CHAPTER III
CASTLE WILDENSTEIN
When Maezli and Lippo were neatly washed and dressed the next morning,they came downstairs to the living-room chattering in the most livelymanner. Maezli was just telling Lippo her plans for the afternoon when heshould be back from school. The mother, after attending to some task,followed the children, who were standing around the piano.
As soon as she entered, Kurt broke out into a frightened cry. "Oh,mother, we have forgotten all about the poor people whose houses burntdown and we were supposed to take the things with us this morning."
"Yes, the teacher told us twice that we must not forget it," Lippocomplained, "but I didn't forget it."
"Don't worry, children, I have attended to it," said the mother. "Kathyhas just gone to the school with a basket full of things. It was tooheavy for you to carry."
"Oh, how nice and convenient it is to have a mother," Kurt said quiterelieved.
The mother sat down at the piano.
"Come, let us sing our morning song, now," she said. "We can't wait foruncle, because he might come back too late from his walk." Opening thebook, she began to sing "The golden sun--with joy and fun."
The children taking up the melody sang it briskly, for they knew it well.Maezli was singing full of zeal, too, and wherever she had forgotten thewords, she did not stop, but made up some of her own.
Two stanzas had been sung when Kurt said, "We must stop now or it willget too late. After breakfast it is time to go to school."
The mother, assenting, rose and went to the table to fill their cups.
But Lippo broke into a loud wail. Pulling his mother back, he cried,"Don't go! Please don't! We must finish it. We have to finish it. Comeback, mother, come back."
She tried to loosen the grip of the boy's firm little fingers on herdress and to calm him, but she did not succeed, and he kept on cryinglouder and louder: "Come back! You said one must not leave anything halfdone. We didn't finish the song and we must do it."
Kurt now began to cry out, too: "Let go your pincher-claws--we'll get toschool late."
Mea's voice joined them with loud exclamation against Lippo, who wastrying hard to pull his mother back, groaning loudly all the time.
Uncle Philip entered at this moment.
"What on earth is going on here?" he cried loudly into the confusion.
Everybody began to explain.
Lippo let go his grip at last and, approaching his uncle, solicited hishelp. Kurt's voice, however, was the loudest and he got the lead intelling about Lippo's obstinacy.
"Lippo is right," the uncle decided. "One must finish what one hasbegun. This is a splendid principle and ought to be followed. Lippo hasinherited this from his god-father and so he shall also have his help.Come Lippo, we'll sit down and finish the song to the last word."
"But, Uncle Philip, the song has twelve stanzas, and we have to go toschool. Lippo must go, too," Kurt cried out in great agitation. "Hecan't get an excuse for saying that he had to finish his morning song."
"That is true, Kurt is right," said the uncle. "You see, Lippo, I know away out. When you sing to-night, mother must promise me to finish thesong. Then you will have sung it to the end."
"We can't do that," Lippo wailed. "This is a morning song and we can'tsing it at night. We must finish it now. Wait, Kurt!" he cried aloud,when he saw that the boy was taking up his school-bag.
"What can we do? Where is your mother? Why does she run away at such amoment?" Uncle Philip cried out helplessly. "Call for your mother! Youmustn't go on like that."
Lippo had run back to the piano and, leaning against it, was cryingbitterly. Kurt, after opening the door, called loudly for his mother ina voice that was meant to bring her from a distance. This exertionproved unnecessary, as she was standing immediately behind the door.Bruno, in order to question her about something, had drawn her out withhim.
"Oh, mother, come in!" Kurt cried in milder accents. "Come and teach ourtwo-legged law-paragraph here to get some sense. School is going tostart in five minutes."
The mother entered.
"Maxa, where did you go?" the brother accosted her. "It is high time toget this boy straightened out. Just look at the way he is clutching thepiano in his trouble. He ought to be off. Kurt is right."
The mother, sitting down on the piano-stool, took the little boy's handand pulled him towards her.
"Come, Lippo, there is nothing to cry about," she said calmly. "Listenwhile I explain this. It is a splendid thing to finish anything one hasbegun, but there are things that cannot be finished all at once. Thenone divides these things into separate parts and finishes part first withthe resolution to do another part the next day, and so on till it isdone. We shall say now our song has twelve stanzas and we'll sing two ofthem every morning; in that way we can finish it on the sixth day and wehave not left it unfinished at all. Can you understand, Lippo? Are youquiet now?"
"Yes," said the little boy, looking up to his mother with an expressionof perfect satisfaction.
The leave-taking from the uncle had to be cut extremely short. "Comesoon again," sounded three times more from the steps, and then thechildren started off.
The mother, looking through the window, followed them with her eyes. Shewas afraid that Kurt and Mea would leave the little one far behind onaccount of having been kept too long already, and it happened as shefeared. She saw Lippo trudging on behind with an extraordinarily fullschool-bag on his back.
"Can you see what Lippo is carrying?" she asked her brother.
The lid of the bag was thrust open and a thick unwieldy object which didnot fit into it was protruding.
"What is he carrying along, I wonder? Can you see what it is?"
"I can only see a round object wrapped up in a gray paper," her brotherreplied. "I am sure it must be something harmless. I have to say thatLippo is a wonderfully obedient and good boy and full of the best sense.As soon as one says the right word to him, he comes 'round. Why did youwait so long though, Maxa, before saying it to him?" was Uncle Philip'srather reproachful question. "Why did you run away and leave him cryingand moaning? He needed your help. What he wanted was perfectly correctbut was not just suitable at that moment, and he needed an explanation.How could you calmly run away?"
"It was just as necessary to hear Bruno's question," the sister said. "Iknew that Lippo was in good hands. I thought naturally that you would beable to say the right word to him. You know yourself how he respectsyou."
"Oh, yes, that is right," Uncle Philip admitted. "It is not always easyto say the right word to a little fellow who has the right on his sideand needs to have the other side shown to him, too; he is terriblypedantic besides, and says that one can't sing a morning song in theevening, and when he began to wail in his helplessness, it made memiserable. How should one always just be able to say the right word?"
His sister smiled.
"Do you admit now, Philip, that bringing up children is not a very simplematter?"
"There is a truth in what you say. On the other hand, it does not lookvery terrible, either," the brother said with a glance at Maezli, who wasquietly and peacefully sitting at the table, eating her bread and milk inthe most orderly fashion.
She had been compelled to stop in the middle of breakfast by theexcitement caused by Lippo. It had been very thrilling, but now shecould calmly finish.
Uncle Philip suddenly discovered that the tune set for his departure wasalready past. Taking a rapid leave of his sister, he started to rushoff, but she held him for a moment.
"Please, Philip, try to find out for me about the little girl, to whomshe belongs, and with whom she is travelling," she begged him eagerly."Please do that for me! If your supposition, that she is Leonore's childis right, I simply must see her. Nobody can prevent me from seeing heronce at least."
"We'll see, we'll see," the brother answered hurriedly, and was gone thenext moment.
The day had started with so much agitation and it had all taken so muchtime that M
rs. Maxa had her hands full now in order to complete the mostnecessary tasks before the children came back from school.
Maezli was very obedient to-day and had settled down on her little chair.She was virtuously knitting on a white rag, which was to receive a brightred border and was destined to dust Uncle Philip's desk. It was to bepresented to him on his next birthday as a great surprise. Maezli had inher head this and many other thoughts caused by the morning's scene, soshe did not feel the same inclination to set out on trips of discovery asusual, and remained quietly sitting on her chair. Her mother wasextremely preoccupied, as could easily be seen. Her thoughts had nothingto do with either the laundry or the orders she was giving to Kathy, northe cooking apples she had sorted out in the cellar. Her hand often layimmovably on these, while she absently looked in front of her. Herthoughts were up in the castle-garden with the lovely young Leonore, andin her imagination she was wandering about with her beloved friend,singing and chattering under the sounding pine trees.
Her brother's news had wakened all these memories very vividly. Thenagain she would sigh deeply and another communication filled her full ofanxiety. Bruno had asked her not to wait for him at dinner, as he hadresolved to stop his comrades from a wicked design and therefore wouldsurely be a trifle late. What this was and what action he meant toprevent the boy had not had time to say, for Kurt had opened the door atthat moment calling for her with his voice of thunder. All she had beenable to do was to beg Bruno, whatever happened, not to let his angerbecome his master. Sooner than the mother had expected Kurt's stepscould be heard hurriedly running into the house followed by a loud callfor her.
"Here I am, Kurt," sounded calmly from the living-room, where his motherhad finally settled down after her tasks, beside Maezli's chair. "Come infirst before you try to make your announcements; or is it so dreadfullyurgent?"
Kurt had already reached his mother's side.
"Oh, mother, when I come home from school I'm never sure if you are inthe top or the bottom of the house," he said, "so I have to inquire inplenty of time, especially when there is so much to tell you as there isto-day. Now listen. First of all, the teacher thanks you for thepresents for the poor people. He lets you know that if you think itsuitable to send them a helmet of cardboard with a red plume, he will putit by for the present. Or did you have a special intention with it?"
"I do not understand a word of what you say, Kurt," the mother replied.
That moment Lippo opened the door. He was apt to come home after theolder boy, for Kurt was not obliged to wait for him after school.
"Here comes the one who will be able to explain the precious gift yousent, mother," said Kurt.
Lippo, trotting cheerfully into the room, had bright red cheeks from hiswalk. The mother began by asking, "Tell me, Lippo, did you takesomething to school this morning in your school-bag for the poor peoplewhose houses were burnt?"
"Yes, mother, my helmet from Uncle Philip," Lippo answered.
"I see! You thought that if a poor little chap had no shirt, he would beglad to get a fine helmet with a plume for his head," Kurt said laughing.
"You don't need to laugh!" Lippo said, a little hurt. "Mother told usthat we must not only send things we don't want any more. So I gave thehelmet away and I should have loved to keep it."
"Don't laugh at him, Kurt; I really told him that," the mother affirmed."He wanted to do right but he did not quite find the right way of doingit. If you had told me your intention, Lippo, I could have helped you todo some positive good. Next time you want to help, tell me about it, andwe'll do it together."
"Yes, I will," Lippo said, quite appeased.
"Oh, mother, listen!" Kurt was continuing. "I have to tell you somethingyou won't like and we don't like either. Just think! Loneli had to siton the shame-bench to-day. But all the class is on Loneli's side."
"But why, Kurt? The poor child!" the mother exclaimed. "What did she do?I am afraid that her honest old grandmother will take it terribly toheart. She'll be in deep sorrow about it and will probably punish Loneliagain."
"No, indeed, she must not do that," Kurt said eagerly. "The teacher saidhimself that he hated to put Loneli there, as she was a good and obedientchild, but that he had to keep his word. He had announced that he wastired of the constant chattering going on in the school. To stop it hehad threatened to put the first child on the shame-bench that was caught.So poor Loneli had to sit there all by herself and she cried so terriblythat we all felt sorry. But of course, mother, a person doesn't talkalone, and Loneli should not have been obliged to stay there alone. Theteacher had just asked: 'Who is talking over there? I can hear somewhispering. Who is it?' Loneli answered 'I' in a low voice, so she hadto be punished. One of her neighbors should have said 'I,' too, ofcourse; it was perfectly evident that there was another one."
"Loneli might have asked somebody a question which was not answered," hismother suggested.
"Mea will know all about it, for she followed Loneli after school. Nowmore still, mother," Kurt continued. "Two boys from my class were beatenthis morning by Mr. Trius. Early this morning they had climbed over thecastle hedge to inspect the apples on the other side of the hedge. ButMr. Trius was already about and stood suddenly before them with hisheavy stick. In a jiffy they had a real Trius-beating, for the hedge ishigh and firm and one can't get across it quickly. Now for my fourthpiece of news. Farmer Max who lives behind the castle has told everybodythat when his father came back late yesterday night from the cattle-fairin the valley, he saw a large coach, which was right behind his own,drive into the castle-garden. He was quite certain that it went there,but nobody seems to know who was in it. So you are really listening atlast, mother! I noticed that you have been absentminded till now.Farmer Max told us something else about his father that you wouldn't likeme to repeat, I know."
"You would not say so if it were not wrong; you had better not repeat it,Kurt," said the mother.
"No, indeed, it is not bad, but very strange. I can tell you though,because I don't believe it myself. Max told that his father said therewas something wrong about the coach and that he went far out of its way.The coachman looked as if he only had half a head, and his coat-collarwas rolled up terribly high in order to hide what was below. He waswildly beating the horses so that they fairly flew up the castle-hill,while sparks of fire were flying from their hoofs."
"How can you tell such rubbish, Kurt? How should there be somethingunnatural in such a sight?" the mother scolded him. "I am sure you thinkthat the Wildenstein ghost is wandering about again. You can see everyday that horses' hoofs give out sparks when they strike stone, and to seea coachman with a rolled up collar in windy weather is not an unusualsight either. In spite of all I say to you, Kurt, you seem to do nothingbut occupy yourself with this matter. Can't you let the foolish peopletalk without repeating it all the time?"
Kurt was very glad when Mea entered at that moment, for he had reallydisobeyed his mother's repeated instructions in the matter. But hecomforted himself with the thought that he was only acting according toher ideas if he was finally able to prove to the people that the wholething was a pure invention and could get rid of the whole thing for good.
"Why are your eyes all swollen?" he accosted his sister.
Mea exploded now. Half angry and half complaining, she still had tofight against her tears. "Oh, mother, if you only knew how difficult itis to stay friends with Elvira. Whenever I do anything to offend her,she sulks and won't have anything to do with me for days. When I want totell her something and run towards her, speaking a little hurriedly, sheis hurt. Then she always says I spoil the flowers on her hat because Ishake them. And then she turns her back on me and won't even speak tome."
"Indeed! I have seen that long ago," Kurt broke in, "and I began a songabout her yesterday. It ought to be sung to her. I'll recite it to you:
A SONG ABOUT A WELL KNOWN YOUNG LADY.
I know a maiden fair of face, Who mostly turns her back. All noise she thinks a great dis
grace, But tricks she does not lack.
"No, Kurt, you mustn't go on with that song," Mea cried with indignation.
"Mea is right when she doesn't want you to celebrate her friends in thatway, Kurt," said the mother, "and if she asks you to, you must leaveoff."
"But I am her brother and I do not wish to see my sister being tyranizedover and treated badly by a friend. I certainly wouldn't call her a realfriend," Kurt eagerly exclaimed. "I should be only too glad if my songmade her so angry that she would break the friendship entirely. Therewould be nothing to mourn over."
Mea, however, fought passionately for her friend and never gave way tillKurt had promised not to go on with his ditty. But her mother wanted toknow now what had given Mea such red eyes. So she told them that she hadfollowed Loneli in order to comfort her, for she was still crying.Loneli had told her then about being caught at chattering. Elvira, whowas Loneli's neighbor, had asked her if she would be allowed to go toSils on dedication day, next Sunday, and Loneli had answered no. ThenElvira wanted to know why not, to which Loneli had promised to give heran answer after school, as they were not allowed to talk in school. Thatmoment the teacher had questioned them and Loneli had promptly accusedherself.
"Don't you think, mother, that Elvira should have admitted that she askedLoneli a question? Then Loneli would not have had to sit on theshame-bench alone. He might have given them both a differentpunishment," Mea said, quite wrought up.
"Oho! Now she sent Loneli to the shame-bench besides, and Loneli is afriend of mine!" Kurt threw in. "Now she'll get more verses after all."
"Elvira should certainly have done so," the mother affirmed.
"Yes, and listen what happened afterwards," Mea continued with more ardorthan before. "I ran from Loneli to Elvira, but I was still able to hearpoor Loneli's sobs, for she was awfully afraid to go home. She knew thatshe had to tell her grandmother about it and she was sure that that wouldbring her a terrible punishment. When I met Elvira, I told her that itwas unfair of her not to accuse herself and to let Loneli bear thepunishment alone. That made her fearfully angry. She said that I was apleasant friend indeed, if I wished this punishment and shame upon her.She should not have said that, mother, should she? I told her that thematter was easy enough for her as it was all settled for her, but not forLoneli. I asked to tell the teacher how it all happened, so that hecould say something in school and let the children know what answerLoneli had given her. Then he would see that she was innocent. ButElvira only grew angrier still and told me that she would look foranother friend, if I chose to preach to her. She said that she didn'twant to have anything to do with me from now on and, turning about, ranaway."
"So much the better!" Kurt cried out. "Now you won't have to run humblyafter Elvira any more, as if you were always in the wrong, the way youusually do to win her precious favor."
"Why shouldn't Mea meet her friend kindly again if she wants to, Kurt?"said the mother. "Elvira knows well enough who has been offended thistime and has broken off the friendship. She will be only too glad whenMea meets her half-way."
Kurt was beginning another protest, but it was not heard. Lippo andMaezli arrived at that moment, loudly announcing the important news thatKathy was going to serve the soup in a moment and that the table was noteven set.
The mother had put off preparations for dinner on purpose. During theforegoing conversation she had repeatedly glanced towards the littlegarden gate to see if Bruno was not coming, but he could not be seen yet.So she began to set the table with Mea, while Lippo, too, assisted her.The little boy knew exactly where everything belonged. He put it therein the most orderly fashion, and when Mea put a fork or spoon downquickly a little crookedly, he straightway put them perfectly straightthe way they belonged.
Kurt laughed out loud, "Oh, Lippo, you must become an inn-keeper, thenall your tables will look as if they had been measured out with acompass."
"Leave Lippo alone," said the mother. "I wish you would all do yourlittle tasks as carefully as he does."
Dinner was over and the mother was looking out towards the road ingreater anxiety, but Bruno had not come.
"Now he comes with a big whip," Kurt shouted suddenly. "Something musthave happened, for one does not usually need a whip in school."
The younger boy opened the door, full of expectation. Bruno could nothelp noticing his mother's frightened expression, despite the rage he wasin, which plainly showed in his face.
He exclaimed, as he entered, "I'll tell you right away what happened,mother, so that you won't think it was still worse. I have only whippedthem both as they deserved, that is all."
"But, Bruno, that is bad enough. You seem to get more savage all thetime," the mother lamented. "How could you do such a thing?"
"I'll explain it right away and then you will have to admit that it wasthe only thing to do," Bruno assured her. "The two told me last Saturdaythat they had a scheme for to-day in which I was to join. They haddiscovered that the lovely plums in the Rector's garden were ripe andthey meant to steal them. When the Rector is through with his lessons attwelve o'clock he always goes to the front room and then nobody knew whatis going on in the garden. Their plan was to use this time to-day inorder to shake the tree and fill their pockets full of plums. I was tohelp them. I told them what a disgrace it was for them to ask me and Isaid that I would find means to prevent it. So they noisily called me atraitor and told me that accusing them was worse than stealing plums. Isaid that it wasn't my intention to tell on them, but I would come anduse my whip as soon as they touched the tree. So they laughed andsneered at me and said that they were neither afraid of me nor of mywhip. As soon as our lessons were done at twelve o'clock, they ran tothe garden and, getting the whip I had hidden in the hallway, I ran afterthem. Edwin was already half way up the tree and Eugene was justbeginning to climb it. First I only threatened and tried in that way toforce Edwin down and keep Eugene from going further. But they kept onsneering at me till Edwin had reached the first branch and was shaking itso hard that the lovely plums came spattering to the ground. I got sofurious at that that I began to beat first the boy higher up and then thelower one. First, Edwin tumbled down on top of Eugene and then they bothran away moaning, while I kept on striking them. They left the plums onthe ground and I followed them."
"It is terrible, Bruno, that such scenes have to come up between you allthe time," the mother lamented. "You are always the one who gets wildand loses control. It is hard to excuse that, even if your intention isgood, Bruno. I wish I could keep you boys apart."
"It was a good thing he became furious at them to-day, mother," Kurtremarked. "You see it shows that even two can't get the better of him.If he had not been so mad, the two would have been stronger, and our poorRector would have lost his plums."
It was hard to tell if this explanation comforted the mother. She hadgone out with a sign to attend to Bruno's belated lunch. The time wasalready near at hand when all the children had to get back to school.
When that same evening the little ones were happily playing and the bigchildren were busy with their school work, Kurt stole up to his mother'schair and asked her in a low voice, "Shall we have the story to-day?"
The mother nodded. "As soon as the little ones are in bed." At thisMaezli pricked up her ears.
When all the work was done in the evening, all the family usually playeda game together. Kurt, who was usually the first to pack up his papers,was still scribbling away after Mea had laid hers away. Looking over hisshoulder into the note-book, she exclaimed, "He is writing some versesagain! Who is the subject of your song, Kurt?"
"I'll read it to you, then you can guess yourself," said the boy. "Thefirst verse is already written somewhere else. Now listen to thesecond."
She stares about with stately mien: "O ho, just look at me! If I am not acknowledged queen, I surely ought to be."
Her friend agrees with patient air And fastens up her shoes. Then queenie thinks: That's only fair, She couldn't well refuse. r />
But if the friend should try to show The queen her faults, look out! She'd break the friendship at a blow And straightway turn about.
Mea had been obliged to laugh a little at first at the description of thehumble behaviour which did not seem to describe her very well. Finally,however, sad memories rose up in her.
"Do you know, mother," she cried out excitedly, "it is not the worst thatshe shows me her back, but that one can't ever agree with her. Everytime I find anything pleasant and good, she says the opposite, and when Isay that something is wrong and horrid, she won't be of my opinioneither. It is so hard to keep her friendship because we always seem toquarrel when I haven't the slightest desire to."
"Just let her go. She is the same as her brothers," said Bruno. "Inever want their friendship again, and I wish I might never have anythingmore to do with them."
"It is better to give them things, the way you did to-day," Kurtremarked.
"I can understand Mea," said the mother. "As soon as we came here shetried to get Elvira's friendship. She longs for friendship more than youdo."
"Oh, mother, I have six or eight friends here, that is not so bad," Kurtdeclared.
"I couldn't say much for any of them," Bruno said quickly.
"It must hurt Mea," the mother continued, "that Elvira does not seem tobe capable of friendship. You only act right in telling her what youconsider wrong, Mea. If you show your attachment to her and try not tobe hurt by little differences of opinion, your friendship might graduallyimprove."
As Lippo and Maezli felt that the time for the general game had come, theycame up to their mother to declare their wish. Soon everybody wasmerrily playing.
It happened to-day, as it did every day, that the clock pointed much toosoon to the time which meant the inexorable end of playing. This usuallyhappened when everybody was most eager and everything else was forgottenfor the moment. As soon as the clock struck, playing was discontinued,the evening song was sung and then followed the disappearance of the twolittle ones. While the older children put away the toys, the mother wentto the piano to choose the song they were to sing.
Maezli had quickly run after her. "Oh, please, mama, can I choose thesong to-day?" she asked eagerly.
"Certainly, tell me which song you would like to sing best."
Maezli seized the song-book effectively.
"But, Maezli, you can't even read," said the mother. "How would the bookhelp you? Tell me how the song begins, or what lines you know."
"I'll find it right away," Maezli asserted. "Just let me hunt a littlebit." With this she began to hunt with such zeal as if she were seekinga long-lost treasure.
"Here, here," she cried out very soon, while she handed the book proudlyover to her mother.
The latter took the book and read:
"Patience Oh Lord, is needed, When sorrow, grief and pain"--
"But, Maezli, why do you want to sing this song?" her mother asked.
Kurt had stepped up to them and looked over the mother's shoulder intothe book. "Oh, you sly little person! So you chose the longest song youcould find. You thought that Lippo would see to it that we would singevery syllable before going to bed."
"Yes, and you hate to go to bed much more than I do," said Maezli a littlerevengefully. It had filled her with wrath that her beautiful plan hadbeen seen through so quickly. "When you have to go, you always sigh asloud as yesterday and cry: 'Oh, what a shame! Oh, what a shame!' and youthink it is fearful."
"Quite right, cunning little Maezli," Kurt laughed.
"Come, come, children, now we'll sing instead of quarrelling," the motheradmonished them. "We'll sing 'The lovely moon is risen.' You know allthe words of that from beginning to end, Maezli."
They all started and finished the whole song in peace.
When the mother came back later on from the beds of the two youngerchildren, the three elder ones sat expectantly around the table, for Kurthad told them of their mother's promise to tell them the story of thefamily of Wallerstaetten that evening. They had already placed theirmother's knitting-basket on the table in preparation of what was to come,because they knew that she would not tell them a story without knittingat the same time.
Smilingly the mother approached. "Everything is ready, I see, so I canbegin right away."
"Yes, and right from the start, please; from the place where the ghostfirst comes in."
The mother looked questioningly at Kurt. "It seems to me, Kurt, that youstill hope to find out about this ghost, whatever I may say to thecontrary. I shall tell you, though, how people first began to talk abouta ghost in Wildenstein. The origin of these rumors goes back many, manyyears."
"There is a picture in the castle," the mother began to relate, "which Ioften looked at as a child and which made a deep impression upon me. Itrepresents a pilgrim who wanders restlessly about far countries, despitehis snow-white hair, which is blowing about his head, and despite hislooking old and weather-beaten. It is supposed to be the picture of theancestor of the family of Wallerstaetten. The family name is thought tohave been different at that time.
"This ancestor is said to have been a man extremely susceptible toviolent outbreaks. In his passion he was supposed to have committed manyevil deeds, on account of which his poor wife could not console herself.Praying for him, she lay whole days on her knees in the chapel. She diedsuddenly, however, and this shocked the baron so mightily that he couldnot remain in the castle. In order to find peace for his restless soulhe became a repentant pilgrim. So he took the emblem of a pilgrim intohis coat of arms and called himself Wallerstaetten. Leaving his estateand his sons, he nevermore returned.
"Later on two of his descendants lived in the castle. Both were wellloved and respected, because they did a great deal to have the landcultivated for a long distance around and as a result all the farmersbecame rich. But both had inherited the violent temper of theirancestor, and the truth is that there always were members in the familywith that fatal characteristic. Nobody knew what happened between thebrothers, but one morning one of them was found dead on the floor of thebig fencing-hall. All that the castle guard knew about it was that histwo masters had settled a dispute with a duel. The other brother hadimmediately disappeared, but was brought back dead to the castle a fewdays afterwards.
"Climbing up a high mountain, he had fallen down a precipice and had beenfound dead. These events threw all the neighborhood into greatconsternation.
"That is when the rumors first spread that the restless spirit of thebrother murderer was seen wandering about the castle. All this happenedmany years before my father and your grandfather moved into Nolla asRector. The rumor had somewhat faded then and all that we children heardabout it was that my father was very positive in denying all such reportsthat reached his ears. Your grandfather was the closest friend of themaster of Wallerstaetten, whom everybody called the Baron. I can onlyremember seeing him once for a moment, but he made an unusual impressionupon me. I remember him very vividly as a very tall man going with rapidsteps through the courtyard and mounting a horse, which was trying torear. He died before I was five years old, and I have often heard myfather say to my mother that it was a great misfortune for the two sonsto have lost their father. I felt so sorry for them that I would oftenstop in the middle of play to ask her, 'Oh, mother, can nobody helpthem?' To comfort me she would tell me that God alone could help. For along time I prayed every night before going to sleep: 'Dear God, pleasehelp them in their trouble!' Both were always very kind and friendly withme. I was up at the castle a great deal, because the BaronessMaximiliana of Wallerstaetten was my godmother. My father instructed thetwo sons and acted as helper and adviser to the Baroness in many things.He went up to her every morning, holding me by one hand and Philip by theother. My brother had lessons together with the boys, who were one yearapart in age, while Philip was just between them. Bruno, the elder--"
"I was named after him, mother, wasn't I?" Bruno interrupted here.
"Salo was a year younger
--"
"I was called after him," Mea said quickly. "You wanted a Salo so muchand, as I was a girl, you called me Malomea, didn't you?"
The mother nodded.
"And I was called after father," Kurt cried out, in order to prove thathis name also had a worthy origin.
"I went up to the castle because my godmother wished it. She would haveloved to have a little daughter herself, therefore she occupied herselfwith me as if I belonged to her. She taught me to embroider and to doother fine handwork. Whenever she went with me into the garden andthrough the estate, she taught me all about the trees and flowers. I wasoften allowed to pick the violets that grew in great abundance beneaththe hedges and in the grass at the border of the little woods. Oh, whatbeautiful days those were! Soon they were to become more perfect stillfor us.
"But I received an impression in those days which remained in my heartfor a long while like a menacing power, often frightening me so that Iwas very unhappy. Once my father came down very silently from thecastle. When my mother asked him if anything had happened he replied,and I still hear his words 'Young Bruno has inherited his ancestor'sdreadful passion. His mother is naturally more worried about this thanabout anything else.'"
"Look at him," Kurt said dryly, glancing at Bruno, who was sitting besidehis mother. For answer Bruno's eyes flashed threateningly at hisbrother.
"Oh, please go on, mother," Mea urged. She was in no mood to have thetale interrupted by a fight between her brothers.
"It seemed terrible to me," the mother continued again, "that Bruno, mygenerous, kind friend, should have anything in his character to worry hismother. Often I cried quietly in a corner about it and wondered how sucha thing could be. I had to admit it myself, however. Whenever the threeboys had a disagreement or anybody did something to displease Bruno, hewould get quite beside himself with rage, acting in a way which he musthave been sorry for later on. I have to repeat again, though, that hehad at bottom a noble and generous nature and would never have willinglyharmed anyone or committed a cruel deed. But one could see that hisoutbreaks of passion might drive him to desperate deeds.
"Salo, his brother, never became angry, but he had a very unyieldingnature just the same. He was just as obstinate in his way as hisbrother, and never gave in. Philip was always on his side, for the twowere the best of friends. Bruno was much more reserved and taciturn thanSalo, who was naturally very gay and could sing and laugh so that thehalls would re-echo loudly with his merriment. The Baroness herselfoften laughed in that way, too. That is why Bruno imagined that sheloved her younger son better than him, and because he himself loved hismother passionately, he could not endure this thought. It was not true,however. She loved his eldest boy passionately and everybody who wasclose to her could see it.
"When I was ten years old and Philip fifteen, an unusually charming girlwas added to our little circle. I above everybody else was enchantedwith her. Our friends at the castle and even Philip, who certainly wasnot easily filled with enthusiasm, were extremely enthusiastic about ournew playmate. She was a girl of eleven years old, you see just a yearolder than I was. She was far, far above me, though, in knowledge,ability, and especially in her manners and whole behaviour, so that I wasperfectly carried away by her charm.
"Her name was Leonore. She was related to the baroness and had come downfrom the far north, in fact from Holstein, where my godmother came fromand all her connections lived. Leonore, the daughter of one of herrelations, had very early lost her father and mother, as her mother haddied soon after the Baroness decided to adopt the child. She knew thatLeonore would otherwise be all alone in the world, and she hoped that agentle sister would have an extremely beneficial influence on the twoself-willed brothers. Now a time began for me which was more wonderfulthan anything I could ever have imagined. Leonore was to continue herstudies, of course, and take up new ones. For that purpose a veryrefined German lady came to the castle very soon after Leonore's arrival.Only years afterwards I realized what a splendid teacher she had been.
"My godmother had arranged for me to share the studies with Leonore, andtherefore I was to live all day at the castle as her companion, onlyreturning in the evenings. So we two girls spent all our time together,and in bad weather I also remained there for the night. Leonore had atremendous influence on me, and I am glad to say an influence for mygood, for I was able to look up to her in everything. Whatever wascommon or low was absolutely foreign to her noble nature. This closecompanionship with her was not only the greatest enjoyment of my youngyears, but was the greatest of benefits for my whole life."
"You certainly were lucky, mother," Mea exclaimed passionately.
"Yes, and Uncle Philip was lucky, too, to have two such nice friends,"Bruno added.
"I realize that," the mother answered. "You have no idea, children, howoften I have wished that you, too, could have such friends."
"Please go on," Kurt begged impatiently. "Where did they go, mother?Doesn't anyone know what has become of them?"
"Whenever our brothers, as we called them, were free," the mothercontinued, "they were our beloved playmates. We valued their stimulatingcompany very much and were always happy when through some chance theywere exempt from some of their numerous lessons. They always asked us tojoin them in their games and we were very happy that they wanted ourcompany. Baroness von Wallerstaetten had guessed right. Since Leonorehad come into our midst, the brothers fought much more seldom, andeverybody who knew Bruno well could see that he tried to suppress hisoutbursts of rage in her presence. Once Leonore had become pale withfright when she had been obliged to witness such a scene, and Bruno hadnot forgotten it. Four years had passed for us in cloudless sunshinewhen a great change took place. The young barons left the castle inorder to attend a university in Germany, and Philip also left for anagricultural school. So we only saw the brothers once a year, duringtheir brief holidays in the summer. Those days were great feast daysthen for all of us, and we enjoyed every single hour of their stay fromearly morning till late at night. We always began and ended every daywith music, and frequently whole days were spent in the enjoyment of it.
"Both young Wallerstaettens were extremely musical and had splendidvoices, and Leonore's exquisite singing stirred everybody deeply. TheBaroness always said that Leonore's voice brought the tears to her eyes,no matter if she sang merry or serious songs. It affected me in thatway, too, and one could never grow weary of hearing her. I had justfinished my seventeenth and Leonore her eighteenth year when a summercame which was to bring grave changes. We did not expect Philip home forthe holidays. Through the Baroness' help he was already filling the postof manager of an estate in the far north. The young barons had alsocompleted their studies and were expected to come home and to consultwith their mother about their plans for the future. She fully expectedthem to travel before settling down, and after that she hoped sincerelythat one of them would come to live at home with her; this would meanthat he would take the care of the estate on his shoulders with itstroubles and responsibilities. Soon after their arrival the sons seemedto have had an interview with their mother which clearly worried her, forshe went about silently, refusing to answer any questions. Bruno strodeup and down the terrace with flaming eyes whole hours at a time, withoutsaying a word. Salo was the only sociable one left, and sometimes hewould come and sit down beside us; but if we questioned him about theirapparent feud, he remained silent. How different this was from ourformer gay days! But this painful situation did not last long. On thefifth or sixth day after their arrival the brothers did not appear forbreakfast. The Baroness immediately inquired in great anxiety if theyhad left the castle, but nobody seemed to have noticed them. Apolloniewas the only one who had seen them going upstairs together in the earlymorning, so she was sent up to look for them in the tower rooms. Whenshe found them empty, she opened the door of the old fencing-hall by somestrange impulse. Here Salo was crouching half fainting on the floor. Hetold her that it was nothing to worry about, and that he had only lostconsciousness for a m
oment. She had to help him to get up, however, andhe came downstairs supported on her arm. The Baroness never said a word.She stayed in her son's chamber till the physician who had been sent forhad gone away again. Then returning to us, she sat down beside Leonoreand me and told us that we ought to know what had happened. Apparentlyshe was very calm, but I had never seen her face so pale. She informedus that when she had spoken to her sons about their future plans, she haddiscovered that neither of them had ever spoken about it to the other.Now they both declared to her that their full intention had been foryears to come home after the completion of their studies and to live inWildenstein with her and Leonore. Bruno was quite beside himself when hefound that Salo had apparently no intention to yield to him in thematter, so he challenged his brother to a duel in order to decide whichof them was to remain at home. Salo had been wounded and, losingconsciousness, had fallen to the ground. Bruno, fearing something worse,had disappeared. The doctor had not found Sale's wounds of a seriousnature, but as he had a delicate constitution, great care had to betaken. When I left the castle that day I felt that all the joy andhappiness I had ever known on earth was shattered, and this feelingstayed with me a long while after. Soon after that sad event theBaroness got ready for a journey to the south, where she meant to go withSalo and Leonore. Salo had not recovered as quickly as she had hoped,and Leonore, instead of getting more robust in our vigorous mountain-air,only became thinner and frailer. Only once Bruno sent his mother somenews. In extremely few words he let her know that he was going to Spain,and that she need not trouble more about him. But the news of hisbrother's survival reached him, nevertheless. Now all those I had lovedso passionately had gone away, and I felt it very deeply. There thecastle stood, sad and lifeless, and its lighted windows looked down nomore upon us from the height. All its eyes were closed and were toremain so."
"Oh, oh, did they never come back?" cried out Kurt with regret.
"No, never," the mother replied. "At that time, too, apparently, all thereports which had long ago faded were revived as to a ghost who wassupposed to wander about the castle. There were many who asserted theyhad seen or heard him, and till to-day the ghost of Wildenstein ishaunting people's heads."
"Look at him," said Bruno dryly, pointing to the lower end of the tablewhere Kurt was sitting.
"Finish, please, mother," the latter quickly urged. "Where did they allget to? And where is the brother who disappeared?"
"All I still have to tell you is short and sad," said the mother."Leonore faithfully wrote to me. After spending the first winter in thesouth it became apparent that the Baroness's health was shattered. Sherefused to return to the castle and sent her instructions to Apollonie,who had married the gardener of Wildenstein, and who now with her husbandbecame caretaker of the castle, Three years afterwards the Baroness diedwithout ever having returned. A short time after that Leonore becameSalo's wife, but they were not fated to remain together long. Not morethan three years later Salo died of a violent fever and Leonore followedhim in a few months, but they left a little boy and a little girl. AfterSalo's death Leonore was left alone in life, so an aunt from Holsteincame to live with her in Nice. After Leonore's death this aunt took thetwo children home with her. I heard this from Apollonie, who had beensent Leonore's last instructions by this aunt. I never learned anythingfurther about the two children, and only once did I receive word fromBaron Bruno through Apollonie. Your late father, young Rector Bergmann,had married me just about the time when we heard of the Baroness's death.I followed him very gladly to Sils, because Philip had just bought anestate there and was very anxious to have me close to him. One dayApollonie came to me in great agitation. Baron Bruno, never once sendingword, had arrived in the castle after an absence of eight years and hadbrought with him a companion by the name of Mr. Demetrius. The Baronhad naturally expected to find his mother, his brother and his erstwhileplaymates gathered there as before. When he heard from Apollonieeverything that had happened in his absence, he broke into a violentpassion, because he believed that the news had been purposely kept fromhim. Apollonie was able to show him his late mother's letters where shehad given her exact orders in case of his return. He could also see fromthem that she wrote to him frequently and had tried to reach him in vain.Baron Bruno had lived an extremely unsettled existence and all theletters had miscarried, despite the orders he had left in big cities tohave them forwarded. Full of anger and bitterness the Baron immediatelyleft, and till the present hour he has not been heard of. Mr.Demetrius, later on called Mr. Trius by everybody, came back a few yearsago to the deserted castle. Apollonie had meanwhile lost her husband,had closed up all the rooms at the castle, and had gone to live again inthe former gardener's cottage, where she is living now. From the timewhen he reappeared till to-day, Mr. Trius has led a solitary life andsees no one except Apollonie, and her only when he is in need of her.However hard Apollonie tried to make him tell about his master, he wouldnot do it. You know now about my happy life in Wildenstein and will beable to understand the reason why I moved here again after the death ofyour father. Another inducement was that our dear Rector, an erstwhilefriend of my father's, promised to give Bruno instruction which he couldnot get at a country school, so that I was able to keep him at homelonger, you see. Now you know why the deserted castle attracts me sodespite its sad aspect, for it brings back to me my most beautifulmemories."
"Oh, please, mother, tell us a little more," Kurt begged eagerly, whenhis mother rose.
"Oh, mother," Mea joined in, "tell us more about your friend, Leonore."
"Oh, yes, tell us more, mother," Bruno supplicated. "There must be moreto know still. Did Baron Bruno keep on travelling in Spain?"
"I think most of the time, but I can't tell you for sure," the motherreplied. "I know everything only from Apollonie, who had these reportsfrom Mr. Trius, but he either does not choose to talk or does not knowvery much himself about his master. I have told you everything now andyou must go to bed as quickly as you can. It was your bedtime long ago."
No questions or supplications helped now, and soon the house was silent,except for the mother's quiet steps as she once more visited thechildren's beds. Her eldest, who could become so violent, lay before herwith a peaceful expression on his clear brow. She knew how high hisstandard of honor was, but how would he end if his unfortunate traitgained more ascendancy over him? Soon she would be obliged to send himaway, and how could she hope for a loving influence in strangesurroundings, which was the only thing to quiet him? The mother knew thatshe had not the power to keep her children from pain and sin, but sheknew the hand which leads and steadies all children that are entrusted toit, that can guard and save where no mother's hand or love can avail.She went with folded hands from one bed to the other, surrendering herchildren to their Father's protection in Heaven. He knew best how muchthey were in need of His loving care.