A Noble Name; or, Dönninghausen. Claire von Glümer
last – I had been riding perhaps an hour – I reached a small plateau shaded by oaks; across my way ran a rude fence, the gate in which my clever Leo opened, and soon after a peaked roof, with a smoking chimney, appeared among some hemlocks. As I approached, the horns nailed above the door told that it was a forester's lodge, and I was greeted by the loud barking of five or six dogs, – the only living creatures to be seen.
"I alighted, fastened Elinor's bridle to a tree, and, opening the door, entered – followed by the noisy pack, which Leo haughtily disdained to notice – a hall, around which were several doors. I knocked at the right-hand one of these, – no answer; at the left, where I heard voices, and instantly the door was opened. An elderly woman, with an air of distress, appeared, and in the background of the long, dim apartment there stood, by a curtained bed, a figure which seemed familiar to me. 'Johann Leopold!' I exclaimed involuntarily; and I was not mistaken: he whom I addressed turned and came quickly towards me.
"'Johanna, what brings you here?' he cried, with a certain confusion of manner; and when I replied that I had lost my way, he begged the woman to take me to her sitting-room, promising to join me in a few moments.
"She conducted me to the opposite room; hurriedly offered me some refreshment; begged pardon for leaving me alone, since she must assist the gentleman with his patient, and vanished.
"I could not but see that my arrival here had been inopportune, and I was just pondering whether I had not better make good my retreat without waiting for Johann Leopold, when there arose a loud barking again, and a forester whom I had now and then met when with my grandfather passed the window.
"'Wife!' he called out, as he entered the house, and then I heard him ask what the deuce was the meaning of the Dönninghausen horse with the side-saddle, and whether the old lady had come. I could not hear the woman's reply, but the man declared in a harsh tone that he had had enough of secrets; the fellow must leave the house to-day, for no one could expect him to risk his daily bread for the sake of such a good-for-nothing. He must leave immediately.
"'Fritz! Fritz! it may be his death, and he is my brother!' the woman wailed. The man cut short her words with an oath; but Johann Leopold's voice was now heard telling him to be quiet, and all three came into the room together, – the woman with her apron at her eyes, the man with gloomy looks, and Johann Leopold with an air of energy that surprised me.
"'Dear Johanna,' he said, as the forester bowed sullenly, 'chance has here made you acquainted with circumstances which must be withheld from our grandfather. You surely will promise me and these worthy people to say nothing of what you have seen, will you not?'
"'With all my heart,' I replied.
"The forester shrugged his shoulders. 'A young lady's promise – ' he began.
"'Kruger, remember to whom you are speaking,' Johann Leopold interrupted him authoritatively. 'My cousin's promise is as my own. I am going now to saddle my horse, and meanwhile you will explain the matter to her.'
"With these words he left the room, and the woman followed him. The forester gave him an angry look and then turned to me.
"'There's not much to explain,' he said, crossly. 'Red Jakob, my wife's brother, is a good-for-nothing fellow, a brawler and a poacher, whom our old master – Jakob used to be a servant at the castle – dismissed from his service. But he is always coming back here from Brunswick, where he had work in a saw-mill. Early last Sunday I caught him in the very act of aiming at a fine doe. I shouted to him. He made a leap over the rocks to get off; fell, his gun went off, and a bullet pierced his arm. What was I to do? I had to get him up here; but if the master should hear of it the fellow would be sent to jail, and I never could outlive the disgrace.'
"The man's blunt manner pleased me.
"'Grandpapa certainly shall not hear of it from me, forester,' I said, and offered him my hand. He looked at me in surprise, reddened, and took my hand, grasping it so tightly that I could hardly help crying out. 'Thanks, Fräulein,' he said, simply, and, as Johann Leopold now made his appearance with his horse, we left the lodge.
"While the forester helped me mount my horse, Johann Leopold addressed him again in an arrogant tone: 'Remember, Kruger, that I positively forbid the man to be moved. Until he is recovered he stays here as my patient. Everything that he needs is to be charged to me.'
"The forester's wife broke out into protestations of gratitude, her husband muttered some unintelligible words, and we rode off.
"When Johann Leopold learned my errand, he offered to guide me by a road over the mountain to the clearing, and we agreed to tell grandpapa that we had met, but to say nothing further. Johann Leopold told me that 'Red Jakob' had been his most cherished playmate when they were boys. No one could approach him in the knowledge of the woods and fields. He knew every plant, every stone, and every animal of the country; the habits of the game, the holes of the foxes, and the nests of the birds.
"'He was a born Nimrod,' he added, 'and would have made a far better lord of Dönninghausen than I shall ever be; but in the sphere of life to which he belongs his tastes and talents are a stumbling block to him.'
"I asked him whether he did not think that a place could be found in the world for every kind of talent. He shook his head. 'There may be a place,' he replied, 'but occupied by some one who does not feel himself authorized to resign it. Take me for an example. No one knows better than I how unfit I am to be the heir of Dönninghausen. My capabilities and my inclination lead me to the study, or to the bedside of the sick. Nevertheless I cannot decide to resign my position, and when an inferior opposes me, as the forester did awhile ago, my hot blood, or my acquired arrogance, asserts the mastery, and I should like to put the fellow in irons. And yet I am theoretically convinced of the equal rights of mankind.'
"This conversation gave me food for reflection. I wonder whether Johann Leopold acquiesces in a marriage with Magelone, from an idea of the requirements of his rank, or whether, under apparent indifference, he does not really feel an interest in the enchanting siren. As I have been mistaken with respect to his outward life, I may also be in appreciation of his mind and heart. For example, during our ride I learned that instead of leading the owlish existence which Magelone ascribes to him, he is the physician of the poor for miles around the country, providing them himself with all the needed medicaments. My grandfather must know nothing of this; he would call it all quackery, and would consider it an insult offered to worthy old Dr. Francke, who has been the physician at Dönninghausen for the last thirty years.
"As for myself, I get on very well with grandpapa. I was rather uncertain as to how he would receive the intelligence that I had sent off Martin and undertaken the forest ride alone, but he was pleased and praised me. 'That's right, child; never delay where help is needed, is my maxim.' Nevertheless, he is usually, as he says himself, apt to be cross. To be tied to his room and to his arm-chair by gout at Christmas-time, when all the family assemble here, is a hard trial for an impatient temperament. Aunt Thekla says we must look for stormy times."
"December 23.
"I have not been able to write for the last few days, but this letter must go to-day, that you may have it for a Christmas-greeting. Day before yesterday the cousins arrived with husbands and belongings, – Hildegard, with two children; Hedwig, with three, beside nurses and lady's-maids. Both mothers look like Aunt Thekla, – tall, slender, fair, and rather stately. They have rosy cheeks, abundant hair, and bright light-blue eyes, are vain of their looks, of their husbands and children, of their name and social position, and mutually endeavour to outshine each other in the splendour of their attire. With Magelone they wage a very amusing petty warfare. Their husbands, twin-brothers, are strikingly alike, – fair and stately like their wives, but better-natured, gayer, more at their ease. Eduard, Hedwig's husband, distinguished himself in the Schleswig-Holstein war, whence come his stiffened arm and several orders, – a crève-cœur, as Magelone maintains, for Hildegard, whose Karl has only won peaceful laurels as an orator at agricultural meetings. To-morrow afternoon the brothers of the sisters are coming. The festival takes place in the evening.
"Grandpapa is unfortunately still obliged to be pushed from one room to another in his wheeled chair. His great-grand-children must be with him as much as possible, and when