CHAPTER I
IN NOLLA
For nearly twenty years the fine old castle had stood silent and desertedon the mountain-side. In its neighborhood not a sound could be heardexcept the twittering of the birds and the soughing of the oldpine-trees. On bright summer evenings the swallows whizzed as beforeabout the corner gables, but no more merry eyes looked down from thebalconies to the green meadows and richly laden apple trees in thevalley.
But just now two merry eyes were searchingly raised to the castle fromthe meadow below, as if they might discover something extraordinarybehind the fast-closed shutters.
"Mea, come quick," the young spy exclaimed excitedly, "look! Now it'sopening." Mea, who was sitting on the bench under the large apple tree,with a book, put aside the volume and came running.
"Look, look! Now it's moving," her brother continued with growingsuspense. "It's the arm of a black coat; wait, soon the whole shutterwill be opened."
At this moment a black object lifted itself and soared up to the tower.
"It was only a bird, a large black-bird," said the disappointed Mea."You have called me at least twenty times already; every time you thinkthat the shutters will open, and they never do. You can call as often asyou please from now on, I shall certainly not come again."
"I know they will open some day," the boy asserted firmly, "only we can'ttell just when; but it might be any time. If only stiff old Trius wouldanswer the questions we ask him! He knows everything that is going on upthere. But the old crosspatch never says a word when one comes near himto talk; all he does is to come along with his big stick. He naturallydoesn't want anybody to know what is happening up there, but everybody inschool knows that a ghost wanders about and sighs through the pinetrees."
"Mother has said more than once that nothing is going on there at all.She doesn't want you to talk about the ghost with the school-children,and she has asked you not to try to find out what they know about it.You know, too, that mother wants you to call the castle watchman Mr.Trius and not just Trius."
"Oh, yes, I'll call him Mr. Trius, but I'll make up such a song abouthim that everybody will know who it is about," Kurt said threateningly.
"How can he help it when there is no ghost in Wildenstein about which hecould tell you tales," Mea remarked.
"Oh, he has enough to tell," Kurt eagerly continued. "Many wonderfulthings must have happened in a castle that is a thousand years old. Heknows them all and could tell us, but his only answer to every questionis a beating. You know, Mea, that I do not believe in ghosts or spirits.But it is so exciting to imagine that an old, old Baron of Wallerstaettenmight wander around the battlements in his armor. I love to imagine himstanding under the old pine trees with wild eyes and threateninggestures. I love to think of fighting him, or telling him that I am notafraid."
"Oh, yes, I am sure you would run away if the armoured knight with hiswild eyes should come nearer," said Mea. "It is never hard to be bravewhen one is as far away from danger as you are now."
"Oho! so you think I would be afraid of a ghost," Kurt exclaimedlaughing. "I am sure that the ghost would rather run away from me if Ishouted at him very loudly. I shall make a song about him soon and thenwe'll go up and sing it for him. All my school friends want to go withme; Max, Hans and Clevi, his sister. You must come, too, Mea, and thenyou'll see how the ghost will sneak away as soon as we scream at him andsing awfully loud."
"But, Kurt, how can a ghost, which doesn't exist, sneak away?" Meaexclaimed. "With all your wild ideas about fighting, you seem to reallybelieve that there is a ghost in Wildenstein."
"You must understand, Mea, that this is only to prove that there isnone," Kurt eagerly went on. "A real ghost could rush towards us, madwith rage, if we challenged him that way. You will see what happens. Itwill be a great triumph for me to prove to all the school and the villagepeople that there is no restless ghost who wanders around Wildenstein."
"No, I shan't see it, because I won't come. Mother does not want us tohave anything to do with this story, you know that, Kurt! Oh, here comesElvira! I must speak to her."
With these words Mea suddenly flew down the mountainside. A girl of herown age was slowly coming up the incline. It was hard to tell if thismeasured walk was natural to her or was necessary to preserve thebeautiful red and blue flowers on her little hat, which were not able tostand much commotion. It was clearly evident, however, that theapproaching girl had no intention of changing her pace, despite the factthat she must have noticed long ago the friend who was hurrying towardsher.
"She certainly could move her proud stilts a little quicker when she seeshow Mea is running," Kurt said angrily. "Mea shouldn't do it. Oh, well,I shall make a song about Elvira that she won't ever forget."
Kurt now ran away, too, but in the opposite direction, where he haddiscovered his mother. She was standing before a rose bush from whichshe was cutting faded blossoms and twigs. Kurt was glad to find hismother busy with work which did not occupy her thoughts, as he oftenlonged for such an opportunity without success. Whenever he was eager todiscuss his special problems thoroughly and without being interrupted,his young brother and sister were sure to intrude with their questions,or the two elder children needed her advice at the same moment. So Kurtrushed into the garden to take advantage of this unusual opportunity.But today again he was not destined to have his object fulfilled. Beforehe reached his mother, a woman approached her from the other side, andboth entered immediately into a lively conversation. If it had beensomebody else than his special old friend Mrs. Apollonie, Kurt wouldhave felt very angry indeed. But this woman had gained great distinctionin Kurt's eyes by being well acquainted with the old caretaker of thecastle; so he always had a hope of hearing from her many things that werehappening there.
To his great satisfaction he heard Mrs. Apollonie say on his approach:"No, no, Mrs. Rector, old Trius does not open any windows in vain; hehas not opened any for nearly twenty years."
"He might want to wipe away the dust for once in his life; it's abouttime," Kurt's mother replied. "I don't believe the master has returned."
"Why should the tower windows, where the master always lived, be openedthen? Something unusual has happened," said Mrs. Apolloniesignificantly.
"The ghost of Wildenstein might have pushed them open," Kurt quicklyasserted.
"Kurt, can't you stop talking about this story? It is only an inventionof people who are not contented with one misfortune but must make up anadded terror," the mother said with animation. "You know, Kurt, that Ifeel sorry about this foolish tale and want you to pay no attention toit."
"But mother, I only want to support you; I want to help you get rid ofpeople's superstitions and to prove to them that there is no ghost inWildenstein," Kurt assured her.
"Yes, yes, if only one did not know how the brothers--"
"No, Apollonie," the rector's widow interrupted her, "you least of allshould support the belief in these apparitions. Everybody knows that youlived in the castle more than twenty years, and so people think that youknow what is going on. You realize well enough that all the talk has nofoundation whatever."
Mrs. Apollonie lightly shrugged her shoulders, but said no more.
"But, mother, what can the talk come from then, when there is nofoundation for it, as you say?" asked Kurt, who could not let the matterrest.
"There is no real foundation for the talk," the mother replied, "and noone of all those who talk has ever seen the apparition with his own eyes.It is always other people who tell, and those have been told again byothers, that something uncanny has been seen at the castle. The talkfirst started from a misfortune which happened years ago, and later onthe matter came up and people thought a similar misfortune had takenplace again. Although this was an absolutely false report, all the oldstories were brought up again and the talk became livelier than ever.But people who know better should be very emphatic in suppressing it."
"What was the misfortune that happened long ago in the castle and thenagain?" Kurt asked
in great suspense.
"I have no time to tell you now, Kurt," the mother declared decisively."You have to attend to your school work and I to other affairs. When Ihave you all together quietly some evening I shall tell you about thosebygone times. It will be better for you to know than to muse about allthe reports you hear. You are most active of all in that, Kurt, and I donot like it; so I hope that you will let the matter rest as soon as youhave understood how unfounded the talk really is. Come now, Apollonie,and I will give you the plants you wanted. I am so glad to be able tolet you have some of my geraniums. You keep your little flower garden insuch perfect order that it is a pleasure to see it."
During the foregoing speeches Apollonie's face had clearly expresseddisagreement with what had been said; she had, however, too much respectfor the lady to utter her doubts. Bright sunshine spread itself over herfeatures now, because her flower garden was her greatest pride and joy.
"Yes, yes, Mrs. Rector, it is a beautiful thing to raise flowers," shesaid, nodding her head. "They always do their duty, and if one grows alittle to one side, I can put a stick beside it and it grows straightagain as it ought to. If only the child were like that, then I shouldhave no more cares. But she only has her own ideas in her head, and suchstrange whims that it would be hard to tell where they come from."
"There is nothing bad about having her own ideas," replied the rector'swidow. "It naturally depends on what kind of ideas they are. It seemsto me that Loneli is a good-natured child, who is easily led. Allchildren need guidance. What special whims does Loneli have?"
"Oh, Mrs. Rector, nobody knows what things the child might do,"Apollonie said eagerly. "Yesterday she came home from school withglowing eyes and said to me, 'Grandmother, I should love to go to Spain.Beautiful flowers of all colors grow there and large sparkling grapes,and the sun shines down brightly on the flowers so that they glisten! Iwish I could go right away!' Just think of a ten-year-old child sayingsuch a thing. I wonder what to expect next."
"There is nothing very terrible about that, Apollonie," said the rector'swidow with a smile. "The child might have heard you mention Spainyourself so that it roused her imagination. She probably heard in schoolabout the country, and her wish to go there only shows that she isextremely attentive. To think out how she might get there some time is avery innocent pleasure, which you can indulge. I agree with you thatchildren should be brought up in a strict and orderly way, because theymight otherwise start on the wrong road, and nobody loves such children.But Loneli is not that kind at all. There is no child in Nolla whom Iwould rather see with my own."
Apollonie's honest face glowed anew. "That is my greatest consolation,"she said, "and I need it. Many say to me that an old woman like me isnot able to bring up and manage a little child. If you once were obligedto say to me that I had spoiled my grandchild, I should die of shame.But I know that the matter is still well, as long as you like to see thechild together with yours. Thank you ever so much now. Those will filla whole bed," she continued, upon receiving a large bunch of plants fromher kind friend. "Please let me know if I can help in any way. I amalways at home for you, Mrs. Rector, you know that."
Apollonie now said good-bye with renewed thanks. Carrying her largegreen bundle very carefully in order not to injure the tender littlebranches, she hurried through the garden towards the castle height. Therector's widow glanced after her thoughtfully. Apollonie was intimatelyconnected with the earliest impressions of her childhood, as well as withthe experiences of her youth, with all the people whom she had loved mostand who had stood nearest to her. Her appearance therefore alwaysbrought up many memories in Mrs. Maxa's heart. Since her husband'sdeath, when she had left the rectory in the valley and had come back toher old home, all her friends called her Mrs. Maxa to distinguish herfrom the present rector's wife of the village. She had been used to seeApollonie in her parents' house. Baroness Wallerstaetten, the mistress ofthe castle at that time, had often consulted the rector as to manythings. Apollonie, a young girl then, had always been her messenger, andeveryone liked to see her at the rectory. When it was discovered howquick and able young Apollonie was, things were more and more given intoher charge at the castle. The Baroness hardly undertook anything in herhousehold without consulting Apollonie and asking her assistance. Thechildren, who were growing up, also asked many favors from her, which shewas ever ready to fulfill. The devoted, faithful servant belonged manyyears so entirely to the castle that everyone called her "CastleApollonie."
Mrs. Maxa was suddenly interrupted in her thoughts by loud and repeatedcalls of "Mama, Mama!"
"Mama!" it sounded once more from two clear children's voices, and alittle boy and girl stood before her. "The teacher has read us a paperon which was written--" began the boy.
"Shall I, too; shall I, too?" interrupted the girl.
"Maezli," said the mother, "let Lippo finish; otherwise I can't understandwhat you want."
"Mama, the teacher has read us a paper, on which was written that in Silson the mountain--"
"Shall I, too? Shall I, too?" Maezli, his sister, interrupted again.
"Be quiet, Maezli, till Lippo has finished," the mother commanded.
"He has said the same thing twice already and he is so slow. There hasbeen a fire in Sils on the mountain and we are to send things to thepeople. Shall I do it, too, Mama, shall I, too?" Maezli had told it allin a single breath.
"You didn't say it right," Lippo retorted angrily. "You didn't startfrom the beginning. One must not start in the middle, the teacher toldus that. Now I'll tell you, Mama. The teacher has read us a paper--"
"We know that already, Lippo," the mother remarked. "What was in thepaper?"
"In the paper was written that a big fire in Sils on the mountain hasdestroyed two houses and everything in them. Then the teacher said thatall the pupils of the class--"
"Shall I too, shall I, too?" Maezli urged.
"Finish a little quicker now, Lippo," said the mother.
"Then the teacher said that all the pupils from all the classes mustbring some of their things to give to the poor children--"
"Shall I too, Mama, shall I go right away and get together all theyneed?" Maezli said rapidly, as if the last moment for action had arrived.
"Yes, you can give some of your clothes and Lippo can bring some of his,"the mother said. "I shall help you, for we have plenty of time.To-morrow is Sunday and the children are sure not to bring their thingsto school before Monday, as the teacher will want to send them offhimself."
Lippo agreed and was just beginning to repeat the exact words of theteacher in which he had asked for contributions. But he had no chance todo it.
Kurt came running up at this moment, calling so loudly that nothing elsecould possibly be heard: "Mother, I forgot to give you a message. Brunois not coming home for supper. The Rector is climbing High Ems with himand the two other boys. They will only be home at nine o'clock."
The mother looked a little frightened. "Are the two others his comrades,the Knippel boys?"
Kurt assented.
"I hope everything will go well," she continued. "When those three aretogether outside of school they always quarrel. When we came here firstI was so glad that Bruno would have them for friends, but now I am incontinual fear that they will clash."
"Yes, mother," Kurt asserted, "you would never have been glad of thatfriendship if you had really known them. Wherever they can harm anybodythey are sure to do it, and always behind people's backs. And Brunoalways is like a loaded gun-barrel, just a little spark and he is on fireand explodes."
"It is time to go in," said the mother now, taking the two youngest bythe hand. Kurt followed. It had not escaped him that an expression ofsorrow had spread over his mother's face after his words. He hated tosee his mother worried.
"Oh, mother," he said confidently, "there is no reason for you to beupset. If Bruno does anything to them, they are sure to give it back tohim in double measure. They'll do it in a sneaky way, because they areafraid of him in the o
pen field."
"Do you really think that this reassures me, Kurt?" she asked turningtowards him. Kurt now realized that his words could not exactly comforthis mother, but he felt that some help should be found, for he was alwaysable to discover such a good side to every evil, that the latter wasswallowed up. He saw an advantage now. "You know, mother, when Brunohas discharged his thunder, it is all over for good. Then he is like ascrubbed out gun-barrel, all clean and polished. Isn't that better thanif things would keep sticking there?"
Mea, standing at the open window, was beckoning to the approaching groupwith lively gestures; it meant that the time for supper was alreadyoverdue. Kurt, rushing to her side, informed her that their mother meantto tell them the story of Wallerstaetten as soon as everything was quietthat night and the little ones were put to bed: "Just mark now if wewon't hear about the ghost of Wallerstaetten," he remarked at the end.Kurt was mistaken, however. Everything was still and quiet long ago, thelittle ones were in bed and the last lessons were done. But Bruno hadnot yet returned. Over and over again the mother looked at the clock.
"You must not be afraid, mother, that they will have a quarrel, becausethe rector is with them," Kurt said consolingly.
Now rapid steps sounded outside, the door was violently flung open andBruno appeared, pale with rage: "Those two mean creatures, thosemalicious rascals; the sneaky hypocrites!--the--the--"
"Bruno, no more please," the mother interrupted. "You are besideyourself. Come sit down with us and tell us what happened as soon as youfeel more quiet; but no more such words, please."
It took a considerable time before Bruno could tell his experiencewithout breaking out again. He told them finally that the rector hadmentioned the castle of High Ems in their lessons that day. After askinghis pupils if they had ever inspected the famous ruins they had all saidno, so the rector invited the three big boys to join him in a walk to seethe castle. It was quite a distance away and they had examined the ruinsvery thoroughly. Afterwards the rector had taken them to a neighboringinn for a treat, so that it was dark already when they were walking downthe village street. "Just where the footpath, which comes from the largefarmhouse crosses the road," Bruno continued, "Loneli came running alongwith a full milk-bottle in her arm. That scoundrel Edwin quickly put outhis foot in front of her and Loneli fell down her whole length; the milkbottle flew far off and the milk poured down the road like a small whitestream. The boys nearly choked with laughter and all I was able to dowas to give Edwin a sound box on the ear," Bruno concluded, nearlyboiling with rage. "Such a coward! He ran right off after the Rector,who had gone ahead and had not seen it. Loneli went silently away,crying to herself. I'd like to have taken hold of both of them and giventhem proper--"
"Yes, and Loneli is sure to be scolded by her grandmother for havingspilled the milk," Mea interrupted; "she always thinks that Loneli iscareless and that it is always her own fault when somebody harms her.She is always punished for the slightest little fault."
"But she never defends herself," Kurt said, half in anger, partly withpity. "If those two ever tried to harm Clevi, they would soon get theirfaces scratched; Apollonie has brought Loneli up the wrong way."
"Should you like to see Loneli jump at a boy's face and scratch it,Kurt?" asked the mother.
After meditating a while Kurt replied, "I guess I really shouldn't."
"Don't you all like Loneli because she never gets rough and always isfriendly, obliging and cheerful? Her grandmother really loves her verymuch; but she is a very honest woman and worries about the child justbecause she is anxious to bring her up well. I should be extremely sorryif she scolded Loneli in the first excitement about the spilled milk.The boys should have gotten the blame, and I am sure that Apollonie willbe sorry if she hears later on what really happened."
"I'll quickly run over and tell her about it," Kurt suggested. Themother explained to him, however, that grandmother and grandchild wereprobably fast asleep by that time.
"Are we going to have the story of Castle Wildenstein for a finish now?"he inquired. But his mother had already risen, pointing to the wallclock, and Kurt saw that the usual time for going to bed had passed. Asthe following day was a Sunday, he was satisfied. They generally hadquiet evenings then and there would be no interruptions to the story.Bruno, too, had now calmed down. It had softened him that his mother hadfound the Knippel boys' behaviour contemptible and that she had notexcused them in the least. He might have told the Rector about it, butsuch accusations he despised. He felt quite appeased since his motherhad shared his indignation and knew about the matter. Soon the house laypeacefully slumbering under the fragrant apple trees. The golden moonabove was going her way and seemed to look down with friendly eyes, as ifshe was gratified that the house, which was filled all day with suchnoise and lively movement, was standing there so calm and peaceful.