LIBRARY University of California ALEXANDER KIELLAND. THE CONTINENTAL CLASSICS VOLUME XVII THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO AND OTHER STORIES TRANSLATED FROM THE NORWEGIAN BY WILLIAM ARCHER WITH .AN INTRODUCTION BY H. H. BOY ES EN HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS NEW YORK AND LONDON :4 Copyright, 1891, by HARPER & BROTHERS. CONTENTS. PACK PHARAOH 3 THE PARSONAGE 15 THE PEAT MOOR 47 "HOPE'S CLAD IN APRIL GREEN" ... 57 AT THE FAIR 71 Two FRIENDS 83 A GOOD CONSCIENCE 115 ROMANCE AND REALITY 135 WITHERED LEAVES 157 THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO 167 INTRODUCTION. IN June, 1867, about a hundred enthusiastic youths were vociferously celebrating the at- tainment of the baccalaureate degree at the University of Norway. The orator on this occasion was a tall, handsome, distinguished- looking young man named Alexander Kiel- land, from the little coast-town of Stavanger. There was none of the crudity of a provincial either in his manners or his appearance. He spoke with a quiet self-possession and a pithy incisiveness which were altogether phenomenal. "That young man will be heard from one of these days," was the unanimous verdict of those who listened to his clear-cut and finish- ed sentences, and noted the maturity of his opinions. But ten years passed, and outside of Sta- vanger no one ever heard of Alexander Kiel- land. His friends were aware that he had studied law, spent some winters in France, married, and settled himself as a dignitary in Vlil INTRODUCTION. his native town. It was understood that he had bought a large brick and tile factory, and that, as a manufacturer of these useful articles, he bid fair to become a provincial magnate, as his fathers had been before him. People had almost forgotten that great things had been expected of him ; and some fancied, perhaps, that he had been spoiled by prosperity. Re- membering him, as I did, as the most brilliant and notable personality among my university friends, I began to apply to him Malloch's epi- grammatic damnation of the man of whom it was said at twenty that he would do great things, at thirty that he might do great things, and at forty that he might have done great things. This was the frame of mind of those who remembered Alexander Kielland (and he was an extremely difficult man to forget), when in the year 1879 a niodest volume of " novel- ettes" appeared, bearing his name. It was, to all appearances, a light performance, but it revealed a sense of style which made it, never- theless, notable. No man had ever written the Norwegian language as this man wrote it. There was a lightness of touch, a perspicacity, an epigrammatic sparkle and occasional flashes of wit, which seemed altogether un-Norwegian. INTRODUCTION. IX It was obvious that this author was familiar with the best French writers, and had acquired through them that clear and crisp incisiveness of utterance which was supposed, hitherto, to be untransferable to any other tongue. As regards the themes of these "novelettes" (from which the present collection is chiefly made up), it was remarked at the time of their first appearance that they hinted at a more serious purpose than their style seemed to imply. Who can read, for instance, " Pha- raoh" (which in the original is entitled "A Ball Mood ") without detecting the revolu- tionary note which trembles quite audibly through the calm and unimpassioned lan- guage? There is, by-the-way, a little touch of melodrama in this tale which is very un- usual with Kiclland. " Romance and Real- ity," too, is glaringly at variance with the conventional romanticism in its satirical con- trasting of the pre-matrimonial and the post- matrimonial view of love and marriage. The same persistent tendency to present the wrong side as well as the right side and not, as lit- erary good-manners are supposed to prescribe, ignore the former is obvious in the charm- ing tale "At the Fair," where a little spice of wholesome truth spoils the thoughtlessly X INTRODUCTION. festive mood ; and the squalor, the want, the envy, hate, and greed which prudence and a regard for business compel the performers to disguise to the public, become the more cruelly visible to the visitors of the little alley- way at the rear of the tents. In "A Good Conscience " the satirical note has a still more serious ring; but the same admirable self-re- straint which, next to the power of thought and expression, is the happiest gift an au- thor's fairy godmother can bestow upon him, saves Kielland from saying too much from enforcing his lesson by marginal comments, fc la George Eliot. But he must be obtuse, indeed, to whom this reticence is not more eloquent and effective than a page of philo- sophical moralizing. " Hope's Clad in April Green " and " The Battle of Waterloo" (the first and the last tale in the Norwegian edition), are more untinged with a moral tendency than any of the forego- ing. The former is a mere/ turns, and drew them back again. At last he took three steps forward on his meagre shanks and held out his hand to the woman. She took what he had in it, and disappeared into the darkness. He stood motionless for a moment, then he mut- tered some words and burst into tears. Presently he stopped, and said : " Maman m'a pris mon sou !" and fell to weeping again. He dried his eyes and left off for a time, but as often as he repeated to himself his sad little history how his mother had taken his sou from him he was seized with another and a bitterer fit of weeping. He stooped and buried his face in the curtain. The stiff, wrinkly oil - painting must be hard and cold to cry into. The little body shrank together ; he drew his green leg close up under him, and stood like a stork upon the red one. No one on the other side of the curtain must hear that he was crying. Therefore he did not sob like a child, but fought as a man fights against a broken heart. When the attack was over, he blew his nose with his fingers, and wiped them on his tights. With the dirty curtain he had dabbled the tears all over his face until it was streaked with black; and in this guise, and dry- eyed, he gazed for a moment over the fair. Then : " Maman m'a pris mon sou " and he set off again. 8o TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. The backsweep of the wave leaves the beach dry for an instant while the next wave is gathering. Thus sorrow swept in heavy surges over the little childish heart. His dress was so ludicrous, his body so meagre, his weeping was so wofully bitter, and his suffer- ing so great and man-like But at home at the hotel the Pavilion Henri Quatre, where the Queens of France condescended to be brought to bed there the condor sat and slept upon its perch. And it dreamed its dream its only dream its dream about the snow-peaks of Peru and the mighty wing - strokes over the deep valleys ; and then it forgot its rope. It uplifted its ragged pinions vigorously, and struck two sturdy strokes. Then the rope drew taut, and it fell back where it was wont to fall it wrenched its claw, and the dream vanished. Next morning the aristocratic English family was much concerned, and the landlord himself felt annoyed, for the condor lay dead upon the grass. TWO FRIENDS. TWO FRIENDS. No one could understand where he got his money from. But the person who marvelled most at the dashing and luxurious life led by Alphonse was his quondam friend and partner. After they dissolved partnership, most of the cus- tom and the best connection passed by degrees into Charles's hands. This was not because he in any way sought to run counter to his former part- ner ; on the contrary, it arose simply from the fact that Charles was the more capable man of the two. And as Alphonse had now to work on his own ac- count, it was soon clear to any one who observed him closely, that in spite of his promptitude, his amiability and his prepossessing appearance, he was not fitted to be at the head of an independent business. And there was one person who did observe him closely. Charles followed him step by step with his sharp eyes ; every blunder, every extravagance, every loss he knew all to a nicety, and he won- dered that Alphonse could keep going so long. 84 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. They had as good as grown up together. Their mothers were cousins ; the families had lived near each other in the same street; and in a city like Paris proximity is as important as relationship in promoting close intercourse. Moreover, the boys went to the same school. Thenceforth, as they grew up to manhood, they were inseparable. Mutual adaptation overcame the great differences which originally marked their characters, until at last their idiosyncrasies fitted into each other like the artfully-carved pieces of wood which compose the picture -puzzles of our childhood. The relation between them was really a beauti- ful one, such as does not often arise between two young men ; for they did not understand friendship as binding the one to bear everything at the hands of the other, but seemed rather to vie with each other in mutual considerateness. If, however, Alphonse in his relation to Charles showed any high degree of considerateness, he him- self was ignorant of it ; and if any one had told him of it he would doubtless have laughed loudly at such a mistaken compliment. For as life on the whole appeared to him very simple and straightforward, the idea that his friend- ship should in any way fetter him was the last thing that could enter his head. That Charles was his best friend seemed to him as entirely natural as that he himself danced best, rode best, was the best TWO FRIENDS. 85 shot, and that the whole world was ordered entirely to his mind. Alphonse was in the highest degree a spoilt child of fortune ; he acquired everything without effort ; existence fitted him like an elegant dress, and he wore it with such unconstrained amiability that peo- ple forgot to envy him. And then he was so handsome. He was tall and slim, with brown hair and big open eyes ; his com- plexion was clear and smooth, and his teeth shone when he laughed. He was quite conscious of his beauty, but, as everybody had petted him from his earliest days, his vanity was of a cheerful, good- natured sort, which, after all, was not so offensive. He was exceedingly fond of his friend. He amused himself and sometimes others by teasing him and making fun of him ; but he knew Charles's face so thoroughly that he saw at once when the jest was going too far. Then he would resume his natural, kindly tone, until he made the serious and some- what melancholy Charles laugh till he was ill. From his boyhood Charles had admired Alphonse beyond measure. He himself was small and insig- nificant, quiet and shy. His friend's brilliant qual- ities cast a lustre over him as well, and gave a cer- tain impetus to his life. His mother often said : " This friendship between the boys is a real blessing for my poor Charles, for without it he would certainly have been a melan- choly creature." 86 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. When Alphonse was on all occasions preferred to him, Charles rejoiced ; he was proud of his friend. He wrote his exercises, prompted him at examina- tion, pleaded his cause with the masters, and fought for him with the boys. At the commercial academy it was the same story. Charles worked for Alphonse, and Alphonse rewarded him with his inexhaustible amiability and unfailing good-humor. When subsequently, as quite young men, they were placed in the same banker's office, it happened one day that the principal said to Charles : " From the first of May I will raise your salary." " I thank you," answered Charles, " both on my own and on my friend's behalf." " Monsieur Alphonse's salary remains unaltered," replied the chief, and went on writing. Charles never forgot that morning. It was the first time he had been preferred or distinguished before his friend. And it was his commercial ca- pacity, the quality which, as a young man of busi- ness, he valued most, that had procured him this preference ; and it was the head of the firm, the great financier, who had himself accorded him such recognition. The experience was so strange to him that it seemed like an injustice to his friend. He told Alphonse nothing of the occurrence ; on the con- trary, he proposed that they should apply for two vacant places in the Credit Lyonnais. TWO FRIENDS. 87 Alphonse was quite willing, for he loved change, and the splendid new banking establishment on the Boulevard seemed to him far more attractive than the dark offices in the Rue Bergere. So they re- moved to the Credit Lyonnais on the first of May. But as they were in the chief's office taking their leave, the old banker said to Charles, when Al- phonse had gone out (Alphonse always took pre- cedence of Charles), " Sentiment won't do for a business man." From that day forward a change went on in Charles. He not only worked as industriously and conscientiously as before, but developed such en- ergy and such an amazing faculty for labor as soon attracted to him the attention of his superiors. That he was far ahead of his friend in business capacity was soon manifest ; but every time he re- ceived a new mark of recognition he had a struggle with himself. For a long time, every advancement brought with it a certain qualm of conscience ; and yet he worked on with restless ardor. One day Alphonse said, in his light, frank way : " You are really a smart fellow, Charlie ! You're getting ahead of everybody, young and old not to mention me. I'm quite proud of you !" Charles felt ashamed. He had been thinking that Alphonse must feel wounded at being left on one side, and now he learned that his friend not only did not grudge him his advancement, but was even proud of him. By degrees his conscience was 88 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. lulled to rest, and his solid worth was more and more appreciated But if he was in reality the more capable, how came it that he was so entirely ignored in society, while Alphonse remained everybody's darling ? The very promotions and marks of appreciation which he had won for himself by hard work, were accorded him in a dry, business manner; while every one, from the directors to the messengers, had a friend- ly word or a merry greeting for Alphonse. In the different offices and departments of the bank they intrigued to obtain possession of Mon- sieur Alphonse ; for a breath of life and freshness followed ever in the wake of his handsome person and joyous nature. Charles, on the other hand, had often remarked that his colleagues regarded him as a dry person, who thought only of business and of himself. The truth was that he had a heart of rare sen- sitiveness, with no faculty for giving it expres- sion. Charles was one of those small, black Frenchmen whose beard begins right under the eyes ; his com- plexion was yellowish and his hair stiff and splintery. His eyes did not dilate when he was pleased and animated, but they flashed around and glittered. When he laughed the corners of his mouth turned upward, and many a time, when his heart was full of joy and good-will, he had seen people draw back, half-frightened by his forbidding exterior. Alphonse TWO FRIENDS. 89 alone knew him so well that he never seemed to see his ugliness ; every one else misunderstood him. He became suspicious, and retired more and more within himself. In an insensible crescendo the thought grew in him : Why should he never attain anything of that which he most longed for intimate and cordial in- tercourse and friendliness which should answer to the warmth pent up within him ? Why should every one smile to Alphonse with out - stretched hands, while he must content himself with stiff bows and cold glances ! Alphonse knew nothing of all this. He was joy- ous and healthy, charmed with life and content with his daily work. He had been placed in the easiest and most interesting branch of the business, and, with his quick brain and his knack of making him- self agreeable, he filled his place satisfactorily. His social circle was very large every one set store by his acquaintance, and he was at least as popular among women as among men. For a time Charles accompanied Alphonse into society, until he was seized by a misgiving that he was invited for his friend's sake alone, when he at once drew back. When Charles proposed that they should set up in business together, Alphonse had answered : " It is too good of you to choose me. You could easily find a much better partner." Charles had imagined that their altered relations 90 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. and closer association in work would draw Alphonse out of the circles which Charles could not now en- dure, and unite them more closely. For he had con- ceived a vague dread of losing his friend. He did not himself know, nor would it have been easy to decide, whether he was jealous of all the people who flocked around Alphonse and drew him to them, or whether he envied his friend's popularity. They began their business prudently and ener- getically, and got on well. It was generally held that each formed an ad- mirable complement to the other. Charles repre- sented the solid, confidence-inspiring element, while the handsome and elegant Alphonse imparted to the firm a certain lustre which was far from being without value. Every one who came into the counting-house at once remarked his handsome figure, and thus it seemed quite natural that all should address them- selves to him. Charles meanwhile bent over his work and let Alphonse be spokesman. When Alphonse asked him about anything, he answered shortly and quiet- ly without looking up. Thus most people thought that Charles was a confidential clerk, while Alphonse was the real head of the house. As Frenchmen, they thought little about marry- ing, but as young Parisians they led a life into which erotics entered largely. TWO FRIENDS. 91 Alphonse was never really in his element except when in female society. Then all his exhilarating amiability came into play, and when he leaned back at supper and held out his shallow champagne- glass to be refilled, he was as beautiful as a happy god. He had a neck of the kind which women long to caress, and his soft, half-curling hair looked as if it were negligently arranged, or carefully disarranged, by a woman's coquettish hand. Indeed, many slim white fingers had passed through those locks ; for Alphonse had not only the gift of being loved by women, but also the yet rarer gift of being forgiven by them. When the friends were together at gay supper- parties, Alphonse paid no particular heed to Charles. He kept no account of his own love-affairs, far less of those of his friend. So it might easily happen that a beauty on whom Charles had cast a longing eye fell into the hands of Alphonse. Charles was used to seeing his friend preferred in life ; but there are certain things to which men can scarcely accustom themselves. He seldom went with Alphonse to his suppers, and it was al- ways long before the wine and the general exhilara- tion could bring him into a convivial humor. But then, when the champagne and the bright eyes had gone to his head, he would often be the wildest of all ; he would sing loudly with his harsh voice, laugh and gesticulate so that his stiff 92 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. black hair fell over his forehead; and then the merry ladies shrank from him, and called him the " chimney-sweep." As the sentry paces up and down in the be- leaguered fortress, he sometimes hears a strange sound in the silent night, as if something were rustling under his feet. It is the enemy, who has undermined the outworks, and to-night or to-mor- row night there will be a hollow explosion, and armed men will storm in through the breach. If Charles had kept close watch over himself he would have heard strange thoughts rustling with- in him. But he would not hear he had only a dim foreboding that some time there must come an explosion. And one day it came. It was already after business hours ; the clerks had all left the outer office, and only the principals remained behind. Charles was busily writing a letter which he wished to finish before he left. Alphonse had drawn on both his gloves and but- toned them. Then he had brushed his hat until it shone, and now he was walking up and down and peeping into Charles's letter every time he passed the desk. They used to spend an hour every day before dinner in a cafe* on the great Boulevard, and Alphonse was getting impatient for his newspa- pers. TWO FRIENDS. 93 " Will you never have finished that letter ?" he said, rather irritably. Charles was silent a second or two, then he sprang up so that his chair fell over : " Perhaps Alphonse imagined that he could do it better? Did he not know which of them was really the man of business?" And now the words streamed out with that incredible rapidity of which the French language is capable when it is used in fiery pas- sion. But it was a turbid stream, carrying with it many ugly expressions, upbraidings and recriminations ; and through the whole there sounded something like a suppressed sob. As he strode up and down the room, with clench- ed hands and dishevelled hair, Charles looked like a little wiry -haired terrier barking at an elegant Italian greyhound. At last he seized his hat and rushed out. Alphonse had stood looking at him with great wondering eyes. When he was gone, and there was once more silence in the room, it seemed as though the air was still quivering with the hot words. Al- phonse recalled them one by one, as he stood mo- tionless beside the desk. " Did he not know which was the abler of the two ?" Yes, assuredly ! he had never denied that Charles was by far his superior. " He must not think that he would succeed in winning everything to himself with his smooth 94 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. face." Alphonse was not conscious of ever having deprived his friend of anything. " I don't care for your cocottes" Charles had said. Could he really have been interested in the little Spanish dancer? If Alphonse had only had the faintest suspicion of such a thing he would never have looked at her. But that was nothing to get so wild about; there were plenty of women in Paris. And at last : "As sure as to-morrow comes, I will dissolve partnership !" Alphonse did not understand it at all. He left the counting-house and walked moodily through the streets until he met an acquaintance. That put other thoughts into his head ; but -all day he had a feeling as if something gloomy and uncomfortable lay in wait, ready to seize him so soon as he was alone. When he reached home, late at night, he found a letter from Charles. He opened it hastily ; but it contained, instead of the apology he had expect- ed, only a coldly-worded request to M. Alphonse to attend at the counting-house early the next morning " in order that the contemplated dissolution of part- nership might be effected as quickly as possible." Now, for the first time, did Alphonse begin to un- derstand that the scene in the counting-house had been more than a passing outburst of passion ; but this only made the affair more inexplicable. And the longer he thought it over, the more TWO FRIENDS. 95 clearly did he feel that Charles had been unjust to him. He had never been angry with his friend, nor was he precisely angry even now. But as he repeated to himself all the insults Charles had heaped upon him, his good-natured heart hardened ; and the next morning he took his place in silence, after a cold " Good-morning." Although he arrived a whole hour earlier than usual, he could see that Charles had been working long and industriously. There they sat, each on his side of the desk ; they spoke only the most in- dispensable words ; now and then a paper passed from hand to hand, but they never looked each other in the face. In this way they both worked each more busily than the other until twelve o'clock, their usual luncheon-time. This hour of d'ejeftner was the favorite time of both. Their custom was to have it served in their office, and when the old house-keeper announced that lunch was ready, they would both rise at once, even if they were in the midst of a sentence or of an account. They used to eat standing by the fireplace or walking up and down in the warm, comfortable office. Alphonse had always some piquant stories to tell, and Charles laughed at them. These were his pleasantest hours. But that day, when Madame said her friendly "Messieurs^ on a servi" they both remained sitting. g6 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. She opened her eyes wide, and repeated the words as she went out, but neither moved. At last Alphonse felt hungry, went to the table, poured out a glass of wine and began to eat his cutlet. But as he stood there eating, with his glass in his hand, and looked round the dear old office where they had spent so many pleasant hours, and then thought that they were to lose all this and imbitter their lives for a whim, a sudden burst of passion, the whole situation appeared to him so preposterous that he almost burst out laughing. " Look here, Charles," he said, in the half-earnest, half -joking tone which always used to make Charles laugh, " it will really be too absurd to advertise : 'According to an amicable agreement, from such and such a date the firm of ' " " I have been thinking," interrupted Charles, quietly, "that we will put: 'According to mutual agreement.' " Alphonse laughed no more; he put down his glass, and the cutlet tasted bitter in his mouth. He understood that friendship was dead between them, why or wherefore he could not tell ; but he thought that Charles was hard and unjust to him. He was now stiffer and colder than the other. They worked together until the business of dis- solution was finished ; then they parted. A considerable time passed, and the two quon- dam friends worked each in his own quarter in the TWO FRIENDS; 97 great Paris. They met at the Bourse, but never did business with each other. Charles never worked against Alphonse ; he did not wish to ruin him ; he wished Alphonse to ruin himself. And Alphonse seemed likely enough to meet his friend's wishes in this respect. It is true that now and then he did a good stroke of business, but the steady industry he had learned from Charles he soon forgot. He began to neglect his office, and lost many good connections. He had always had a taste for dainty and lux- urious living, but his association with the frugal Charles had hitherto held his extravagances in check. Now, on the contrary, his life became more and more dissipated. He made fresh acquaint- ances on every hand, and was more than ever the brilliant and popular Monsieur Alphonse; but Charles kept an eye on his growing debts. He had Alphonse watched as closely as possi- ble, and, as their business was of the same kind, could form a pretty good estimate of the other's earnings. His expenses were even easier to ascer- tain, and he soon assured himself of the fact that Alphonse was beginning to run into debt in several quarters. He cultivated some acquaintances about whom he otherwise cared nothing, merely because through them he got an insight into Alphonse's expensive mode of life and rash prodigality. He sought the same cafe's and restaurants as Alphonse, but at 7 98 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. different times; he even had his clothes made by the same tailor, because the talkative little man entertained him with complaints that Monsieur Alphonse never paid his bills. Charles often thought how easy it would be to buy up a part of Alphonse's liabilities and let them fall into the hands of a grasping usurer. But it would be a great injustice to suppose that Charles for a moment contemplated doing such a thing himself. It was only an idea he was fond of dwell- ing upon ; he was, as it were, in love with Alphonse's debts. But things went slowly, and Charles became pale and sallow while he watched and waited. He was longing for the time when the people who had always looked down upon him should have their eyes opened, and see how little the brill- iant and idolized Alphonse was really fit for. He wanted to see him humbled, abandoned by his friends, lonely and poor ; and then ! Beyond that he really did not like to speculate ; for at this point feelings stirred within him which he would not acknowledge. He would hate his former friend ; he would have revenge for all the coldness and neglect which had been his own lot in life ; and every time the least thought in defence of Alphonse arose in his mind he pushed it aside, and said, like the old banker : " Sentiment won't do for a business man." One day he went to his tailor's; he bought TWO FRIENDS. 99 more clothes in these days than he absolutely needed. The nimble little man at once ran to meet him with a roll of cloth : " See, here is the very stuff for you. Monsieur Alphonse has had a whole suit made of it, and Monsieur Alphonse is a gentleman who knows how to dress." "I did not think that Monsieur Alphonse was one of your favorite customers," said Charles, rather taken by surprise. "Oh, mon Dieu!" exclaimed the little tailor, " you mean because I have once or twice mentioned that Monsieur Alphonse owed me a few thousand francs. It was very stupid of me to speak so. Monsieur Alphonse has not only paid me the trifle he was owing, but I know that he has also satisfied a number of other creditors. I have done ce cha- teau monsieur great injustice, and I beg you never to give him a hint of my stupidity." Charles was no longer listening to the chatter of the garrulous tailor. He soon left the shop, and went up the street quite absorbed in the one thought that Alphonse had paid. He thought how foolish it really was of him to wait and wait for the other's ruin. How easily might not the adroit and lucky Alphonse come across many a brilliant business opening, and make plenty of money without a word of it reaching Charles's ears. Perhaps, after all, he was getting on well. Perhaps it would end in people saying: 100 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. " See, at last Monsieur Alphonse shows what he is fit for, now that he is quit of his dull and crabbed partner !" Charles went slowly up the street with his head bent. Many people jostled him, but he heeded not. His life seemed to him so meaningless, as if he had lost all that he had ever possessed or had he him- self cast it from him ? Just then some one ran against him with more than usual violence. He looked up. It was an acquaintance from the time when he and Alphonse had been in the Credit Ly- onnais. "Ah, good -day, Monsieur Charles !" cried he, " It is long since we met. Odd, too, that I should meet you to-day. I was just thinking of you this morning." "Why, may I ask?" said Charles, half -absently. " Well, you see, only to-day I saw up at the bank a paper a bill for thirty or forty thousand francs bearing both your name and that of Monsieur Al- phonse. It astonished me, for I thought that you two hm ! had done with each other." "No, we have not quite done with each other yet," said Charles, slowly. He struggled with all his might to keep his face calm, and asked in as natural a tone as he could command : " When does the bill fall due ? I don't quite recollect." " To-morrow or the day after, I think," answered the other, who was a hard-worked business man, TWO FRIENDS. IOI and was already in a hurry to be off. " It was ac- cepted by Monsieur Alphonse." " I know that," said Charles ; "but could you not manage to let me redeem the bill to-morrow ? It is a courtesy a favor I am anxious to do." " With pleasure. Tell your messenger to ask for me personally at the bank to-morrow afternoon. I will arrange it; nothing easier. Excuse me ; I'm in a hurry. Good-bye !" and with that he ran on Next day Charles sat in his counting-house waiting for the messenger who had gone up to the bank to redeem Alphonse's bill. At last a clerk entered, laid a folded blue paper by his principal's side, and went out again. Not until the door was closed did Charles seize the draft, look swiftly round the room, and open it. He stared for a second or two at his name, then lay back in his chair and drew a deep breath. It was as he had expected the signature was a for- gery. He bent over it again. For long he sat, gazing at his own name, and observing how badly it was counterfeited. While his sharp eye followed every line in the letters of his name, he scarcely thought. His mind was so disturbed, and his feelings so strangely con- flicting, that it was some time before he became conscious how much they betrayed these bung- ling strokes on the blue paper. He felt a strange lump in his throat, his nose be- 102 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. gan to tickle a little, and, before he was aware of it, a big tear fell on the paper. He looked hastily around, took out his pocket- handkerchief, and carefully wiped the wet place on the bill. He thought again of the old banker in the Rue Bergere. What did it matter to him that Alphonse's weak character had at last led him to crime, and what had he lost? Nothing, for did he not hate his former friend ? No one could say it was his fault that Alphonse was ruined he had shared with him honestly, and never harmed him. Then his thoughts turned to Alphonse. He knew him well enough to be sure that when the refined, delicate Alphonse had sunk so low, he must have come to a jutting headland in life, and be prepared to leap out of it rather than let disgrace reach him. At this thought Charles sprang up. That must not be. Alphonse should not have time to send a bullet through his head and hide his shame in the mixture of compassion and mysterious horror which follows the suicide. Thus Charles would lose his revenge, and it would be all to no purpose that he had gone and nursed his hatred until he himself had become evil through it. Since he had forever lost his friend, he would at least expose his enemy, so that all should see what a miserable, despicable being was this charming Alphonse. He looked at his watch; it was half-past four. Charles knew the cafe in which he would find Al- TWO FRIENDS. 103 phonse at this hour ; he pocketed the bill and but- toned his coat. But on the way he would call at a police-station, and hand over the bill to a detective, who at a sign from Charles should suddenly advance into the middle of the caf6 where Alphonse was always sur- rounded by his friends and admirers, and say loud- ly and distinctly so that all should hear it : " Monsieur Alphonse, you are charged with forg- ery." It was raining in Paris. The day had been fog- gy, raw, and cold ; and well on in the afternoon it had begun to rain. It was not a downpour the water did not fall from the clouds in regular drops but the clouds themselves had, as it were, laid themselves down in the streets of Paris and there slowly condensed into water. No matter how people might seek to shelter themselves, they got wet on all sides. The moist- ure slid down the back of your neck, laid itself like a wet towel about your knees, penetrated into your boots and far up your trousers. A few sanguine ladies were standing in the portes cochtres, with their skirts tucked up, expecting it to clear; others waited by the hour in the omnibus stations. But most of the stronger sex hurried along under their umbrellas ; only a few had been sensible enough to give up the battle, and had turned up their collars, stuck their umbrellas 104 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. under their arms, and their hands in their pock- ets. Although it was early in the autumn it was al- ready dusk at five o'clock. A few gas-jets lighted in the narrowest streets, and in a shop here and there, strove to shine out in the thick wet air. People swarmed as usual in the streets, jostled one another off the pavement, and ruined one anoth- er's umbrellas. All the cabs were taken up ; they splashed along and bespattered the foot-passengers to the best of their ability, while the asphalte glis- tened in the dim light with a dense coating of mud. The cafes were crowded to excess; regular cus- tomers went round and scolded, and the waiters ran against each other in their hurry. Ever and anon, amid the confusion, could be heard the sharp little ting of the bell on the buffet ; it was la dame du comptoir summoning a waiter, while her calm eyes kept a watch upon the whole cafe*. A lady sat at the buffet of a large restaurant on the Boulevard Sebastopol. She was widely known for her cleverness and her amiable manners. She had glossy black hair, which, in spite of the fashion, she wore parted in the middle of her fore- head in natural curls. Her eyes were almost black and her mouth full, with a little shadow of a mus- tache. Her figure was still very pretty, although, if the truth were known, she had probably passed her thirtieth year ; and she had a soft little hand, with TWO FRIENDS. 105 which she wrote elegant figures in her cash-book, and now and then a little note. Madame Virginie could converse with the young dandies who were always hanging about the buffet, and parry their witticisms, while she kept account with the waiters and had her eye upon every corner of the great room. She was really pretty only from five rill seven in the afternoon that being the time at which Al- phonse invariably visited the caf. Then her eyes never left him ; she got a fresher color, her mouth was always trembling into a smile, and her move- ments became somewhat nervous. That was the only time of the day when she was ever known to give a random answer or to make a mistake in the accounts ; and the waiters tittered and nudged each other. For it was generally thought that she had former- ly had relations with Alphonse, and some would even have it that she was still his mistress. She herself best knew how matters stood ; but it was impossible to be angry with Monsieur Alphonse. She was well aware that he cared no more for her than for twenty others ; that she had lost him nay, that he had never really been hers. And yet her eyes besought a friendly look, and when he left the cafe without sending her a confidential greeting, it seemed as though she suddenly faded, and the wait- ers said to each other : " Look at Madame ; she is gray to-night" 106 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. Over at the windows it was still light enough to read the papers ; a couple of young men were amusing themselves with watching the crowds which streamed past. Seen through the great plate-glass windows, the busy forms gliding past one another in the dense, wet, rainy air looked like fish in an aquarium. Farther back in the caf6, and over the billiard -tables, the gas was lighted. Alphonse was playing with a couple of friends. He had been to the buffet and greeted Madame Virginie, and she, who had long noticed how Al- phonse was growing paler day by day, had half in jest, half in anxiety reproached him with his thoughtless life. Alphonse answered with a poor joke and asked for absinthe. How she hated those light ladies of the ballet and the opera who enticed Monsieur Alphonse to revel night after night at the gaming-table, or at interminable suppers ! How ill he had been look- ing these last few weeks ! He had grown quite thin, and the great gentle eyes had acquired a pierc- ing, restless look. What would she not give to be able to rescue him out of that life that was dragging him down ! She glanced in the opposite mirror and thought she had beauty enough left. Now and then the door opened and a new guest came in, stamped his feet and shut his wet um- brella. All bowed to Madame Virginie, and almost all said, " What horrible weather 1" TWO FRIENDS. 1OJ < When Charles entered he saluted shortly and took a seat in the corner beside the fireplace. Alphonse's eyes had indeed become restless. He looked towards the door every time any one came in; and when Charles appeared, a spasm passed over his face and he missed his stroke. "Monsieur Alphonse is not in the vein to-day," said an onlooker. Soon after a strange gentleman came in. Charles looked up from his paper and nodded slightly ; the stranger raised his eyebrows a little and looked at Alphonse. He dropped his cue on the floor. " Excuse me, gentlemen, I'm not in the mood for billiards to-day," said he, " permit me to leave off. Waiter, bring me a bottle of seltzer-water and a spoon I must take my dose of Vichy salts." " You should not take so much Vichy salts, Mon- sieur Alphonse, but rather keep to a sensible diet," said the doctor, who sat a little way off playing chess. Alphonse laughed, and seated himself at the newspaper-table. He seized the Journal Amusant, and began to make merry remarks upon the illus- trations. A little circle quickly gathered round him, and he was inexhaustible in racy stories and whimsicalities. While he rattled on under cover of the others' laughter, he poured out a glass of seltzer-water and took from his pocket a little box on which was writ- ten, in large letters, " Vichy Salts." IDS TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. He shook the powder out into the glass and stirred it round with a spoon. There was a little cigar -ash on the floor in front of his chair; he whipped it off with his pocket-handkerchief, and then stretched out his hand for the glass. At that moment he felt a hand on his arm. Charles had risen and hurried across the room ; he now bent down over Alphonse. Alphonse turned his head towards him so that none but Charles could see his face. At first he let his eyes travel furtively over his old friend's figure ; then he looked up, and, gazing straight at Charles, he said, half aloud, " Charlie !" It was long since Charles had heard that old pet name. He gazed into the well-known face, and now for the first time saw how it had altered of late. It seemed to him as though he were reading a tragic story about himself. They remained thus for a second or two, and there glided over Alphonse's features that expres- sion of imploring helplessness which Charles knew so well from the old school-days, when Alphonse came bounding in at the last moment and wanted his composition written. "Have you done with the Journal Amusant?" asked Charles, with a thick utterance. "Yes; pray take it," answered Alphonse, hur- riedly. He reached him the paper, and at the same time got hold of Charles's thumb. He pressed it and whispered. " Thanks," then drained the glass. TWO FRIENDS. 109 Charles went over to the stranger who sat by the door : " Give me the bill." " You don't need our assistance, then ?" " No, thanks." " So much the better," said the stranger, hand- ing Charles a folded blue paper. Then he paid for his coffee and went. Madame Virginie rose with a little shriek: " Alphonse ! Oh, my God ! Monsieur Alphonse is ill." He slipped off his chair ; his shoulders went up and his head fell oh one side. He remained sitting on the floor, with his back against the chair. There was a movement among those nearest ; the doctor sprang over and knelt beside him. When he looked in Alphonse's face he started a little. He took his hand as if to feel his pulse, and at the same time bent down over the glass which stood on the edge of the table. With a movement of the arm he gave it a slight push, so that it fell on the floor and was smashed. Then he laid down the dead man's hand and bound a handkerchief round his chin. Not till then did the others understand what had happened. " Dead ? Is he dead, doctor ? Mon- sieur Alphonse dead ?" " Heart disease," answered the doctor. One came running with water, another with vine- gar. Amid laughter and noise, the balls could be heard cannoning on the inner billiard-table. 110 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. " Hush !" some one whispered. " Hush !" was repeated ; and the silence spread in wider and wider circles round the corpse, until all was quite still. " Come and lend a hand," said the doctor. The dead man was lifted up ; they laid him on a sofa in a corner of the room, and the nearest gas- jets were put out. Madame Virginie was still standing up ; her face was chalk-white, and she held her little soft hand pressed against her breast. They carried him right past the buffet. The doctor had seized him under the back, so that his waistcoat slipped up and a piece of his fine white shirt appeared. She followed with her eyes the slender, supple limbs she knew so well, and continued to stare tow- ards the dark corner. Most of the guests went away in silence. A couple of young men entered noisily from the street ; a waiter ran towards them and said a few words. They glanced towards the corner, buttoned their coats, and plunged out again into the fog. The half -darkened cafe was soon empty; only some of Alphonse's nearest friends stood in a group and whispered. The doctor was talking with the proprietor, who had now appeared on the scene. The waiters stole to and fro making great circuits to avoid the dark corner. One of them knelt and gathered up the fragments of the glass on a tray. He did his work as quietly as he could ; but for all that it made too much noise. TWO FRIENDS. Ill " Let that alone until by-and-by," said the host, softly. Leaning against the chimney-piece, Charles looked at the dead man. He slowly tore the folded paper to pieces, while he thought of his friend A GOOD CONSCIENCE. A GOOD CONSCIENCE. AN elegant little carriage, with two sleek and well-fed horses, drew up at Advocate Abel's garden gate. Neither silver nor any other metal was visible in the harness ; everything was a dull black, and all the buckles were leather-covered. In the lacquer- ing of the carriage there was a trace of dark green ; the cushions were of a subdued dust -color; and only on close inspection could you perceive that the coverings were of the richest silk. The coach- man looked like an English clergyman, in his close- buttoned black coat, with a little stand-up collar and stiff white necktie. Mrs. Warden, who sat alone in the carriage, bent forward and laid her hand upon the ivory door- handle ; then she slowly alighted, drew her long train after her, and carefully closed the carriage door. You might have wondered that the coachman did not dismount to help her ; the fat horses certainly did not look as though they would play any tricks if he dropped the reins. Il6 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. But when you looked at his immovable counte- nance and his correct iron-gray whiskers, you under- stood at once that this was a man who knew what he was doing, and never neglected a detail of his duty. Mrs. Warden passed through the little garden in front of the house, and entered the garden-room. The door to the adjoining room stood half open, and there she saw the lady of the house at a large table covered with rolls of light stuff and scattered numbers of the Bazar. "Ah, you've come just at the right moment, my dear Emily!" cried Mrs. Abel, "I'm quite in de- spair over my dress-maker she can't think of any- thing new. And here I'm sitting, ransacking the Bazar. Take off your shawl, dear, and come and help me ; it's a walking-dress." " I'm afraid I'm scarcely the person to help you in a matter of dress," answered Mrs. Warden. Good-natured Mrs. Abel stared at her; there was something disquieting in her tone, and she had a vast respect for her rich friend. " You remember I told you the other day that Warden had promised me that's to say" Mrs. Warden corrected herself "he had asked me to order a new silk dress " "From Madame Labiche of course!" inter- rupted Mrs. Abel. "And I suppose you're on your way to her now ? Oh, take me with you ! It will be such fun !" A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 117 " I am not going to Madame Labiche's," an- swered Mrs. Warden, almost solemnly. "Good gracious, why not?" asked her friend, while her good-humored brown eyes grew spherical with astonishment. "Well, you must know," answered Mrs. Warden, " it seems to me we can't with a good conscience pay so much money for unnecessary finery, when we know that on the outskirts of the town and even at our very doors there are hundreds of peo- ple living in destitution literally in destitution." "Yes, but," objected the advocate's wife, casting an uneasy glance over her table, " isn't that the way of the world ? We know that inequality " "We ought to be careful not to increase the in- equality, but rather to do what we can to smooth it away," Mrs. Warden interrupted. And it appeared to Mrs. Abel that her friend cast a glance of disap- probation over the table, the stuffs, and the Bazars. " It's only alpaca," she interjected, timidly. " Good heavens, Caroline !" cried Mrs. Warden, " pray don't think that I'm reproaching you. These things depend entirely upon one's individual point of view every one must follow the dictates of his own conscience." The conversation continued for some time, and Mrs. Warden related that it was her intention to drive out to the very lowest of the suburbs, in order to assure herself, with her own eyes, of the condi- tions of life among the poor. Il8 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. On the previous day she had read the annual report of a private charitable society of which her husband was a member. She had purposely re- frained from applying to the police or the poor-law authorities for information. It was the very gist of her design personally to seek out poverty, to make herself familiar with it, and then to render assist- ance. The ladies parted a little less effusively than usual. They were both in a serious frame of mind. Mrs. Abel remained in the garden-room ; she felt no inclination to set to work again at the walking- dress, although the stuff was really pretty. She heard the muffled sound of the carriage-wheels as they rolled off over the smooth roadway of the villa quarter. " What a good heart Emily has," she sighed. Nothing could be more remote than envy from the good-natured lady's character; and yet it was with a feeling akin to envy that she now followed the light carriage with her eyes. But whether it was her friend's good heart or her elegant equi- page that she envied her it was not easy to say. She had given the coachman his orders, which he had received without moving a muscle ; and as re- monstrance was impossible to him, he drove deeper and deeper into the queerest streets in the poor quarter, with a countenance as though he were driving to a Court ball. At last he received orders to stop, and indeed it A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 119 was high time. For the street grew narrower and narrower, and it seemed as though the fat horses and the elegant carriage must at the very next mo- ment have stuck fast, like a cork in the neck of a bottle. The immovable one showed no sign of anxiety, although the situation was in reality desperate. A humorist, who stuck his head out of a garret win- dow, went so far as to advise him to slaughter his horses on the spot, as they could never get out again alive. Mrs. Warden alighted, and turned into a still narrower street ; she wanted to see poverty at its very worst. In a door -way stood a half -grown girl. Mrs. Warden asked : " Do very poor people live in this house ?" The girl laughed and made some answer as she brushed close past her in the narrow door -way. Mrs. Warden did not understand what she said, but she had an impression that it was something ugly. She entered the first room she came to. It was not a new idea to Mrs. Warden that poor people never keep their rooms properly ventilated. Nevertheless, she was so overpowered by the at- mosphere she found herself inhaling that she was glad to sink down on a bench beside the stove. Mrs. Warden was struck by something in the gesture with which the woman of the house swept- I2O TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. down upon the floor the clothes which were lying on the bench, and in the smile with which she in- vited the fine lady to be seated. She received the impression that the poor woman had seen better days, although her movements were bouncing rath- er than refined, and her smile was far from pleas- ant. The long train of Mrs. Warden's pearl-gray visit- ing dress spread over the grimy floor, and as she stooped and drew it to her she could not help thinking of an expression of Heine's, " She looked like a bon-bon which has fallen in the mire." The conversation began, and was carried on as such conversations usually are. If each had kept to her own language and her own line of thought, neither of these two women would have understood a word that the other said. But as the poor always know the rich much bet- ter than the rich know the poor, the latter have at last acquired a peculiar dialect a particular tone which experience has taught them to use when they are anxious to make themselves understood that is to say, understood in such a way as to in- cline the wealthy to beneficence. Nearer to each other they can never come. Of this dialect the poor woman was a perfect mistress, and Mrs. Warden had soon a general idea of her miserable case. She had two children a boy of four or five, who was lying on the floor, and a baby at the breast. A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 121 Mrs. Warden gazed at the pallid little creature, and could not believe that it was thirteen months old. At home in his cradle she herself had a little colossus of seven months, who was at least half as big again as this child. "You must give the baby something strengthen- ing," she said ; and she had visions of phosphate food and orange jelly. At the words " something strengthening," a shag- gy head looked up from the bedstraw ; it belonged to a pale, hollow-eyed man with a large woollen comforter wrapped round his jaws. Mrs. Warden was frightened. " Your husband ?" she asked. The poor woman answered yes, it was her hus- band. He had not gone to work to-day because he had such bad toothache. Mrs. Warden had had toothache herself, and knew how painful it is. She uttered some words of sincere sympathy. The man muttered something, and lay back again ; and at the same moment Mrs. Warden dis- covered an inmate of the room whom she had not hitherto observed. It was a quite young girl, who was seated in the corner at the other side of the stove. She stared for a moment at the fine lady, but quickly drew back her head and bent forward, so that the visitor could see little but her back. Mrs. Warden thought the girl had some sewing 122 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. in her lap which she wanted to hide ; perhaps it was some old garment she was mending. " Why does the big boy lie upon the floor ?" asked Mrs. Warden. " He's lame," answered the mother. And now followed a detailed account of the poor boy's case, with many lamentations. He had been attacked with hip-disease after the scarlet-fever. " You must buy him " began Mrs. Warden, in- tending to say, " a wheel-chair." But it occurred to her that she had better buy it herself. It is not wise to let poor people get too much money into their hands. But she would give the woman some- thing at once. Here was real need, a genuine case for help ; and she felt in her pocket for her purse. It was not there. How annoying she must have left it in the carriage. Just as she was turning to the woman to express her regret, and promise to send some money pres- ently, the door opened, and a well-dressed gentle- man entered. His face was very full, and of a sort of dry, mealy pallor. " Mrs. Warden, I presume ?" said the stranger. " I saw your carriage out in the street, and I have brought you this your purse, is it not ?" Mrs. Warden looked at it yes, certainly, it was hers, with E. W. inlaid in black on the polished ivory. " I happened to see it, as I turned the corner, in the hands of a girl one of the most disreputable A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 123 in the quarter," the stranger explained ; adding, " I am the poor-law inspector of the district." Mrs. Warden thanked him, although she did not at all like his appearance. But when she again looked round the room she was quite alarmed by the change which had taken place in its occupants. The husband sat upright in the bed and glared at the fat gentleman, the wife's face wore an ugly smile, and even the poor wee cripple had scram- bled towards the door, and resting on his lean arms, stared upward like a little animal. And in all these eyes there was the same hate, the same aggressive defiance. Mrs. Warden felt as though she were now separated by an immense interval from the poor woman with whom she had just been talking so openly and confidentially. " So that's the state you're in to-day, Martin," said the gentleman, in quite a different voice. " I thought you'd been in that affair last night. Never mind, they're coming for you this afternoon. It'll be a two months' business." All of a sudden the torrent was let loose. The man and woman shouted each other down, the girl behind the stove came forward and joined in, the cripple shrieked and rolled about. It was impos- sible to distinguish the words ; but what between voices, eyes, and hands, it seemed as though the stuffy little room must fly asunder with all the wild passion exploding in it. Mrs. Warden turned pale and rose, the gentleman 124 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. opened the door, and both hastened out. As she passed down the passage she heard a horrible burst of feminine laughter behind her. It must be the woman the same woman who had spoken so soft- ly and despondently about the poor children. She felt half angry with the man who had brought about this startling change, and as they now walked side by side up the street she listened to him with a cold and distant expression. But gradually her bearing changed; there was really so much in what he said. The poor-law inspector told her what a pleasure it was to him to find a lady like Mrs. Warden so compassionate towards the poor. Though it was much to be deplored that even the most well-meant help so often came into unfortunate hands, yet there was always something fine and ennobling in seeing a lady like Mrs. Warden " But," she interrupted, " aren't these people in the utmost need of help ? I received the impres- sion that the woman in particular had seen better days, and that a little timely aid might perhaps en- able her to recover herself." " I am sorry to have to tell you, madam," said the poor-law inspector, in a tone of mild regret, " that she was formerly a very notorious woman of the town." Mrs. Warden shuddered. She had spoken to such a woman, and spoken about children. She had even mentioned her own A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 125 child, lying at home in its innocent cradle. She al- most felt as though she must hasten home to make sure it was still as clean and wholesome as before. "And the young girl ?" she asked, timidly. " No doubt you noticed her her condition." " No. You mean " The fat gentleman whispered some words. Mrs. Warden started : " By the man ! the man of the house ?" " Yes, madam, I am sorry to have to tell you so ; but you can understand that these people " and he whispered again. This was too much for Mrs. Warden. She turned almost dizzy, and accepted the gentleman's arm. They now walked rapidly towards the carriage, which was standing a little farther off than the spot at which she had left it. For the immovable one had achieved a feat which even the humorist had acknowledged with an elaborate oath. After sitting for some time, stiff as a poker, he had backed his sleek horses, step by step, until they reached a spot where the street widened a little, though the difference was imperceptible to any other eyes than those of an accomplished coach- man. A whole pack of ragged children swarmed about the carriage, and did all they could to upset the composure of the sleek steeds. But the spirit of the immovable one was in them. 126 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. After having measured with a glance of perfect composure the distance between two flights of steps, one on each side of the street, he made the sleek pair turn, slowly and step by step, so short and sharp that it seemed as though the elegant carriage must be crushed to fragments, but so ac- curately that there was not an inch too much or too little on either side. Now he once more sat stiff as a poker, still meas- uring with his eyes the distance between the steps. He even made a mental note of the number of a constable who had watched the feat, in order to have a witness to appeal to if his account of it should be received with scepticism at the stables. Mrs. Warden allowed the poor-law inspector to hand her into the carriage. She asked him to call upon her the following day, and gave him her ad- dress. "To Advocate Abel's !" she cried to the coach- man. The fat gentleman lifted his hat with a mealy smile, and the carriage rolled away. As they gradually left the poor quarter of the town behind, the motion of the carriage became smoother, and the pace increased. And when they emerged upon the broad avenue leading through the villa quarter, the sleek pair snorted with enjoy- ment of the pure, delicate air from the gardens, and the immovable one indulged, without any sort of necessity, in three masterly cracks of his whip. Mrs. Warden, too, was conscious of the delight A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 127 of finding herself once more in the fresh air. The experiences she had gone through, and, still more, what she had heard from the inspector, had had an almost numbing effect upon her. She began to realize the immeasurable distance between herself and such people as these. She had often thought there was something quite too sad, nay, almost cruel, in the text : " Many are called, but few are chosen." Now she understood that it could not be other- wise. How could people so utterly depraved ever attain an elevation at all adequate to the demands of a strict morality ? What must be the state of these wretched creatures' consciences ? And how should they be able to withstand the manifold tempta- tions of life ? She knew only too well what temptation meant ! Was she not incessantly battling against a tempta- tion perhaps the most perilous of all the tempta- tion of riches, about which the Scriptures said so many hard things ? She shuddered to think of what would happen if that brutish man and these miserable women sud- denly had riches placed in their hands. Yes, wealth was indeed no slight peril to the soul. It was only yesterday that her husband had tempted her with such a delightful little man-serv- ant a perfect English groom. But she had resist- ed the temptation, and answered : " NQ, Warden, it 128 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. would not be right; I will not have a footman on the box. I dare say we can afford it ; but let us be- ware of overweening luxury. I assure you I don't require help to get into the carriage and out of it ; I won't even let the coachman get down on my ac- count." It did her good to think of this now, and her eyes rested complacently on the empty seat on the box, beside the immovable one. Mrs. Abel, who was busy clearing away Bazars and scraps of stuff from the big table, was aston- ished to see her friend return so soon. " Why, Emily ! Back again already ? I've just been telling the dress-maker that she can go. What you were saying to me has quite put me out of con- ceit of my new frock ; I can quite well get on with- out one " said good-natured Mrs. Abel ; but her lips trembled a little as she spoke. " Every one must act according to his own con- science," answered Mrs. Warden, quietly, " but I think it's possible to be too scrupulous." Mrs. Abel looked up ; she had not expected this. "Just let me tell you what I've gone through," said Mrs. Warden, and began her story. She sketched her first impression of the stuffy room and the wretched people ; then she spoke of the theft of her purse. "My husband always declares that people of that kind can't refrain from stealing," said Mrs. Abel. A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 129 " I'm afraid your husband is nearer the truth than we thought," replied Mrs. Warden. Then she told about the inspector, and the in- gratitude these people had displayed towards the man who cared for them day by day. But when she came to what she had heard of the poor woman's past life, and still more when she told about the young girl, Mrs. Abel was so overcome that she had to ask the servant to bring some port-wine. When th,e girl brought in the tray with the de- canter, Mrs. Abel whispered to her : " Tell the dress- maker to wait." " And then, can you conceive it," Mrs. Warden continued " I scarcely know how to tell you " and she whispered. " What do you say ! In one bed ! All ! Why, it's revolting !" cried Mrs. Abel, clasping her hands. " Yes, an hour ago I, too, could not have believed it possible," answered Mrs. Warden, " But when you've been on the spot yourself, and seen with your own eyes " " Good heavens, Emily, how could you venture into such a place !" " I am glad I did, and still more glad of the hap- py chance that brought the inspector on the scene just at the right time. For if it is ennobling to bring succor to the virtuous poor who live clean and frugal lives in their humble sphere, it would be 9 130 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. unpardonable to help such people as these to grati- fy their vile proclivities." " Yes, you're quite right, Emily ! What I can't understand is how people in a Christian communi- ty people who have been baptized and confirmed can sink into such a state! Have they not ev- ery day or, at any rate, every Sunday the oppor- tunity of listening to powerful and impressive ser- mons ? And Bibles, I am told, are to be had for an incredibly trifling sum." "Yes, and only to think," added Mrs. Warden, " that not even the heathen, who are without all these blessings that not even they have any ex- cuse for evil-doing; for they have conscience to guide them." " And I'm sure conscience speaks clearly enough to every one who has the will to listen," Mrs. Abel exclaimed, with emphasis. "Yes, heaven knows it does," answered Mrs. Warden, gazing straight before her with a serious smile. When the friends parted, they exchanged warm embraces Mrs. Warden grasped the ivory handle, entered the carriage, and drew her train after her. Then she closed the carriage door not with a slam, but slowly and carefully. "To Madame Labiche's !" she called to the coachman ; then, turning to her friend who had accompanied her right down to the garden gate, A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 131 she said, with a quiet smile : " Now, thank heaven, I can order my silk dress with a good conscience." " Yes, indeed you can !" exclaimed Mrs. Abel, watching her with tears in her eyes. Then she hastened in-doors. ROMANCE AND REALITY. ROMANCE AND REALITY. " JUST you get married as soon as you can," said Mrs. Olsen. " Yes, I can't understand why it shouldn't be this very autumn," exclaimed the elder Miss Ludvigsen, who was an enthusiast for ideal love. " Oh, yes !" cried Miss Louisa, who was certain to be one of the bridesmaids. " But Soren says he can't afford it," answered the bride elect, somewhat timidly. " Can't afford it !" repeated Miss Ludvigsen. " To think of a young girl using such an expres- sion ! If you're going to let your new-born love be overgrown with prosaic calculations, what will be left of the ideal halo which love alone can cast over life ? That a man should be alive to these consid- erations I can more or less understand it's in a way his duty ; but for a sensitive, womanly heart, in the heyday of sentiment ! No, no, Marie ; for heaven's sake, don't let these sordid money-ques- tions darken your happiness." " Oh, no !" cried Miss Louisa. 136 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. "And, besides," Mrs. Olsen chimed in, "your fiance is by no means so badly off. My husband and I began life on much less. I know you'll say that times were different then. Good heavens, we all know that ! What I can't understand is that you don't get tired of telling us so. Don't you think that we old people, who have gone through the transition period, have the best means of compar- ing the requirements of to-day with those of our youth ? You can surely understand that with my experience of house-keeping, I'm not likely to disre- gard the altered conditions of life ; and yet I assure you that the salary your intended receives from my husband, with what he can easily earn by extra work, is quite sufficient to set up house upon." Mrs. Olsen had become quite eager in her argu- ment, though no one thought of contradicting her. She had so often, in conversations of this sort, been irritated to hear people, and especially young mar- ried women, enlarging on the ridiculous cheapness of everything thirty years ago. She felt as though they wanted to make light of the exemplary fashion in which she had conducted her household. This conversation made a deep impression on ihejianrte, for she had great confidence in Mrs. Olsen's shrewdness and experience. Since Marie had become engaged to the Sheriff's clerk, the Sheriffs wife had taken a keen interest in her. She was an energetic woman, and, as her own chil- dren were already grown up and married, she found ROMANCE AND REALITY. 137 a welcome outlet for her activity in busying herself with the concerns of the young couple. Marie's mother, on the other hand, was a very retiring woman. Her husband, a subordinate gov- ernment official, had died so early that her pension was extremely scanty. She came of a good family, and had learned nothing in her girlhood except to play the piano. This accomplishment she had long ceased to practise, and in the course of time had become exceedingly religious. "Look here, now, my dear fellow, aren't you thinking of getting nlarried ?" asked the Sheriff, in his genial way. " Oh yes," answered Soren, with some hesita- tion, " when I can afford it. "Afford it!" the Sheriff repeated; "Why, you're by no means so badly off. I know you have some- thing laid by " " A trifle," Soren put in. " Well, so be it ; but it shows, at any rate, that you have an idea of economy, and that's as good as money in your pocket. You came out high in your examination ; and, with your family influence and other advantages at headquarters, you needn't wait long before applying for some minor appointment ; and once in the way of promotion, you know, you go ahead in spite of yourself." Soren bit his pen and looked interested. " Let us assume," continued his principal, " that, thanks to your economy, you can set up house with- 138 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. out getting into any debt worth speaking of. Then you'll have your salary clear, and whatever you can earn in addition by extra work. It would be strange, indeed, if a man of your ability could not find employment for his leisure time in a rising commercial centre like ours." Soren reflected all forenoon on what the Sheriff had said. He saw, more and more clearly, that he had over-estimated the financial obstacles to his marriage; and, after all, it was true that he had a good deal of time on his hands out of office hours. He was engaged to dine with his principal ; and his intended, too, was to be there. On the whole, the young people perhaps met quite as often at the Sheriff's as at Marie's home. For the peculiar knack which Mrs. Moller, Marie's mother, had ac- quired, of giving every conversation a religious turn, was not particularly attractive to them. There was much talk at table of a lovely little house which Mrs. Olsen had discovered ; "A per- fect nest for a newly - married couple," as she ex- pressed herself. Soren inquired, in passing, as to the financial conditions, and thought them reason- able enough, if the place answered to his hostess's description. Mrs. Olsen's anxiety to see this marriage hur- ried on was due in the first place, as above hinted, to her desire for mere occupation, and, in the sec- ond place, to a vague longing for some event, of ROMANCE AND REALITY. 139 whatever nature, to happen a psychological phe- nomenon by no means rare in energetic natures, living narrow and monotonous lives. The Sheriff worked in the same direction, partly in obedience to his wife's orders, and partly because he thought that Soren's marriage to Marie, who owed so much to his family, would form another tie to bind him to the office for the Sheriff was pleased with his clerk. After dinner the young couple strolled about the garden. They conversed in an odd, short-winded fashion, until at last Soren, in a tone which was meant to be careless, threw out the suggestion : "What should you say to getting married this au- tumn ?" Marie forgot to express surprise. The same thought had been running in her own head ; so she answered, looking to the ground: "Well, if you think you can afford it, I can have no objection." " Suppose we reckon the thing out," said Soren, and drew her towards the summer-house. Half an hour afterwards they came out, arm-in- arm, into the sunshine. They, too, seemed to radi- ate light the glow of a spirited resolution, formed after ripe thought and serious counting of the cost. Some people might, perhaps, allege that it would be rash to assume the absolute correctness of a calculation merely from the fact that two lovers have arrived at exactly the same total ; especially 140 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. when the problem happens to bear upon the choice between renunciation and the supremest bliss. In the course of the calculation Soren had not been without misgivings. He remembered how, in his student days, he had spoken largely of our duty towards posterity ; how he had philosophically demonstrated the egoistic element in love, and pro- pounded the ludicrous question whether people had a right, in pure heedlessness as it were, to bring children into the world. But time and practical life had, fortunately, cured him of all taste for these idle and dangerous men- tal gymnastics. And, besides, he was far too prop- er and well-bred to shock his innocent lady-love by taking into account so indelicate a possibility as that of their having a large family. Is it not one of the charms of young love that it should leave such matters as these to heaven and the stork ?* There was great jubilation at the Sheriff's, and not there alone. Almost the whole town was thrown into a sort of fever by the intelligence that the Sheriff's clerk was to be married in the autumn. Those who were sure of an invitation to the wed- ding were already looking forward to it ; those who could not hope to be invited fretted and said spite- ful things ; while those whose case was doubtful were half crazy with suspense. And all emotions have their value in a stagnant little town. * The stork, according to common nursery legends, brings babies under its wing. ROMANCE AND REALITY. 141 Mrs. Olsen was a woman of courage ; yet her heart beat as she set forth to call upon Mrs. Moller. It is no light matter to ask a mother to let her daughter be married from your house. But she might have spared herself all anxiety. For Mrs. Moller shrank from every sort of exer- tion almost as much as she shrank from sin in all its forms. Therefore she was much relieved by Mrs. Olsen's proposition, introduced with a delicacy which did not always characterize that lady's proceedings. However, it was not Mrs. Moller's way to make any show of pleasure or satisfaction. Since everything, in one way or another, was a " cross " to be borne, she did not fail, even in this case, to make it appear that her long-suffering was proof against every trial. Mrs. Olsen returned home beaming. She would have been balked of half her pleasure in this mar- riage if she had not been allowed to give the wedding- party; for wedding-parties were Mrs. Olsen's spe- cialty. On such occasions she put her economy aside, and the satisfaction she felt in finding an opening for all her energies made her positively ami- able. After all, the Sheriff's post was a good one, and the Olsens had always had a little property be- sides, which, however, they never talked about. So the wedding came off, and a splendid wed- ding it was. Miss Ludvigsen had written an un- rhymed song about true love, which was sung at the feast, and Louisa eclipsed all the other brides- maids. 142 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. The newly-married couple took up their quarters in the nest discovered by Mrs. Olsen, and plunged into that half-conscious existence of festal felicity which the English call the " honeymoon," because it is too sweet ; the Germans, " Flitterwochen," be- cause its glory departs so quickly; and we "the wheat-bread days " because we know that there is coarser fare to follow. But in Soren's cottage the wheat -bread days lasted long; and when heaven sent them a little angel with golden locks, their happiness was as great as we can by any means expect in this weary world. As for the incomings well, they were fairly ade- quate, though Soren had, unfortunately, not suc- ceeded in making a start without getting into debt ; but that would, no doubt, come right in time. Yes, in time ! The years passed, and with each of them heaven sent Soren a little golden- locked angel. After six years of marriage they had exactly five children. The quiet little town was unchanged, Soren was still the Sheriff's clerk, and the Sheriff's household was as of old ; but Soren himself was scarcely to be recognized. They tell of sorrows and heavy blows of fate which can turn a man's hair gray in a night. Such afflictions had not fallen to Soren's lot The sor- rows that had sprinkled his hair with gray, rounded his shoulders, and made him old before his time, were of a lingering and vulgar type. They were bread-sorrows. ROMANCE AND REALITY. 143 Bread-sorrows are to other sorrows as toothache to other disorders. A simple pain can be con- quered in open fight ; a nervous fever, or any other " regular " illness, goes through a normal develop- ment and comes to a crisis. But while toothache has the long-drawn sameness of the tape-worm, bread - sorrows envelop their victim like a grimy cloud : he puts them on every morning with his threadbare clothes, and he seldom sleeps so deep- ly as to forget them. It was in the long fight against encroaching pov- erty that Soren had worn himself out; and yet he was great at economy. But there are two sorts of economy : the active and the passive. Passive economy thinks day and night of the way to save a half-penny ; active econ- omy broods no less intently on the way to earn a dollar. The first sort of economy, the passive, prevails among us ; the active in the great nations chiefly in America. Soren's strength lay in the passive direction. He devoted all his spare time and some of his office-hours to thinking out schemes for saving and retrenchment. But whether it was that the luck was against him, or, more probably, that his in- come was really too small to support a wife and five children in any case, his financial position went from bad to worse. Every place in life seems filled to the uttermost, and yet there are people who make their way every- 144 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. where. Soren did not belong to this class. He sought in vain for the extra work on which he and Marie had reckoned as a vague but ample source of income. Nor had his good connections availed him aught. There are always plenty of people ready to help young men of promise who can help them- selves ; but the needy father of a family is never welcome. Soren had been a man of many friends. It could not be said that they had drawn back from him, but he seemed somehow to have disappeared from their view. When they happened to meet, there was a certain embarrassment on both sides. Soren no longer cared for the things that interested them, and they were bored when he held forth upon the severity of his daily grind, and the expensiveness of living. And if, now and then, one of his old friends in- vited him to a bachelor-party, he did as people are apt to do whose every-day fare is extremely frugal : he ate and drank too much. The lively but well- bred and circumspect Soren declined into a sort of butt, who made rambling speeches, and around whom the young whelps of the party would gather after dinner to make sport for themselves. But what impressed his friends most painfully of all, was his utter neglect of his personal appearance. For he had once been extremely particular in his dress ; in his student days he had been called " the exquisite Soren." And even after his marriage he ROMANCE AND REALITY. 145 had for some time contrived to wear his modest attire with a certain air. But after bitter necessity had forced him to keep every garment in use an unnaturally long time, his vanity had at last given way. And when once a man's sense of personal neatness is impaired, he is apt to lose it utterly. When a new coat became absolutely necessary, it was his wife that had to awaken him to the fact ; and when his collars became quite too ragged at the edges, he trimmed them with a pair of scissors. He had other things to think about, poor fellow. But when people came into the office, or when he was entering another person's house, he had a purely mechanical habit of moistening his fingers at his lips, and rubbing the lapels of his coat. This was the sole relic of "the exquisite Soren's" ex- quisiteness like one of the rudimentary organs, dwindled through lack of use, which zoologists find in certain animals. Soren's worst enemy, however, dwelt within him. In his youth he had dabbled in philosophy, and this baneful passion for thinking would now attack him from time to time, crushing all resistance, and, in the end, turning everything topsy-turvy. It was when he thought about his children that this befell him. When he regarded these little creatures, who, as he could not conceal from himself, became more and more neglected as time went on, he found it impossible to place them under the category of I4& TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. golden-locked angels had sent him by heaven. He had to admit that heaven does not send us these gifts without a certain inducement on our side ; and then Soren asked himself : " Had you any right to do this ?" He thought of his own life, which had begun under fortunate conditions. His family had been in easy circumstances ; his father, a govern- ment official, had given him the best education to be had in the country; he had gone forth to the battle of life fully equipped and what had come of it all ? And how could he equip his children for the fight into which he was sending them ? They had begun their life in need and penury, which had, as far as possible, to be concealed ; they had early learned the bitter lesson of the disparity between inward expectations and demands and outward circum- stances ; and from their slovenly home they would take with them the most crushing inheritance, per- haps, under which a man can toil through life; to wit, poverty with pretensions. Soren tried to tell himself that heaven would take care of them. But he was ashamed to do so, for he felt it was only a phrase of self-excuse, de- signed to allay the qualms of conscience. These thoughts were his worst torment; but, truth to tell, they did not often attack him, for Soren had sunk into apathy. That was the Sher- iff's view of his case. " My clerk was quite a clever fellow in his time," he used to say. " But, you ROMANCE AND REALITY. 147 know, his hasty marriage, his large family, and all that in short, he has almost done for himself." Badly dressed and badly fed, beset with debts and cares, he was worn out and weary before he had accomplished anything. And life went its way, and Soren dragged himself along in its train. He seemed to be forgotten by all save heaven, which, as aforesaid, sent him year by year a little angel with locks of gold Soren's young wife had clung faithfully to her husband through these six years, and she, too, had reached the same point. The first year of her married life had glided away like a dream of dizzy bliss. When she held up the little golden-locked angel for the admiration of her lady friends, she was beautiful with the beauty of perfect maternal happiness ; and Miss Ludvigsen said : " Here is love in its ideal form." But Mrs. Olsen's " nest " soon became too small ; the family increased while the income stood still. She was daily confronted by new claims, new cares, and new duties. Marie set stanchly to work, for she was a courageous and sensible woman. It is not one of the so-called elevating employ- ments to have charge of a houseful of little chil- dren, with no means of satisfying even moderate requirements in respect of comfort and well-being. In addition to this, she was never thoroughly ro- bust ; she oscillated perpetually between having just had, and being just about to have, a child. As she 148 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. toiled from morning to night, she lost her buoyancy of spirit, and her mind became bitter. She some- times asked herself : " What is the meaning of it all ?" She saw the eagerness of young girls to be mar- ried, and the air of self-complacency with which young men offer to marry them ; she thought of her own experience, and felt as though she had been befooled. But it was not right of Marie to think thus, for she had been excellently brought up. The view of life to which she had from the first been habituated, was the only beautiful one, the only one that could enable her to preserve her ideals intact. No unlovely and prosaic theory of existence had ever cast its shadow over her devel- opment ; she knew that love is the most beautiful thing on earth, that it transcends reason and is consummated in marriage ; as to children, she had learned to blush when they were mentioned. A strict watch had always been kept upon her reading. She had read many earnest volumes on the duties of woman ; she knew that her happiness lies in being loved by a man, and that her mission is to be his wife. She knew how evil-disposed peo- ple will often place obstacles between two lovers, but she knew, too, that true love will at last emerge victorious from the fight. When people met with disaster in the battle of life, it was because they were false to the ideal. She had faith in the ideal, although she did not know what it was. ROMANCE AND REALITY. 149 She knew and loved those poets whom she was allowed to read. Much of their erotics she only half understood, but that made it all the more love- ly. She knew that marriage was a serious, a very serious thing, for which a clergyman was indispen- sable ; and she understood that marriages are made in heaven, as engagements are made in the ball- room. But when, in these youthful days, she pict- ured to herself this serious institution, she seemed to be looking into an enchanted grove, with Cupids weaving garlands, and storks bringing little golden- locked angels under their wings ; while before a little cabin in the background, which yet was large enough to contain all the bliss in the world, sat the ideal married couple, gazing into the depths of each other's eyes. No one had ever been so ill-bred as to say to her : " Excuse me, young lady, would you not like to come with me to a different point of view, and look at the matter from the other side ? How if it should turn out to be a mere set-scene of painted pasteboard ?" Soren's young wife had now had ample opportu- nities of studying the set-scene from the other side. Mrs. Olsen had at first come about her early and late, and overwhelmed her with advice and criti- cism. Both Soren and his wife were many a time heartily tired of her ; but they owed the Olsens so much. Little by little, however, the old lady's zeal cooled I$0 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. down. When the young people's house was no longer so clean, so orderly, and so exemplary that she could plume herself upon her work, she gradu- ally withdrew; and when Soren's wife once in a while came to ask her for advice or assistance, the Sheriff's lady would mount her high horse, until Marie ceased to trouble her. But if, in society, conversation happened to fall upon the Sheriff's clerk, and any one expressed compassion for his poor wife, with her many children and her miser- able income, Mrs. Olsen would not fail to put in her word with great decision: "I can assure you it would be just the same if Marie had twice as much to live on and no children at all. You see, she's " and Mrs. Olsen made a motion with her hands, as if she were squandering something abroad, to right and left. Marie seldom went to parties, and if she did appear, in her at least ten -times -altered marriage dress, it was generally to sit alone in a corner, or to carry on a tedious conversation with a similarly situated housewife about the dearness of the times and the unreasonableness of servant-girls. And the young ladies who had gathered the gen- tlemen around them, either in the middle of the room or wherever they found the most comfortable chairs to stretch themselves in, whispered to each other : " How tiresome it is that young married women can never talk about anything but house- keeping and the nursery." ROMANCE AND REALITY. 15 1 In the early days, Marie had often had visits from her many friends. They were enchanted with her charming house, and the little golden -locked angel had positively to be protected from their greedy admiration. But when one of them now chanced to stray in her direction, it was quite a different affair. There was no longer any golden- locked angel to be exhibited in a clean, embroid- ered frock with red ribbons. The children, who were never presentable without warning, were hud- dled hastily away dropping their toys about the floor, forgetting to pick up half -eaten pieces of bread-and-butter from the chairs, and leaving be- hind them that peculiar atmosphere which one can, at most, endure in one's own children. Day after day her life dragged on in ceaseless toil. Many a time, when she heard her husband bemoaning the drudgery of his lot, she thought to herself with a sort of defiance : " I wonder which of us two has the harder work ?" In one respect she was happier than her hus- band. Philosophy did not enter into her dreams, and when she could steal a quiet moment for reflec- tion, her thoughts were very different from the cog- itations of the poor philosopher. She had no silver plate to polish, no jewelry to take out and deck herself with. But, in the in- most recess of her heart, she treasured all the mem- ories of the first year of her marriage, that year of romantic bliss ; and these memories she would 152 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. furbish and furbish afresh, till they shone brighter with every year that passed. But when the weary and despondent housewife, in all secrecy, decked herself out with these jewels of memory, they did not succeed in shedding any brightness over her life in the present. She was scarcely conscious of any connection between the golden-locked angel with the red ribbons and the five-year-old boy who lay grubbing in the dark back yard. These moments snatched her quite away from reality ; they were like opium dreams. Then some one would call for her from an ad- joining room, or one of the children would be brought in howling from the street, with a great bump on its forehead. Hastily she would hide away her treasures, resume her customary air of hopeless weariness, and plunge once more into her labyrinth of duties and cares. Thus had this marriage fared, and thus did this couple toil onward. They both dragged at the same heavy load ; but did they drag in unison ? It is sad, but it is true : when the manger is empty, the horses bite each other. There was a great chocolate -party at the Misses Ludvigsen's all maiden ladies. "For married women are so prosaic," said the elder Miss Ludvigsen. " Uh, yes !" cried Louisa. Every one was in the most vivacious humor, as is generally the case in such company and on such ROMANCE AND REALITY. 153 an occasion ; and, as the gossip went the round of the town, it arrived in time at Soren's door. All were agreed that it was a most unhappy marriage, and a miserable home ; some pitied, others con- demned. Then the elder Miss Ludvigsen, with a certain solemnity, expressed herself as follows : " I can tell you what was at fault in that marriage, for I know the circumstances thoroughly. Even before her marriage there was something calculating, some- thing almost prosaic in Marie's nature, which is en- tirely foreign to true, ideal love. This fault has since taken the upperhand, and is avenging itself cruelly upon both of them. Of course their means are not great, but what could that matter to two people who truly loved each other? for we know that happiness is not dependent on wealth. Is it not precisely in the humble home that the omnipo- tence of love is most beautifully made manifest ? And, besides, who can call these two poor ? Has not heaven richly blessed them with healthy, sturdy children ? These these are their true wealth ! And if their hearts had been filled with true, ideal love, then then " Miss Ludvigsen came to a momentary stand- still. " What then ?" asked a courageous young lady. " Then," continued Miss Ludvigsen, loftily, "then we should certainly have seen a very different lot in life assigned to them." 154 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. The courageous young lady felt ashamed of her- jelf. There was a pause, during which Miss Ludvig- sen's words sank deep into all hearts. They all felt that this was the truth ; any doubt and uneasi- ness that might perhaps have lurked here and there vanished away. All were confirmed in their stead- fast and beautiful faith in true, ideal love ; for they were all maiden ladies. WITHERED LEAVES. WITHERED LEAVES. You may tire of looking at a single painting, but you must tire of looking at many. That is why the eyelids grow so heavy in the great galleries, and the seats are as closely packed as an omnibus on Sun- day. Happy he who has resolution enough to select from the great multitude a small number of pict- ures, to which he can return every day. In this way you can appropriate undetected by the custodians a little private gallery of your own, distributed through the great halls. Everything which does not belong to this private collection sinks into mere canvas and gilding, a decoration you glance at in passing, but which does not fatigue the eye. It happens now and then that you discover a pict- ure, hitherto overlooked, which now, after thorough examination, is admitted as one of the select few. The assortment thus steadily increases, and it is even conceivable that by systematically following this method you might make a whole picture-gallery, in this sense, your private property. 158 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. But as a rule there is no time for that. You must rapidily take your bearings, putting a cross in the catalogue against the pictures you think of annex- ing, just as a forester marks his trees as he goes through the wood. These private collections, as a matter of course, are of many different kinds. One may often search them in vain for the great, recognized masterpieces, while one may find a little, unconsidered picture in the place of honor ; and in order to understand the odd arrangement of many of these small collec- tions, one must take as one's cicerone the person whose choice they represent. Here, now, is a pict- ure from a private gallery. There hung in a corner of the Salon of 1878 a pict- ure by the English painter Mr. Everton Sainsbury. It made no sensation whatever. It was neither large enough nor small enough to arouse idle curi- osity, nor was there a trace of modern extravagance either in composition or in color. As people passed they gave it a sympathetic glance, for it made a harmonious impression, and the subject was familiar and easily understood. It represented two lovers who had slightly fallen out, and people smiled as each in his own mind thought of those charming little quarrels which are so vehement and so short, which arise from the most improbable and most varied causes, but invariably end in a kiss. And yet this picture attracted to itself its own WITHERED LEAVES. 159 special public; you could see that it was adopted into several private collections. As you made your way towards the well-known corner, you would often find the place occupied by a solitary person standing lost in contemplation. At different times, you would come upon all sorts of different people thus absorbed ; but they all had the same peculiar expression before that picture, as if it cast a faded, yellowish reflection. If you approached, the gazer would probably move away ; it seemed as though only one person at a time could enjoy that work of art as though one must be entirely alone with it. In a corner of the garden, right against the high wall, stands an open summer-house. It is quite simply built of green lattice-work, which forms a large arch backed by the wall. The whole summer- house is covered with a wild vine, which twines it- self from the left side over the arched roof, and droops its slender branches on the right. It is late autumn. The summer-house has al- ready lost its thick roof of foliage. Only the youngest and most delicate tendrils of the wild vine have any leaves left. Before they fall, depart- ing summer lavishes on them all the color it has left; like light sprays of red and yellow flowers, they hang yet a while to enrich the garden with autumn's melancholy splendor. The fallen leaves are scattered all around, and right before the summer-house the wind has with l6o TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. great diligence whirled the loveliest of them to- gether, into a neat little round cairn. The trees are already leafless, and on a naked branch sits the little garden-warbler with its rust- brown breast like a withered leaf left hanging and repeats untiringly a little fragment which it re- members of its spring-song. The only thriving thing in the whole picture is the ivy ; for ivy, like sorrow, is fresh both summer and winter. It comes creeping along with its soft feelers, it thrusts itself into the tiniest chinks, it forces its way through the minutest crannies ; and not until it has waxed wide and strong do we realize that it can no longer be rooted up, but will inexorably strangle whatever it has laid its clutches on. Ivy, however, is like well-bred sorrow ; it cloaks its devastations with fair and glossy leaves. Thus people wear a glossy mask of smiles, feigning to be unaware of the ivy-clad ruins among which their lot is cast. In the middle of the open summer-house sits a young girl on a rush chair ; both hands rest in her lap. She is sitting with bent head and a strange expression in her beautiful face. It is not vexation or anger, still less is it commonplace sulkiness, that utters itself in her features; it is rather bitter and crushing disappointment. She looks as if she were on the point of letting something slip away from her which she has not the strength to hold WITHERED LEAVES. l6l fast as if something were withering between her hands. The man who is leaning with one hand upoi her chair is beginning to understand that the situa. tion is graver than he thought. He has done all he can to get the quarrel, so trivial in its origin, ad- justed and forgotten ; he has talked reason, he has tried playfulness ; he has besought forgiveness, and humbled himself perhaps more than he intended but all in vain. Nothing avails to arouse her out of the listless mood into which she has sunk. Thus it is with an expression of anxiety that he bends down towards her : " But you know that at heart we love each other so much." " Then why do we quarrel so easily, and why do we speak so bitterly and unkindly to each other ?" " Why, my dear ! the whole thing was the merest trifle from the first." " That's just it ! Do you remember what we said to each other ? How we vied with each other in trying to find the word we knew would be most wounding ? Oh, to think that we used our knowl- edge of each other's heart to find out the tender- est points, where an unkind word could strike home ! And this we call love !" "My dear, don't take it so solemnly," he an- swered, trying a lighter tone. "People may be ever so fond of each other, and yet disagree a little at times ; it can't be otherwise." "Yes, yes!" she cried, "there must be a love ii 1 62 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. for which discord is impossible, or else or else I have been mistaken, and what we call love is noth- ing but" " Have no doubts of love !" he interrupted her, eagerly; and he depicted in warm and eloquent words the feeling which ennobles humanity in teach- ing us to bear with each other's weaknesses ; which confers upon us the highest bliss, since, in spite of all petty disagreements, it unites us by the fairest ties. She had only half listened to him. Her eyes had wandered over the fading garden, she had in- haled the heavy atmosphere of dying vegetation and she had been thinking of the spring-time, of hope, of that all-powerful love which was now dying like an autumn flower. "Withered leaves," said she, quietly; and rising, she scattered with her foot all the beautiful leaves which the wind had taken such pains to heap to- gether. She went up the avenue leading to the house ; he followed close behind her. He was silent, for he found not a word to say. A drowsy feeling of uneasy languor came over him ; he asked himself whether he could overtake her, or whether she were a hundred miles away. She walked with her head bent, looking down at the flower-beds. There stood the asters like torn paper flowers upon withered potato-shaws ; the dahlias hung their stupid, crinkled heads upon WITHERED LEAVES. 163 their broken stems, and the hollyhocks showed small stunted buds at the top, and great wet, rot- ting flowers clustering down their stalks. And disappointment and bitterness cut deep into the young heart. As the flowers were dying, she was ripening for the winter of life. So they disappeared up the avenue. But the empty chair remained standing in the half-withered summer-house, while the wind busied itself afresh in piling up the leaves in a little cairn. And in the course of time we all come each in his turn to seat ourselves on the empty chair in a corner of the garden and gaze on a little cairn of withered leaves. THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. SINCE it is not only entertaining in itself, but also consonant with use and wont, to be in love ; and since in our innocent and moral society, one can so much the more safely indulge in these amatory di- versions as one runs no risk of being disturbed .either by vigilant fathers or pugnacious brothers ; and, finally, since one can as easily get out of as get into our peculiarly Norwegian form of betrothal a half-way house between marriage and free board in a good family all these things considered, I say, it was not wonderful that Cousin Hans felt pro- foundly unhappy. For he was not in the least in love. He had long lived in expectation of being seized by a kind of delirious ecstasy, which, if experienced people are to be trusted, is the infallible symptom of true love. But as nothing of the sort had happened, although he was already in his second year at col- lege, he said to himself : " After all, love is a lot- tery if you want to win, you must at least table your stake. 'Lend Fortune a helping hand,' as they say in the lottery advertisements." 1 68 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. He looked about him diligently, and closely ob- served his own heart. Like a fisher who sits with his line around his forefinger, watching for the least jerk, and wonder- ing when the bite will come, so Cousin Hans held his breath whenever he saw a young lady, won- dering whether he was now to feel that peculiar jerk which is well known to be inseparable from true love that jerk which suddenly makes all the blood rush to the heart, and then sends it just as suddenly up into the head, and makes your face flush red to the very roots of your hair. But never a bite came. His hair had long ago flushed red to the roots, for Cousin Hans's hair could not be called brown ; but his face remained as pale and as long as ever. The poor fisherman was growing quite weary, when he one day strolled down to the esplanade. He seated himself on a bench and observed, with a contemptuous air, a squad of soldiers engaged in the invigorating exercise of standing on one leg in the full sunshine, and wriggling their bodies so as to be roasted on both sides. "Nonsense!"* said Cousin Hans, indignantly; " it's certainly too dear a joke for a little country like ours to maintain acrobats of that sort. Didn't I see the other day that this so-called army requires 1500 boxes of shoe -blacking, 600 curry-combs, * The English word is used in the original. THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 169 3000 yards of gold-lace and 8640 brass buttons ? It would be better if we saved what we spend in gold- lace and brass buttons, and devoted our half- pence to popular enlightenment," said Cousin Hans. For he was infected by the modern ideas, which are unfortunately beginning to make way among us, and which will infallibly end in overthrowing the whole existing fabric of society. "Good-bye, then, for the present," said a lady's voice close behind him. " Good-bye for the present, my dear," answered a deep, masculine voice. Cousin Hans turned slowly, for it was a warm day. He discovered a military-looking old man in a close-buttoned black coat, with an order at his but- ton-hole, a neck-cloth twisted an incredible number of times around his throat, a well-brushed hat, and light trousers. The gentleman nodded to a young lady, who went off towards the town, and then con- tinued his walk along the ramparts. Weary of waiting as he was, Cousin Hans could not help following the young girl with his eyes as she hastened away. She was small and trim, and he observed with interest that she was one of the few women who do not make a little inward turn with the left foot as they lift it from the ground. This was a great merit in the young man's eyes ; for Cousin Hans was one of those sensitive, ob- servant natures who are alone fitted really to ap- preciate a woman at her full value. 170 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. After a few steps the lady turned, no doubt in or- der to nod once again to the old officer ; but by the merest chance her eyes met those of Cousin Hans. At last occurred what he had so long been ex- pecting : he felt the bite ! His blood rushed about just in the proper way, he lost his breath, his head became hot, a cold shiver ran down his back, and he grew moist between the fingers. In short, all the symptoms supervened which, according to the testimony of poets and experienced prose-writers, betoken real, true, genuine love. There was, indeed, no time to be lost. He hasti- ly snatched up his gloves, his stick, and his stu- dent's cap, which he had laid upon the bench, and set off after the lady across the esplanade and tow- ards the town. In the great, corrupt communities abroad this sort of thing is not allowable. There the condi- tions of life are so impure that a well-bred young man would never think of following a reputable woman. And the few reputable women there are in those nations, would be much discomposed to find themselves followed. But in our pure and moral atmosphere we can, fortunately, permit our young people somewhat greater latitude, just on account of the strict pro- priety of our habits. Cousin Hans, therefore, did not hesitate a mo- ment in obeying the voice of his heart ; and the THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 171 young lady, who soon observed what havoc she had made with the glance designed for the old soldier, felt the situation piquant and not unpleas- ing. The passers-by, who, of course, at once saw what was going on (be it observed that this is one of the few scenes of life in which the leading actors are quite unconscious of their audience), thought, for the most part, that the comedy was amusing to witness. They looked round and smiled to them- selves ; for they all knew that either it would lead to nothing, in which case it was only the most in- nocent of youthful amusements ; or it would lead to an engagement, and an engagement is the most delightful thing in the world. While they thus pursued their course at a fitting distance, now on the same sidewalk and now on opposite sides of the street, Cousin Hans had am- ple time for reflection. As to the fact of his being in love he was quite clear. The symptoms were all there; he knew that he was in for it, in for real, true, genuine, love ; and he was happy in the knowledge. Yes, so hap- py was Cousin Hans that he, who at other times was apt to stand upon his rights, accepted with a quiet, complacent smile all the jostlings and shoves, the smothered objurgations and other unpleasant- nesses, which inevitably befall any one who rushes hastily along a crowded street, keeping his eyes fixed upon an object in front of him. 172 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. No the love was obvious, indubitable. That settled, he tried to picture to himself the beloved one's, the heavenly creature's, mundane circum- stances. And there was no great difficulty in that ; she had been walking with her old father, had sud- denly discovered that it was past twelve o'clock, and had hastily said good-bye for the present, in order to go home and see to the dinner. For she was doubtless domestic, this sweet creature, and evidently motherless. The last conjecture was, perhaps, a result of the dread of mothers-in-law inculcated by all reputable authors ; but it was none the less confident on that account. And now it only remained for Cousin Hans to discover, in the first place, where she lived, in the second place who she was, and in the third place how he could make her acquaintance. Where she lived he would soon learn, for was she not on her way home ? Who she was, he could easily find out from the neighbors. And as for making her acquaintance good heavens! is not a little difficulty an indispensable part of a genu- ine romance ? Just as the chase was at its height, the quarry disappeared into a gate-way ; and it was really high time, for, truth to tell, the hunter was rather ex- hausted. He read with a certain relief the number, "34," over the gate, then went a few steps farther on, in order to throw any possible observer off the scent, and THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 173 stopped beside a street-lamp to recover his breath. It was, as aforesaid, a warm day ; and this, com- bined with his violent emotion, had thrown Hans into a strong perspiration. His toilet, too, had been disarranged by the reckless eagerness with which he had hurled himself into the chase. He could not help smiling at himself, as he stood and wiped his face and neck, adjusted his necktie, and felt his collar, which had melted on the sunny side. But it was a blissful smile ; he was in that frame of mind in which one sees, or at any rate apprehends, nothing of the external world ; and he said to himself, half aloud, " Love endures every- thing, accepts everything." " And perspires freely," said a fat little gentle- man whose white waistcoat suddenly came within Cousin Hans's range of vision. " Oh, is that you, uncle ?" he said, a little abashed. " Of course it is," answered Uncle Frederick. " I've left the shady side of the street expressly to save you from being roasted. Come along with me." Thereupon he tried to drag his nephew with him, but Hans resisted. " Do you know who lives at No. 34, uncle ?" "Not in the least; but do let us get into the shade," said Uncle Frederick; for there were two things he could not endure : heat and laughter the first on account of his corpulence, and the sec- ond on account of what he himself called " his apo- plectic tendencies." 174 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. " By-the-bye," he said, when they reached the cool side of the street, and he had taken his nephew by the arm, "now that I think of it, I do know, quite well, who lives in No. 34 ; it's old Captain Schrappe." " Do you know him?" asked Cousin Hans, anx- iously. "Yes, a little, just as half the town knows him, from having seen him on the esplanade, where he walks every day." "Yes, that was just where I saw him," said his nephew. "What an interesting old gentleman he looks. I should like so much to have a talk with him." "That wish you can easily gratify," answered Uncle Frederick. "You need only place yourself anywhere on the ramparts and begin drawing lines in the sand, then he'll come to you." "Come to you?" said Cousin Hans. " Yes, he'll come and talk to you. But you must be careful : he's dangerous." " Eh ?" said Cousin Hans. " He was once very nearly the end of me." " Ah ! said Cousin Hans. " Yes, with his talk, you understand." " Oh ?" said Cousin Hans. "You see, he has two stories," continued Uncle Frederick," the one, about a sham fight in Sweden, is a good half-hour long. But the other, the battle of Waterloo, generally lasts from an hour and a THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 175 half to two hours. I have heard it three times." And Uncle Frederick sighed deeply. " Are they so very tedious, then, these stories ?" asked Cousin Hans. " Oh, they're well enough for once in a way," an- swered his uncle, " and if you should get into con- versation with the captain, mark what I tell you : If you get off with the short story, the Swedish one, you have nothing to do but alternately to nod and shake your head. You'll soon pick up the lay of the land." " The lay of the land ?" said Cousin Hans. " Yes, you must know that he draws the whole manoeuvre for you in the sand ; but it's easy enough to understand if only you keep your eye on A and B. There's only one point where you must be careful not to put your foot in it. " " Does he get impatient, then, if you don't under- stand ?" asked Cousin Hans. "No, quite the contrary; but if you show that you're not following, he begins at the beginning again, you see ! The crucial point in the sham fight," continued his uncle, "is the movement made by the captain himself, in spite of the general's orders, which equally embarrassed both friends and foes. It was this stroke of genius, between our- selves, which forced them to give him the Order of the Sword, to induce him to retire. So when you come to this point, you must nod violent- ly, and say : ' Of course the only reasonable move 176 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. the key to the position.' Remember that the key." " The key," repeated Cousin Hans. " But," said his uncle, looking at him with antici- patory compassion, " if, in your youthful love of ad- venture, you should bring on yourself the long story, the one about Waterloo, you must either keep quite silent or have all your wits about you. I once had to swallow the whole description over again, only because, in my eagerness to show how thoroughly I understood the situation, I happened to move Kellermann's dragoons instead of Milhaud's cui- rassiers !" "What do you mean by moving the dragoons, uncle ?" asked Cousin Hans. "Oh, you'll understand well enough, if you come in for the long one. But," added Uncle Frederick, in a solemn tone, " beware, I warn you, beware of Bliicher !" " Bliicher ?" said Cousin Hans. " I won't say anything more. But what makes you wish to know about this old original? What on earth do you want with him." "Does he walk there every forenoon?" asked Hans. " Every forenoon, from eleven to one, and every afternoon, from five to seven. But what inter- est?" " Has he many children ?" interrupted Hans. " Only one daughter ; but what the deuce ?" THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 177 " Good - bye, uncle !" I must get home to my books." " Stop a bit ! Aren't you going to Aunt Maren's this evening ? She asked me to invite you." "No, thanks, I haven't time," shouted Cousin Hans, who was already several paces away. " There's to be a ladies' party young ladies !" bawled Uncle Frederick ; for he did not know what had come over his nephew. But Hans shook his head with a peculiar ener- getic contempt, and disappeared round the cor- ner. " The deuce is in it," thought Uncle Frederick, " the boy is crazy, or oh, I have it ! he's in love ! He was standing here, babbling about love, when I found him outside No. 34. And then his interest in old Schrappe ! Can he be in love with Miss Betty ? Oh, no," thought Uncle Frederick, shaking his head, as he, too, continued on his way, " I don't believe he has sense enough for that." II. Cousin Hans did not eat much dinner that day. People in love never eat much, and, besides, he did not care for rissoles. At last five o'clock struck. He had already taken up his position on the ramparts, whence he could survey the whole esplanade. Quite right: 12 178 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. there came the black frock-coat, the light trousers, and the well-brushed hat. 'Cousin Hans felt his heart palpitate a little. At first he attributed this to a sense of shame in thus craftily setting a trap for the good old captain. But he soon discovered that it was the sight of the beloved one's father that set his blood in a ferment. Thus reassured, he began, in accordance with Un- cle Frederick's advice, to draw strokes and angles in the sand, attentively fixing his eyes, from time to time, upon the Castle of Akerhuus. The whole esplanade was quiet and deserted. Cousin Hans could hear the captain's firm steps approaching; they came right up to him and stopped. Hans did not look up; the captain advanced two more paces and coughed. Hans drew a long and profoundly significant stroke with his stick, and then the old fellow could contain himself no longer. " Aha, young gentleman," he said, in a friendly tone, taking off his hat, " are you making a plan of our fortifications ?" Cousin Hans assumed the look of one who is awakened from deep contemplation, and, bowing politely, he answered with some embarrassment : " No, it's only a sort of habit I have of trying to take my bearings wherever I may be." " An excellent habit, a most excellent habit," the captain exclaimed with warmth. " It strengthens the memory," Cousin Hans re- marked, modestly. THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 179 " Certainly, certainly, sir !" answered the captain, who was beginning to be much pleased by this modest young man. " Especially in situations of any complexity," con- tinued the modest young man, rubbing out his strokes with his foot. " Just what I was going to say !" exclaimed the captain, delighted. " And, as you may well believe, drawings and plans are especially indispensable in military science. Look at a battle-field, for example. " "Ah, battles are altogether too intricate for me," Cousin Hans interrupted, with a smile of humility. "Don't say that, sir!" answered the kindly old man. " When once you have a bird's-eye view of the ground and of the positions of the armies, even a tolerably complicated battle can be made quite comprehensible. This sand, now, that we have be- fore us here, could very well be made to give us an idea, in miniature, of, for example, the battle of Waterloo." " I have come in for the long one," thought Cous- in Hans, " but never mind !* I love her." " Be so good as to take a seat on the bench here," continued the captain, whose heart was rejoiced at the thought of so intelligent a hearer, "and I shall try to give you in short outline a picture of that mo- mentous and remarkable battle if it interests you ?" "Many thanks, sir," answered Cousin Hans, * In English in the original. l8o TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. " nothing could interest me more. But I'm afraid you'll find it terribly hard work to make it clear to a poor, ignorant civilian." " By no means ; the whole thing is quite simple and easy, if only you are first familiar with the lay of the land," the amiable old gentleman assured him, as he took his seat at Hans's side, and cast an inquiring glance around. While they were thus seated, Cousin Hans ex- amined the captain more closely, and he could not but admit that in spite of his sixty years, Captain Schrappe was still a handsome man. He wore his short, iron-gray mustaches a little turned up at the ends, which gave him a certain air of youthfulness. On the whole, he bore a strong resemblance to King Oscar the First on the old sixpenny-pieces. And as the captain rose and began his disserta- tion, Cousin Hans decided in his own mind that he had every reason to be satisfied with his future father-in-law's exterior. The captain took up a position in a corner of the ramparts, a few paces from the bench, whence he could point ali around him with a stick. Cousin Hans followed what he said, closely, and took all possible trouble to ingratiate himself with his future father-in-law. " We will suppose, then, that I am standing here at the farm of Belle-Alliance, where the Emperor has his headquarters ; and to the north fourteen miles from Waterloo we have Brussels, that is to THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. l8l say, just about at the corner of the gymnastic- school. " The road there along the rampart is the high- way leading to Brussels, and here," the captain rushed over the plain of Waterloo, "here in the grass we have the Forest of Soignies. On the highway to Brussels, and in front of the forest, the English are stationed you must imagine the north- ern part of the battle-field somewhat higher than it is here. On Wellington's left wing, that is to say, to the eastward here in the grass we have the Chateau of Hougoumont; that must be marked," said the captain, looking about him. The serviceable Cousin Hans at once found a stick, which was fixed in the ground at this impor- tant point. " Excellent 1" cried the captain, who saw that he had found an interested and imaginative listener. "You see it's from this side that we have to ex- pect the Prussians." Cousin Hans noticed that the captain picked up a stone and placed it in the grass with an air of mystery. "Here at Hougoumont," the old man contin- ued, " the battle began. It was Jerome who made the first attack. He took the wood ; but the cha- teau held out, garrisoned by Wellington's best troops. " In the mean time Napoleon, here at Belle- Alli- ance, was on the point of giving Marshal Ney or- 1 82 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. ders to commence the main attack upon Welling, ton's centre, when he observed a column of troops approaching from the east, behind the bench, over there by tree." Cousin Hans looked round, and began to feel uneasy : could Bliicher be here already ? " Blu Blu " he murmured, tentatively, " It was Billow," the captain fortunately went on, " who approached with thirty thousand Prus- sians. Napoleon made his arrangements hastily to meet this new enemy, never doubting that Grouchy, at any rate, was following close on the Prussians' heels. , " You see, the Emperor had on the previous day detached Marshal Grouchy with the whole right wing of the army, about fifty thousand men, to hold Bliicher and Biilow in check. But Grouchy but of course all this is familiar to you " the captain broke off. Cousin Hans nodded reassuringly. " Ney, accordingly, began the attack with his usual intrepidity. But the English cavalry hurled themselves upon the Frenchmen, broke their ranks, and forced them back with the loss of two eagles and several cannons. Milhaud rushes to the rescue with his cuirassiers, and the Emperor himself, see- ing the danger, puts spurs to his horse and gallops down the incline of Belle-Alliance." Away rushed the captain, prancing like a horse, in his eagerness to show how the Emperor rode THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 183 through thick and thin, rallied Ney's troops, and sent them forward to a fresh attack. Whether it was that there lurked a bit of the poet in Cousin Hans, or that the captain's repre- sentation was really very vivid, or that and this is probably the true explanation he was in love with the captain's daughter, certain it is that Cousin Hans was quite carried away by the situation. He no longer saw a queer old captain prancing sideways ; he saw, through the cloud of smoke, the Emperor himself on his white horse with the black eyes, as we know it from the engravings. He tore away over hedge and ditch, over meadow and gar- den, his staff with difficulty keeping up with him. Cool and calm, he sat firmly in his saddle, with his half- unbuttoned gray coat, his white breeches, and his little hat, crosswise on his head. His face ex- pressed neither weariness nor anxiety ; smooth and pale as marble, it gave to the whole figure in the simple uniform on the white horse an exalted, al- most a spectral, aspect. Thus he swept on his course, this sanguinary little monster, who in three days had fought three battles. All hastened to clear the way for him, flying peasants, troops in reserve or advancing aye, even the wounded and dying dragged them- selves aside, and looked up at him with a mixture of terror and admiration, as he tore past them like a cold thunderbolt Scarcely had he shown himself among the sot 184 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. diers before they all fell into order as though by magic, and a moment afterwards the undaunted Ney could once more vault into the saddle to re- new the attack. And this time he bore down the English and established himself in the farm-house of La Haie-Sainte. Napoleon is once more at Belle-Alliance. "And now here comes Billow from the east under the bench here, you see and the Emperor sends General Mouton to meet him. At half-past four (the battle had begun at one o'clock) Wellington attempts to drive Ney out of La Haie-Sainte. But Ney, who now saw that everything depended on obtaining possession of the ground in front of the wood the sand here by the border of the grass," the captain threw his glove over to the spot indi- cated, " Ney, you see, calls up the reserve brigade of Milhaud's cuirassiers and hurls himself at the enemy. " Presently his men were seen upon the heights, and already the people around the Emperor were shouting ' Victoire !' " ' It is an hour too late,' answered Napoleon. " As he now saw that the Marshal in his new po- sition was suffering much from the enemy's fire, he determined to go to his assistance, and, at the same time, to try to crush Wellington at one blow. He chose for the execution of this plan, Keller- mann's famous dragoons and the heavy cavalry of the guard. Now comes one of the crucial moments THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 185 of the fight; you must come out here upon the battle-field !" Cousin Hans at once rose from the bench and took the position the captain pointed out to him. " Now you are Wellington !" Cousin Hans drew himself up. " You are standing there on the plain with the greater part of the English infantry. Here comes the whole of the French cavalry rushing down upon you. Milhaud has joined Kellermann ; they form an illimitable multitude of horses, breast- plates, plumes and shining weapons. Surround yourself with a square !" Cousin Hans stood for a moment bewildered; but presently he understood the captain's meaning. He hastily drew a square of deep strokes around him in the sand. " Right !" cried the captain, beaming, " Now the Frenchmen cut into the square ; the ranks break, but join again, the cavalry wheels away and gathers for a fresh attack. Wellington has at every mo- ment to surround himself with a new square. " The French cavalry fight like lions : the proud memories of the Emperor's campaigns fill them with that confidence of victory which made his armies invincible. They fight for victory, for glory, for the French eagles, and for the little cold man who, they know, stands on the height behind them ; whose eye follows every single man, who sees all, and forgets nothing. " But to-day they have an enemy who is not easy 1 86 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. to deal with. They stand where they stand, these Englishmen, and if they are forced a step back- wards, they regain their position the next moment. They have no eagles and no Emperor ; when they fight they think neither of military glory nor of re- venge ; but they think of home. The thought of never seeing again the oak-trees of Old England is the most melancholy an Englishman knows. Ah, no, there is one which is still worse : that of com- ing home dishonored. And when they think that the proud fleet, which they know is lying to the northward waiting for them, would deny them the honor of a salute, and that Old England would not recognize her sons then they grip their muskets tighter, they forget their wounds and their flowing blood ; silent and grim, they clinch their teeth, and hold their post, and die like men." Twenty times were the squares broken and re- formed, and twelve thousand brave Englishmen fell. Cousin Hans could understand how Wellington wept, when he said, " Night or Bliicher !" The captain had in the mean time left Belle- Alli- ance, and was spying around in the grass behind the bench, while he continued his exposition which grew more and more vivid: "Wellington was now in reali- ty beaten and a total defeat was inevitable," cried the captain, in a sombre voice, " when this fellow ap- peared on the scene !" And as he said this, he kick- ed the stone which Cousin Hans had seen him con- cealing, so that it rolled in upon the field of battle. THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 187 " Now or never," thought Cousin Hans. " Blxicher !" he cried. " Exactly !" answered the captain, " it's the old werewolf Bliicher, who comes marching upon the field with his Prussians." So Grouchy never came ; there was Napoleon, deprived of his whole right wing, and facing 150,000 men. But with never-failing coolness he gives his orders for a great change of front. But it was too late, and the odds were too vast. Wellington, who, by Bliicher's arrival, was en- abled to bring his reserve into play, now ordered his whole army to advance. And yet once more the Allies were forced to pause for a moment by a furious charge led by Ney the lion of the day. " Do you see him there !" cried the captain, his eyes flashing. And Cousin Hans saw him, the romantic hero, Duke of Elchingen, Prince of Moskwa, son of a cooper in Saarlouis, Marshal and Peer of France. He saw him rush onward at the head of his battal- ions five horses had been shot under him with his sword in his hand, his uniform torn to shreds, hatless, and with the blood streaming down his face. And the battalions rallied and swept ahead; they followed their Prince of Moskwa, their sa- vior at the Beresina, into the hopeless struggle for the Emperor and for France. Little did they dream that, six months later, the King of France 1 88 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. would have their dear prince shot as a traitor to his country in the gardens of the Luxembourg. There he rushed around, rallying and directing his troops, until there was nothing more for the general to do ; then he plied his sword like a com- mon soldier until all was over, and he was carried away in the rout. For the French army fled. The Emperor threw himself into the throng ; but the terrible hubbub drowned his voice, and in the twilight no one knew the little man on the white horse. Then he took his stand in a little square of his Old Guard, which still held out upon the plain ; he would fain have ended his life on his last battle- field. But his generals flocked around him, and the old grenadiers shouted : " Withdraw, Sire ! Death will not have you." They did not know that it was because the Em- peror had forfeited his right to die as a French sol- dier. They led him half-resisting from the field; and, unknown in his own army, he rode away into the darkness of the night, having lost everything. " So ended the battle of Waterloo," said the cap- tain, as he seated himself on the bench and ar- ranged his neck-cloth. Cousin Hans thought with indignation of Un- cle Frederick, who had spoken of Captain Schrappe in such a tone of superiority. He was, at least, a far more interesting personage than an old official mill-horse like Uncle Frederick. THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 189 Hans now went about and gathered up the gloves and other small objects which the generals, in the heat of the fight, had scattered over the battle-field to mark the positions ; and, as he did so, he stum- bled upon old Blucher. He picked him up and examined him carefully. He was a hard lump of granite, knubbly as sugar- candy, which almost seemed to bear a personal re- semblance to " Feldtmarschall Vorwarts." Hans turned to the captain with a polite bow. " Will you allow me, captain, to keep this stone. It will be the best possible memento of this inter- esting and instructive conversation, for which I am really most grateful to you." And thereupon he put Bliicher into his coat-tail pocket. The captain assured him that it had been a real pleasure to him to observe the interest with which his young friend had followed the exposition. And this was nothing but the truth, for he was posi- tively enraptured with Cousin Hans. " Come and sit down now, young man. We de- serve a little rest after a ten-hours' battle," he added, smiling. Cousin Hans seated himself on the bench and felt his collar with some anxiety. Before coming out, he had put on the most fascinating one his wardrobe afforded. Fortunately, it had retained its stiffness ; but he felt the force of Wellington's words: " Night or Blucher" for it would not have held out much longer. 1 90 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. It was fortunate, too, that the warm afternoon sun had kept strollers away from the esplanade. Otherwise a considerable audience would probably have gathered around these two gentlemen, who went on gesticulating with their arms, and now and then prancing around. They had had only one on-looker the sentry who stands at the corner of the gymnastic-school. His curiosity had enticed him much too far from his post, for he had marched several leagues along the highway from Brussels to Waterloo. The cap- tain would certainly have called him to order long ago for this dereliction of duty but for the fact that the inquisitive private had been of great strategic importance. He represented, as he stood there, the whole of Wellington's reserve ; and now that the battle was over the reserve retired in good or- der northward towards Brussels, and again took up le paste perdu at the corner of the gymnastic-school. III. " Suppose you come home and have some sup- per with me," said the captain ; " my house is very quiet, but I think perhaps a young man of your character may have no great objection to passing an evening in a quiet family." Cousin Hans's heart leaped high with joy, he THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 191 accepted the invitation in the modest manner pe- culiar to him, and they were soon on the way to No. 34. How curiously fortune favored him to-day ! Not many hours had passed since he saw her for the first time ; and now, in the character of a special favorite of her father, he was hastening to pass the evening in her company. The nearer they approached to No. 34, in the more life-like colors did the enchanting vision of Miss Schrappe stand before his eyes ; the blonde hair curling over the forehead, the lithe figure, and then these roguish, light-blue eyes ! His heart beat so that he could scarcely speak, and as they mounted the stair he had to take firm hold of the railing ; his happiness made him almost dizzy. In the parlor, a large corner-room, they found no one. The captain went out to summon his daugh- ter, and Hans heard him calling, " Betty !" Betty ! What a lovely name, and how well it suited that lovely being ! The happy lover was already thinking how de- lightful it would be when he came home from his work at dinner-time, and could call out into the' kitchen : " Betty ! is dinner ready ?" At this moment the captain entered the room again with his daughter. She came straight up to Cousin Hans, took his hand, and bade him welcome. But she added, " You must really excuse me de- 192 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. setting you again at once, for I am in the middle of a dish of buttered eggs, and that's no joke, I can tell you." Thereupon she disappeared again; the captain also withdrew to prepare for the meal, and Cousin Hans was once more alone. The whole meeting had not lasted many seconds, and yet it seemed to Cousin Hans that in these moments he had toppled from ledge to ledge, many fathoms down, into a deep, black pit. He supported himself with both hands against an old, high-backed easy-chair ; he neither heard, saw, nor thought ; but half mechanically he repeated to himself : " It was not she it was not she !" No, it was not she. The lady whom he had just seen, and who must consequently be Miss Schrappe, had not a trace of blonde hair curling over her brow. On the contrary, she had dark hair, smoothed down to both sides Her eyes were not in the least ro- guish or light blue, but serious and dark-gray in short, she was as unlike the charmer as possible. After his first paralysis, Cousin Hans's blood be- gan to boil ; a violent anguish seized him : he raged against the captain, against Miss Schrappe, against Uncle Frederick and Wellington, and the whole world. He would smash the big mirror and all the furni- ture, and then jump out of the corner window ; or he would take his hat and stick, rush down-stairs, leave the house, and never more set foot in it ; or THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 193 he would at least remain no longer than was abso- lutely necessary. Little by little he became calmer, but a deep mel- ancholy descended upon him. He had felt the un- speakable agony of disappointment in his first love, and when his eye fell on his own image in the mir- ror, he shook his head compassionately. The captain now returned, well-brushed and spick and span. He opened a conversation about the politics of the day. , It was with difficulty that Cous- in Hans could even give short and commonplace answers ; it seemed as though all that had interest- ed him in Captain Schrappe had entirely evapora- ted. And now Hans remembered that on the way home from the esplanade he had promised to give him the whole sham fight in Sweden after sup- per. " Will you come, please ; supper is ready," said Miss Betty, opening the door into the dining-room, which was lighted with candles. Cousin Hans could not help eating, for he was hungry ; but he looked down at his plate and spoke little. Thus the conversation was at first confined for the most part to the father and daughter. The captain, who thought that this bashful young man was embarrassed by Miss Betty's presence, wanted to give him time to collect himself. " How is it you haven't invited Miss Beck this evening, since she's leaving town to-morrow," said 194 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. the old man. " You two could have entertained our guest with some duets." " I asked her to stay, when she was here this afternoon ; but she was engaged to a farewell party with some other people she knows." Cousin Hans pricked up his ears ; could this be the lady of the morning that they were speaking about ? "I told you she came down to the esplanade to say good-bye to me," continued the captain. " Poor girl ! I'm really sorry for her." There could no longer be any doubt. " I beg your pardon are you speaking of a lady with curly hair and large blue eyes ?" asked Cousin Hans. " Exactly," answered the captain, " do you know Miss Beck ?" " No," answered Hans, " it only occurred to me that it might be a lady I met down on the esplanade about twelve o'clock." "No doubt it was she" said the captain. "A pretty girl, isn't she ?" " I thought her beautiful," answered Hans, with conviction. " Has she had any trouble ? I thought I heard you say" " Well, yes ; you see she was engaged for some months" " Nine weeks," interrupted Miss Betty. " Indeed ! was that all ? At any rate her fianci has just broken off the engagement, and that's why THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 195 she is going away for a little while very naturally to some relations in the west-country, I think." So she had been engaged only for nine weeks, indeed but still, it was a little disappointing. However, Cousin Hans understood human natu-re, and he had seen enough of her that morning to know that her feelings towards her recreant lover could not have been true love. So he said : " If it's the lady I saw to-day, she seemed to take the matter pretty lightly." "That's just what I blame her for," answered Miss Betty. "Why so ?" answered Cousin Hans, a little sharp- ly; for, on the whole, he did not like the way in which the young lady made her remarks. " Would you have had her mope and pine away ?" " No, not at all," answered Miss Schrappe ; " but, in my opinion, it would have shown more strength of character if she had felt more indignant at her fiancfs conduct." " I should say, on the contrary, that it shows most admirable strength of character that she should bear no ill-will and feel no anger; for a woman's strength lies in forgiveness," said Cousin Hans, who grew eloquent in defence of his lady-love. Miss Betty thought that if people in general would show more indignation when an engagement was broken off, as so often happened, perhaps young people would be more cautious in these matters. 196 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. Cousin Hans, on the other hand, was of opinion that when a fianci discovered, or even suspected, that he had made a mistake, and that what he had taken for love was not the real, true, and genuine article, he was not only bound to break off the engagement with all possible speed, but it was the positive duty of the other party, and of all friends and acquaintances, to excuse and forgive him, and to say as little as possible about the matter, in order that it might the sooner be forgotten. Miss Betty answered hastily that she did not think it at all the right thing that young people should enter into experimental engagements while they keep a look out for true love. This remark greatly irritated Cousin Hans, but he had no time to reply, for at that moment the captain rose from the table. There was something about Miss Schrappe that he really could not endure ; and he was so much absorbed in this thought that, for a time, he almost forgot the melancholy intelligence that the beloved one Miss Beck was leaving town to-morrow He could not but admit that the captain's daugh- ter was pretty, very pretty ; she seemed to be both domestic and sensible, and it was clear that she devoted herself to her old father with touching ten- derness. And yet Cousin Hans said to himself: " Poor thing, who would want to marry her ?" For she was entirely devoid of that charming helplessness which is so attractive in a young girl ; THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 197 when she spoke, it was with an almost odious re- pose and decision. She never came in with any of those fascinating half -finished sentences, such as "Oh, I don't know if you understand me there are so few people that understand me I don't know how to express what I mean ; but I feel it so strongly." In short, there was about Miss Schrappe nothing of that vagueness and mystery which is woman's most exquisite charm. Furthermore, he had a suspicion that she was " learned." And every one, surely, must agree with Cousin Hans that if a woman is to fulfil her mis- sion in this life (that is to say, to be a man's wife) she ought clearly to have no other acquirements than those her husband wishes her to have, or him- self confers upon her. Any other fund of knowl- edge must always be a dowry of exceedingly doubt- ful value. Cousin Hans was in the most miserable of moods. It was only eight o'clock, and he did not think it would do to take his departure before half-past nine. The captain had already settled himself at the ta- ble, prepared to begin the sham-fight. There was no chance of escape, and Hans took a seat at his side. Opposite to him sat Miss Betty, with her sewing, and with a book in front of her. He leaned for- ward and discovered that it was a German novel of the modern school. It was precisely one of those works which Hans was wont to praise loudly when he developed his 198 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. advanced views, colored with a little dash of free- thought. But to find this book here, in a lady's hands, and, what was more, in German (Hans had read it in a translation), was in the last degree un- pl easing to him. Accordingly, when Miss Betty asked if he liked the novel, he answered that it was one of the books which should only be read by men of ripened judg- ment and established principles, and that it was not at all suited for ladies. He saw that the girl flushed, and he felt that he had been rude. But he was really feeling desper- ate, and, besides, there was something positively irritating in this superior little person. He was intensely worried and bored ; and, to fulfil the measure of his suffering, the captain began to make Battalion B advance " under cover of the night." Cousin Hans now watched the captain moving match-boxes, penknives, and other small objects about the table. He nodded now and then, but he did not pay the slightest attention. He thought of the lovely Miss Beck, whom he was, perhaps, never to see again ; and now and then he stole a glance at Miss Schrappe, to whom he had been so rude. He gave a sudden start as the captain slapped him on the shoulder, with the words, " And it was this point that I was to occupy. What do you think of that ?" THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 199 Uncle Frederick's words flashed across Cousin Hans's mind, and, nodding vehemently, he said : " Of course, the only thing to be done the key to the position ?" The captain started back and became quite seri- ous. But when he saw Cousin Hans's disconcerted expression, his good-nature got the upperhand, and he laughed and said : " No, my dear sir ! there you're quite mistaken. However," he added, with a quiet smile, " it's a mistake which you share with several of our high- est military authorities. No, now let me show you the key to the position." And then he began to demonstrate at large that the point which he had been ordered to occupy was quite without strategical importance ; while, on the other hand, the movement which he made on his own responsibility placed the enemy in the direst embarrassment, and would have delayed the advance of Corps B by several hours. Tired and dazed as Cousin Hans was, he could not help admiring the judicious course adopted by the military authorities towards Captain Schrappe, if, indeed, there was anything in Uncle Frederick's story about the Order of the Sword. For if the captain's original manoeuvre was, stra- tegically speaking, a stroke of genius, it was un- doubtedly right that he should receive a decora- tion. But, on the other hand, it was no less clear that the man who could suppose that in a sham- 200 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. fight it was in the least desirable to delay or embar- ass any one was quite out of place in an army like ours. He ought to have known that the true ob- ject of the manoeuvres was to let the opposing armies, with their baggage and commissariat wag- ons, meet at a given time and in a given place, there to have a general picnic. While Hans was buried in these thoughts, the cap- tain finished the sham-fight. He was by no means so pleased with his listener as he had been upon the esplanade ; he seemed, somehow, to have be- come absent-minded. It was now nine o'clock ; but, as Cousin Hans had made up his mind that he would hold out till half-past nine, he dragged through one of the long- est half-hours that had ever come within his expe- rience. The captain grew sleepy, Miss Betty gave short and dry answers ; Hans had himself to pro- vide the conversation weary, out of temper, un- happy and love-sick as he was. At last the clock was close upon half-past nine ; he rose, explaining that he was accustomed to go early to bed, because he could read best when he got up at six o'clock. " Well, well," said the captain, " do you call this going early to bed ? I assure you I always turn in at nine o'clock." Vexation on vexation ! Hans said good - night hastily, and rushed down-stairs. The captain accompanied him to the landing, THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 2OI candle in hand, and called after him cordially, "Good-night happy to see you again." " Thanks !" shouted Hans from below ; but he vowed in his inmost soul that he would never set foot in that house again. When the old man returned to the parlor, he found his daughter busy opening the windows. "What are you doing that for ?" asked the captain. " I'm airing the room after him," answered Miss Betty. " Come, come, Betty, you are really too hard upon him. But I must admit that the young gentleman did not improve upon closer acquaintance. I don't understand young people nowadays." Thereupon the captain retired to his bedroom, after giving his daughter the usual evening exhor- tation, " Now don't sit up too long." When she was left alone, Miss Betty put out the lamp, moved the flowers away from the corner win- dow, and seated herself on the window-sill with her feet upon a chair. On clear moonlight evenings she could descry a little strip of the fiord between two high houses. It was not much ; but it was a glimpse of the great highway that leads to the south, and to foreign lands. And her desires and longings flew away, following the same course which has wearied the wings of so many a longing down the narrow fiord to the south, where the horizon is wide, where the heart expands, and the thoughts grow great and daring. 202 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. And Miss Betty sighed as she gazed at the little strip of the fiord which she could see between the two high houses. She gave no thought, as she sat there, to Cousin Hans ; but he thought of Miss Schrappe as he passed with hasty steps up the street. Never had he met a young lady who was less to his taste. The fact that he had been rude to her did not make him like her better. We are not im- clined to find those people amiable who have been the occasion of misbehavior on our own part. It was a sort of comfort to him to repeat to himself, " Who would want to marry her ?" Then his thoughts wandered to the charmer who was to leave town to-morrow. He realized his fate in all its bitterness, and he felt a great longing to pour forth the sorrow of his soul to a friend who could understand him. But it was not easy to find a sympathetic friend at that time of night. After all, Uncle Frederick was his confidant in many matters ; he would look him up. As he knew that Uncle Frederick was at Aunt Maren's, he betook himself towards the Palace in order to meet him on his way back from Homan's Town. He chose one of the narrow avenues on the right, which he knew to be his uncle's favorite route ; and a little way up the hill he seated himself on a bench to wait. It must be unusually lively at Aunt Maren's to THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 203 make Uncle Frederick stop there until after ten. At last he seemed to discern a small white object far up the avenue ; it was Uncle Frederick's white waistcoat approaching. Hans rose from the bench and said very seriously, " Good-evening !" Uncle Frederick was not at all fond of meeting solitary men in dark avenues ; so it was a great re- lief to him to recognize his nephew. "Oh, is it only you, Hans old fellow?" he said, cordially. "What are you lying in ambush here for ?" " I was waiting for you," answered Hans, in a sombre tone of voice. " Indeed ? Is there anything wrong with you ? Are you ill ?" " Don't ask me," answered Cousin Hans. This would at any other time have been enough to call forth a hail- storm of questions from Uncle Frederick. But this evening he was so much taken up with his own experiences that for the moment he put his nephew's affairs aside. " I can tell you, you were very foolish," he said, " not to go with me to Aunt Maren's. We have had such a jolly evening, I'm sure you would have en- joyed it. The fact is, it was a sort of farewell party in honor of a young lady who's leaving town to-morrow." A horrible foreboding seized Cousin Hans. 204 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. " What was her name ?" he shrieked, gripping his uncle by the arm. " Ow !" cried his uncle, " Miss Beck." . Then Hans collapsed upon the bench. But scarcely had he sunk down before he sprang up again, with a loud cry, and drew out of his coat- tail pocket a knubbly little object, which he hurled away far down the avenue. " What's the matter with the boy ?" cried Uncle Frederick, " What was that you threw away ?" "Oh, it was that confounded Bliicher," answered Cousin Hans, almost in tears. Uncle Frederick scarcely found time to say, " Didn't I tell you to beware of Bliicher ?" when he burst into an alarming fit of laughter, which last- ed from the Palace Hill far along Upper Fort Street. THE END. JUN 27 1979 University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. PRINTED IN U S A UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILI1 A 000 828 820 1