and, when I can no longer crawl, I—"
"For goodness’ sake, stop!" cried Van Mitten.
"When I cannot crawl on hands and knees, I will drag myself along on my stomach," said Kéraban in conclusion—"yes, on my stomach!" ”

“ As I was ushered into the living-room that morning by Currie, a rare old English servant who acted as Vance’s butler, valet, major-domo and, on occasions, specialty cook, Vance was sitting in a large armchair, attired in a surah silk dressing-gown and grey suède slippers, with Vollard’s book on Cézanne open across his knees.
“Forgive my not rising, Van,” he greeted me casually. “I have the whole weight of the modern evolution in art resting on my legs. Furthermore, this plebeian early rising fatigues me, y’ know.” ”

“ If he thinks of the old days when Roger Williams taught Dutch to his learned pupil, John Milton, he may let his fancy picture to him these men, who ranked among the nation-builders of their day, stepping some Sunday morning under its Gothic arches from out the greensward that then surrounded them, and listening to the gospel in the tongue of those brave exiles who, like them, had fought for freedom of conscience. ”

“ Mr. Minot lay down on his bed. A hundred thoughts were his: the brown of Miss Meyrick's eyes, the sincerity of Mr. Trimmer's voice when he spoke of his proposition, the fishy look of Lord Harrowby refusing to meet his long lost brother. Things grew hazy. Mr. Minot slept.
On leaving Lord Harrowby's rooms, Mr. Martin Wall did not immediately set out for the Lileth, on which he lived in preference to the hotel. Instead he took a brisk turn about the spacious lobby of the De la Pax. ”

“ There can be little doubt that Milton kept himself well versed in the best current Dutch literature. There were frequent interchanges of scholarly civilities. Huyghens had been in London within Milton's hood burning incense to the English poets, and carrying back to Holland memories, and, alas! imitations of the great John Donne. Such a poet as Hooft, kindred in so many ways to Milton's own youth, divided as it was between Puritanism and the worship of beauty, between pietism and sensuous paganism, cannot but have attracted his learned and curious mind. ”

“ Augustus Minns was a bachelor, of about forty as he said—of about eight-and-forty as his friends said. He was always exceedingly clean, precise, and tidy; perhaps somewhat priggish, and the most retiring man in the world. He usually wore a brown frock-coat without a wrinkle, light inexplicables without a spot, a neat neckerchief with a remarkably neat tie, and boots without a fault; moreover, he always carried a brown silk umbrella with an ivory handle. ”

“ More than any single poet of the Court epic, more even than the poet of the Nibelungenlied, Walther von der Vogelweide summed up in himself all that was best in the group of poetic literature with which he was associated—the Minnesang. The early Austrian singers already mentioned, poets like Heinrich von Veldeke, who in his lyrics, as in his epic, introduced the French conception of Minne, or like the manly Friedrich von Hausen, and the Swiss imitator of Provençal measures, Rudolf von Fenis appear only in the light of forerunners. ”

“ And still he was happy and full of hope, of Frankie’s fine spirit of adventurousness; he gloried in the rashness of the marriage, felt strong, masterful, able to cope with the world. Poor Lionel! Frail barrier against which the stream of Minnie’s life force was to hurl itself! He had but an hour more to remain upright, before he was swept down and submerged and laid flat forever in the mud. An hour more of manhood. ”

“ Minnie herself fancied that her domesticity, her womanliness were pleasing him, that he was reflecting upon the good Lionel would derive from this match. Whereas! He was, after all, the same Horace who had chosen for his wife a flamboyant and radiant beauty, the Horace who had for years been more than tolerant of his wastrel brother’s follies and caprices. He was a man with a fanatic love for charm and distinction and beauty, there could have been no one to whom Minnie’s sober dowdiness would have made less appeal. ”

“ Minns to ‘run round’ and catch him. However, as it did not occur to Mr. Minns for some ten minutes or so, that he had left the brown silk umbrella with the ivory handle in the other coach, coming down; and, moreover, as he was by no means remarkable for speed, it is no matter of surprise that when he accomplished the feat of ‘running round’ to the Swan, the coach—the last coach—had gone without him.
It was somewhere about three o’clock in the morning, when Mr. Augustus Minns knocked feebly at the street-door of his lodgings in Tavistock-street, cold, wet, cross, and miserable. ”

“ Nevertheless he was of the greatest use to Minnie, because he knew how to do everything and she being so very “handy” was able to learn from his explanations. From the bedroom window Frances used to see her talking to him over his gate, or watching him as he illustrated some point of carpentry with grave gestures, and come tramping home again, in her shapeless old hat and a big apron, to work with noble cheerfulness.
Not for anything on earth would she have admitted that this cheerfulness was genuine, that it sprang from her satisfaction at finding work within her power, for the first time. ”

“ High resolves, divine unselfishness, fired her; she wanted to help everyone, not only Minnie and her grandmother, but every single human soul. She felt urged to a mighty destiny....
Then the mood ebbed, and left her chilled and lonely. She could hear Minnie in the kitchen directly beneath her; her pleasant voice talking to Michael; sometimes a cough from the old lady. Like a knife her love pierced her, love for everything safe, familiar and homely.
In another minute she would have rushed down the stairs to fling her arms round her sister, to tell her she would not, could not, ever leave her. ”

“ Mr. Petersen was near enough to hear every word, although he could not distinguish the man. It was Minnie’s voice which most astounded him—it was not her voice; it had tones he had never before heard, never imagined; it was gay, tender, full of a beautiful bravery.
“My darling boy!” she said, “I’ve only an instant. Is your cold clearing up at all?”
“How’s Sandra?” he asked curtly. His voice was hoarse and weak.
“Splendid! I’ve brought you a little something to eat, dear. You must do all you can to keep up your strength. For just a little while longer.”
“Oh, my God! Minnie!” ”

“ Lord Harrowby was at luncheon, and sent word for Mr. Minot to join him. Entering the gay dining-room, Minot saw at the far end the blond and noble head he sought. He threaded his way between the tables. Although he was an unusually attractive young man, he had never experienced anything like the array of stares turned upon him ere he had gone ten feet. "What the devil's the matter?" he asked himself. "I seem to be the cynosure of neighboring eyes, and then some." He did not dream that it was because he was passing through a dining-room of democrats to grasp the hand of a lord. ”

“ He’s R.M. up there now.”
“Van Stolz? I know him,” said the captain. “He used to be in the Customs, or something, at Port Elizabeth years ago. He was only there a little while though. A thick-set, brisk, jolly little man, isn’t he?”
“Yes. That’s him.”
“I remember him. Good sort of chap, although he’s a Dutchman.”
“Good sort of chap!” echoed Roden. “I should rather say he was. He’s a rare specimen in this world, I can tell you. One who once a man’s friend remains so for life.”
Mona bent down over her plate to hide the sudden rush which welled to her eyes. He was too cruel. ”

“ She was not physically vain, but she did consider herself impressive, aristocratic, and it would have been a cruel shock to her to know that the cultured spinster, Miss Vanderhof, used to laugh when she saw her driving by, and say to her mother, “There goes Miss Quixote!”
Penniless and proud Minnie was, but farther than that the simile would not hold. No one less likely than{61} she to tilt against windmills, no one less sympathetic toward a lost cause. ”

“ Minns was not his parent, he endeavoured to attract his notice by scraping his drab trousers with his dirty shoes, poking his chest with his mamma’s parasol, and other nameless endearments peculiar to infancy, with which he beguiled the tediousness of the ride, apparently very much to his own satisfaction.
When the unfortunate gentleman arrived at the Swan, he found to his great dismay, that it was a quarter past five. The white house, the stables, the ‘Beware of the Dog,’—every landmark was passed, with a rapidity not unusual to a gentleman of a certain age when too late for dinner. ”