The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 08. Коллектив авторов
kind Heaven!" cried Barefoot; "how happy a child of such a house must be!"
"Are you envious?" said the farmer's wife; and then remembering that she was showing all these things to a poor girl, she added: "But believe me, fine clothes are not all; there are many happier who do not get as much as a stocking from their parents."
"Yes, yes, I know that. I am not envious of the beautiful things, but rather of the privilege that it gives your child to thank you and so many good people for the lovely things she has received from them. Such clothes from one's mother must keep one doubly warm."
The farmer's wife showed her fondness of Barefoot by accompanying the girl as far as the yard, as she would have done to a visitor who had eight horses in the stable.
There was already a great crowd of people assembled when Amrei arrived at the dancing-floor. At first she stood timidly on the threshold. In the empty courtyard, across which somebody hurried every now and then, a solitary gendarme was pacing up and down. When he saw Amrei coming along with a radiant face, he approached her and said:
"Good morning, Amrei! Art thou here too?"
Amrei started and turned quite pale. Had she done anything punishable? Had she gone into the stable with a naked light? She thought of her past life and could remember nothing; and yet he had addressed her as familiarly as if he had already arrested her once. With these thoughts flitting through her mind, she stood there trembling as if she were a criminal, and at last answered:
"Thank you. But I don't know why we should call each other 'thou.' Do you want anything of me?"
"Oh, how proud you are. You can answer me properly. I am not going to eat you up. Why are you so angry? Eh?"
"I am not angry, and I don't want to harm any one. I am only a foolish girl."
"Don't pretend to be so submissive—"
"How do you know what I am?"
"Because you flourish about so with that light."
"What? Where? Where have I flourished about with a light? I always take a lantern when I go out to the stable, but—"
The gendarme laughed and said: "I mean your brown eyes—that's where the light is. Your eyes are like two balls of fire."
"Then get out of my way, lest you get burnt. You might get blown up with all that powder in your cartridge-box."
"There's nothing in it," said the gendarme, embarrassed, but wishing to make some kind of retort. "But you have scorched me already."
"I don't see where—you seem to be all right. But enough! Let me go."
"I'm not keeping you, you little crib-biter. You could lead a man a hard life, who was fond of you."
"Nobody need be fond of me," said Amrei; and she rushed away as if she had got loose from a chain.
She stood in the doorway where many spectators were crowded together. A new dance was just beginning, and she swayed back and forth with the music. The feeling that she had got the better of some one made her more cheerful than ever, and she would have taken up arms against the whole world, as well as against a single gendarme. But her tormentor soon appeared again; he posted himself behind Amrei and said all kinds of things to her. She made no answer and pretended not to hear him, every now and then nodding to the people as they danced by, as if she had been greeted by them. Only when the gendarme said:
"If I were allowed to marry, I'd take you."
She replied:
"Take me, indeed! But I shouldn't give myself!"
The gendarme was glad to have at least got an answer from her, and continued:
"And if I were allowed to dance, I would have one with you right now."
"I cannot dance," replied Amrei.
Just then the music ceased. Amrei pushed against the people in front of her, and made her way in to seek some retired corner. She heard some one behind her say:
"Why, she can dance better than anybody in this part of the country!"
CHAPTER X
ONLY A SINGLE DANCE
Down from the musicians' platform Crappy Zachy handed a glass to Amrei.
She took a sip, and handed it back; and Crappy Zachy said:
"If you dance, Amrei, I'll play all my instruments so that the angels will come down from the sky and join in."
"Yes, but unless an angel comes down from the sky and asks me, I shall not get a partner," said Amrei, half in fun and half in sorrow. And then she began to wonder why there had to be a gendarme at a dance; but she did not hold to this thought long, but immediately went on to say to herself: "After all, he is a man like anybody else, even though he has a sword on; and before he became a gendarme, he was a lad like the rest. It must be a plague for him that he can't dance. But what's that to me? I, too, am obliged to be a mere spectator, and I don't get any money for it."
For a short time things went on in a much more quiet and moderate manner in the dancing-room. For the "English woman," as Agy, the wife of Severin, the building contractor, was still called, had come to the dance with her children. The rich wood-merchants set the champagne corks to popping and offered a glass to the English woman; she drank the health of the young couple and then made each one happy by a gracious word. A constant and complacent smile was lighting up the face of everybody. Agy honored many a young fellow who drank to her from the garlanded glasses, by sipping from hers in return. The old women, who sat near Barefoot, were loud in their praises of the English woman, and stood up a long time before she came when they saw her approaching to speak a few words to them. When Agy had gone away, the rejoicing, singing, dancing, stamping, and shouting broke out again with renewed vigor.
Farmer Rodel's foreman now came toward Amrei, and she felt a thrill of expectation. But the foreman said:
"Here, Barefoot, take care of my pipe for me while I am dancing." And after that several young girls from her village also came; from one she received a jacket, from another a cap, or a neckerchief, or a door-key. She let them hand it all over to her, and stood there with an ever-increasing load as one dance followed another. All the time she smiled quietly to herself, but nobody came to ask her to dance. Now a waltz was being played, so smoothly that one could have swum to it. And then a wild and furious galop; hurrah! now they are all hopping and stamping and jumping and panting in supreme delight. And how their eyes glitter! The old women who are sitting in the corner where Amrei is standing, complain of the dust and heat; but still, they don't go home. Then—suddenly Amrei starts; her eyes are fixed upon a handsome young man who is walking proudly to and fro among the crowd. It is the rider who had met her that morning, and whom she had snubbed in such a pert way. All eyes are fastened upon him as he comes forward, his right hand behind him, and his left holding a silver-mounted pipe. His silver watch-chain bobs up and down, and how beautiful is his black velvet jacket, and his loose black velvet trousers, and his red waistcoat! But more beautiful still is his round head with its curly, brown hair. His brow is white as snow; but from the eyes down his face is sunburnt, and a light, full beard covers his chin and cheeks.
"That's a bonny fellow," said one of the old women.
"And what heavenly blue eyes he has!" added another; "they are at once so roguish and so kind."
"Where can he be from? He's not from this neighborhood," said a third.
And a fourth observed:
"I'll wager he's another suitor for Amrei."
Barefoot started. What did this mean? What was that she said? But she soon found out the meaning of it, for the first old lady resumed:
"Then I'm sorry for him; for the Butter Countess makes fools of all the men."
And so the Butter Countess's name was also Amrei.
The young stranger had passed through the room several times, turning his eyes from one side to the other. Then he suddenly stopped not far from Barefoot and beckoned to her. A hot flush overspread her face; she stood riveted to the spot and did not move a muscle.