The Lost Manuscript: A Novel. Gustav Freytag
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deceitful Goddess of Hope paints all favorable chances in bright colors, the very work of searching raises all possible doubts. The alluring picture fades, despondency and weariness cast their shadows across it; and what in the beginning was a happy venture becomes at last a mere effort of perseverance.
CHAPTER IV.
THE OLD HOUSE
The Proprietor re-entered with his whip in his hand and behind him the stately maiden of the churchyard. "This is my daughter Ilse; she will represent me."
The friends bowed. It was the same beautiful countenance; but instead of exalted emotion, there now rested on her features a business-like dignity. She greeted the gentlemen calmly, and invited them to breakfast in the next room. She expressed herself simply, but again the friends listened with admiration to the deep tones of her melodious voice.
"Before you begin your search you must sit down at my table; it is our custom," said the host, in better humor-on him also the presence of the daughter had a softening influence, "We meet again at noon." So saying, he departed.
The friends followed into the next room-a large dining-apartment. There were chairs along the wall; in the middle a long table, at the upper end of which three covers were laid. The young girl seated herself between the gentlemen and offered them a cold repast. "When I saw you in the churchyard, I thought that you would visit my father; the table has been set for you for some time." The friends ate a little, and thanked her still more.
"I regret that our coming should make such a demand on your time," said the Professor, gravely.
"My task is easy," answered the young girl. "I fear that yours will give you more trouble. There are many sitting-rooms in the house as well as bedrooms and attics."
"I have already told your father," answered the Professor, laughing, "that it is not our intention to examine the building like masons. Pray look upon us as curious people who only wish to see this remarkable house, in so far as it would otherwise be opened to guests."
"The house may be considered remarkable by strangers," said Ilse; "we like it because it is warm and roomy; and when my father had been some years in possession of the estate, and had the means to do so, he had the house comfortably arranged to please my deceased mother. We require plenty of room, as I have six younger brothers and sisters, and it is a large estate. The overseers of the farm eat with us; then there are the tutor and Mamselle, and in the servants' hall there are also twenty people."
The Doctor regarded his neighbor with a look of disappointment. What had become of the Sibyl? She spoke sensibly and very much like a citizen; with her something might be accomplished.
"A$ we are searching for hollow spaces," he began slyly, "we would rather trust to your guidance, if you would tell us whether there are any places in the wall, or on the ground, or anywhere here in the house, that you know of, which could be discovered by knocking?"
"O, there are plenty of such places!" answered Ilse. "If one knocks upon the wall at the back of the small cupboard in my room, it is evident there is an empty space behind; then there is the flagstone under the stairs, and many flags in the kitchen, and still more in other parts of the house, regarding which every one has his conjectures."
The Doctor had taken out his memorandum-book and noted the suspicious places.
The inspection of the house began. It was a fine old building; the walls of the lower story were so thick that the Doctor with extended arms could not span the depths of the window-niches. He eagerly undertook the sounding, and began measuring the walls. The cellars were partly hewn in the rock. In some places the rough stone still projected, and one could perceive where the wall rested on the rock. There were vast vaults, the small windows in the top of which were protected by strong iron bars, – in ancient times a secure refuge against the shot and assault of the enemy. All was dry and hollow, for the house was built, as the Doctor had already before so acutely suggested in speaking of old buildings, with outer and inner walls, and filled between with rubbish and broken stones. Naturally, therefore, the walls in many places sounded as hollow as a gourd. The Doctor knocked, and diligently took note. The knuckles of his hand became white and swelled, and the number of good places discouraged him.
From the cellar they went to the ground-floor. In the kitchen, kettles and pots were steaming, and the women who were working looked with curiosity at the demeanor of the strangers, for the Doctor kept stamping with his heel on the stone floor, and with his hands sounded the blackened side-wall of the hearth. Behind were store-rooms and the visitors' rooms. In one of these they found a woman in mourning, occupied in arranging the beds. It was the mother from the churchyard. She approached the strangers, and thanked them for having helped to pay the last honors to her child. The friends spoke kindly to her; she wiped her eyes with her apron and returned to her work.
"I begged her to remain at home to-day," said Ilse, "but she would not. It would, she thought, be good for her to have something to do, and we would need her help as you were coming to us."
It pleased our scholars to see that by the female members of the house, at least, they were considered as guests entitled to remain.
They went over the other side of the ground-floor, and once more examined the unpretentious room in which they had been first received. Behind it lay the private room of the proprietor, a small unadorned chamber, in which were a closet with shooting and riding gear, and a shelf for title-deeds and books; over the bed hung a sword and pistols, and on the writing-table there was a small model of a machine, and samples of corn and seeds in small bags; against the wall stood, in military array, gigantic water-boots, Russian leather boots, and top-boots for riding; and in the further corner half-boots of calf skin. In the next room they heard a man's voice, and the answers of children in regular succession.
"That is the school-room," said Ilse, smiling. As the door opened, both solo and chorus stopped. The teacher, a student with an intelligent face, rose to return the greeting of the newcomers. The children stared with astonishment at the unexpected interruption. Three boys and three girls sat at two tables, a vigorous, fair-haired race. "These are Clara, Luise, Rickchen, Hans, Ernest, and Franz."
Clara, a girl of fourteen, almost grown up, and a youthful picture of her sister, rose with a courtesy. Hans, a sturdy boy, twelve years old, made an ineffectual attempt at a bow. The others remained standing straight, staring fixedly at the strangers, and then, as if having sufficiently performed a tiresome duty, dropped down into their places. Only little Franz, a rosy-cheeked, curly-headed urchin, seven years old, remained sitting grimly over his troublesome task, and made use of the interruption quickly to find in his book something for his next answer. Ilse stroked his hair, and asked the tutor, "How is he doing to-day?"
"He has studied his lesson."
"It is too hard," cried Franz, bitterly.
The Professor begged the tutor not to disturb himself, and the journey recommenced through the bedroom of the boys, and of the tutor, and again through the store-rooms, the ironing and wardrobe rooms. The Doctor had long since put his memorandum-book in his pocket.
They returned to the main hall, where Ilse pointed out the stone slab on the step. Once more the Doctor knelt down, tried it, and said despondingly, "Hollow again." Ilse ascended the staircase.
"Up here the girls and I live."
"Here, then, our curiosity comes to an end," replied the Professor, considerately; "you see even my friend abandons the search."
"But there is a fine view above; this, at least, you must see," said their guide. She opened a door. "This is my room." The friends stood on the threshold. "Come in," said Ilse, unembarrassed. "From this window you see the road by which you came to us."
With hesitation the men approached. This also was an unpretentious room; there was not even a sofa in it. The walls were painted blue; at the window was a work-table and some flowers; in a corner was the bed concealed by white curtains.
The friends walked immediately to the window, and looking out saw the little churchyard and the tops of the oaks, the small town in the valley, and the rows of trees behind, which ran in curved lines up the height where the view terminated. The Professor fixed his eyes on the old wooden church. How much in a few hours