O. T., A Danish Romance

“Thou couldst easily give me a little before thou settest off on thy journey!” said Sidsel, who seemed excited by Heinrich’s words, and put forth her painted face.

Otto glanced at her with contracted eyebrows.

“Yes,” said she, “I say ‘thou’ to thee: thou must accustom thyself to that! A sister may have, however, that little bit of pleasure!”

“Yes, you should give her your hand!” said Heinrich, and laughed.

“Wretch!” exclaimed Otto, “she is not that which you say! I will find out my real sister! I will have proof in hand of the truth! I will show myself as a brother; I will care for her future! Bring to me her baptismal register; bring to me one only attestation of its reality—and that before eight days are past! Here is my address, it is the envelope of a letter; inclose in it the testimonial which I require, and send it to me without delay. But prove it, or you are a greater villain than I took you for.”

“Let us say a few rational words!” said Heinrich, with a constrained, fawning voice. “If you will give to me fifty rix-dollars, then you shall never have any more annoyance with us! See, that would be a great deal more convenient.”

“I abide by that which I have said!” answered Otto; “we will not have any more conversation together!” And so saying, he turned him round to go out.

Heinrich seized him by the coat.

“What do you want?” inquired Otto.

“I mean,” said Heinrich, “whether you are not going to think about the fifty rix-dollars?”

“Villain!” cried Otto, and, with the veins swelling in his forehead, he thrust Heinrich from him with such force, that he fell against the worm eaten door which led into the garden; the panel of the door fell out, and had not Heinrich seized fast hold on some firm object with both his hands, he must have gone the same way. Otto stood for a moment silent, with flashing eyes, and threw the envelope, on which his address was, at Heinrich’s feet, and went out.

When Otto returned to the hotel, he found the horses ready to be put to the carriage.

“Have you had good intelligence?” whispered Louise.

“I have in reality obtained no more than I had before!” replied he; “only my own feelings more strongly convince me than ever that I have been deceived by him.”

He related to her the short conversation which had taken place.

The Kammerjunker’s carriage was now also brought out; in this was more than sufficient room for two, whereas in the other carriage they had been crowded. The Kammerjunker, therefore, besought that they would avail themselves of the more convenient seat which he could offer; and Otto saw Sophie and her mother enter the Kammerjunker’s carriage. This arrangement would shortly before have confounded Otto, now it had much less effect upon him. His mind was so much occupied by his visit to German Heinrich, his soul was filled with a bitterness, which for the moment repelled the impulse which he had felt to express his great love for Sophie.

“I have been made Heinrich’s plaything—his tool!” thought he. “Now he ridicules me, and I am compelled to bear it! That horrible being is not my sister!—she cannot be so!”

The street was now quiet. They mounted into the carriage. In the corner house just opposite there was a great company; light streamed through the long curtains, a low tenor voice and a high ringing soprano mingled together in Mozart’s “Audiam, audiam, mio bene.”

“The bird may not flutter from my heart!” sighed Otto, and seated himself by the side of Louise. The carriage rolled away.

The full moon shone; the wild spiraea sent forth its odor from the road side; steam ascended from the moor-lands; and the white mist floated over the meadows like the daughters of the elfin king.

Louise sat silent and embarrassed; trouble weighed down her heart. Otto was also silent.

The Kammerjunker drove in first, cracked his whip, and struck up a wild halloo.

Wilhelm began to sing, “Charming the summer night,” and the Kammerjunker joined in with him.

“Sing with us man,” cried Wilhelm to the silent Otto, and quickly the two companies were one singing caravan.

It was late when they reached the hall.

CHAPTER XLI

“Destiny often pulls off leaves, as we treat the vine, that its fruits may be earlier brought to maturity.”—JEAN PAUL.

It was not until toward morning that Otto fell into sleep. Wilhelm and he were allowed to take their own time in rising, and thus it was late in the day before these two gentlemen made their appearance at the breakfast-table; the Kammerjunker was already come over to the hall, and now was more adorned than common.

“Mr. Thostrup shall be one of the initiated!” said the mother. “It will be time enough this evening for strangers to know of it. The Kammerjunker and my Sophie are betrothed.”

“See, it was in the bright moonlight, Mr. Thostrup, that I became such a happy man!” said the Kammerjunker, and kissed the tips of Sophie’s fingers. He offered his other hand to Otto.

Otto’s countenance remained unchanged, a smile played upon his lips. “I congratulate you!” said he; “it is indeed a joyful day! If I were a poet, I would give you an ode!”

Louise looked at him with an extraordinary expression of pain in her countenance.

Wilhelm called the Kammerjunker brother-in-law, and smiling shook both his hands.

Otto was unusually gay, jested, and laughed. The ladies went to their toilet, Otto into the garden.

He had been so convinced in his own mind that Sophie returned his passion. With what pleasure had she listened to him! with what an expression had her eye rested upon him! Her little jests had been to him such convincing proofs that the hope which he nourished was no self-delusion. She was the light around which his thoughts had circled. Love to her was to him a good angel, which sung to him consolation and life’s gladness in his dark moments.

Now, all was suddenly over. It was as if the angel had left him; the flame of love which had so entirely filled his soul, was in a moment extinguished to its last spark. Sophie was become a stranger to him; her intellectual eye, which smiled in love on the Kammerjunker, seemed to him the soulless eye of the automaton. A stupefying indifference went through him, deadly as poison that is infused into the human blood.

“The vain girl! she thought to make herself more important by repelling from her a faithful heart! She should only see how changed her image is in my soul. All the weaknesses which my love for her made me pass over, now step forth with repulsive features! Not a word which she spoke fell to the ground. The diamond has lost its lustre; I feel only its sharp corners!”

Sophie had given the preference to a man who, in respect of intellect, stood far below Otto! Sophie, who seemed to be enthusiastic for art and beauty, for everything glorious in the kingdom of mind, could thus have deceived him!

We will now see the sisters in their chamber.

Louise seemed pensive, she sat silently looking before her.

Sophie stood thoughtfully with a smile upon her lips.

“The Kammerjunker is very handsome, however!” exclaimed she: “he looks so manly!”

“You ought to find him love-worthy!” said Louise.

“Yes,” replied her sister, “I have always admired these strong countenances! He is an Axel—a northern blackbearded savage. Faces such as Wilhelm’s look like ladies’! And he is so good! He has said, that immediately after our marriage we shall make a tour to Hamburg. What dress do you think I should wear?”

“When you make the journey to Hamburg?” inquired Louise.

“O no, child! to-day I mean. Thostrup was indeed very polite! he congratulated me! I felt, however, rather curious when it was told to him. I had quite expected a scene! I was almost ready to beg of you to tell him first of all. He ought to have been prepared. But he was, however, very rational! I should not have expected it from him. I really wish him all good, but he is an extraordinary character! so melancholy! Do you think that he will take my betrothal to heart? I noticed that when I was kissed he turned himself suddenly round to the window and played with the flowers. I wish that he would soon go! The journey into foreign countries will do him good—there he will soon forget his heart’s troubles. To-morrow I will write to Cousin Joachim; he will also be surprised!”

Late in the afternoon came Jakoba, the Mamsell, the preacher, and yet a few other guests.

In the evening the table was arranged festively. The betrothed sat together, and Otto had the place of honor—he sat on the other side of Sophie. The preacher had written a song to the tune of “Be thou our social guardian-goddess;” this was sung. Otto’s voice sounded beautifully and strong; he rang his glass with the betrothed pair, and the Kammerjunker said that now Mr. Thostrup must speedily seek out a bride for himself.

“She is found,” answered Otto; “but now that is yet a secret.”

“Health to the bride!” said Sophie, and rung her glass; but soon again her intellectual eye rested upon the Kammerjunker, who was talking about asparagus and stall-feeding with clover, yet her glance brought him back again to the happiness of his love.