The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 7

“If you will have the papers drawn, you may even burthen the purchase with your interest,” said Otto. “Let it be assured to you through life.”

“Your friend, sir,” insinuated Killian, “would not, perhaps, care to make the interest reversible? Fritz is a good lad.”

“Fritz is young,” said the Prince drily; “he must earn consideration, not inherit.”

“He has long worked upon the place, sir,” insisted Mr. Gottesheim; “and at my great age, for I am seventy-eight come harvest, it would be a troublesome thought to the proprietor how to fill my shoes. It would be a care spared to assure yourself of Fritz. And I believe he might be tempted by a permanency.”

“The young man has unsettled views,” returned Otto.

“Possibly the purchaser – ” began Killian.

A little spot of anger burned in Otto’s cheek. “I am the purchaser,” he said.

“It was what I might have guessed,” replied the farmer, bowing with an aged, obsequious dignity. “You have made an old man very happy; and I may say, indeed, that I have entertained an angel unawares. Sir, the great people of this world – and by that I mean those who are great in station – if they had only hearts like yours, how they would make the fires burn and the poor sing!”

“I would not judge them hardly, sir,” said Otto. “We all have our frailties.”

“Truly, sir,” said Mr. Gottesheim, with unction. “And by what name, sir, am I to address my generous landlord?”

The double recollection of an English traveller, whom he had received the week before at court, and of an old English rogue called Transome, whom he had known in youth, came pertinently to the Prince’s help. “Transome,” he answered, “is my name. I am an English traveller. It is, to-day, Tuesday. On Thursday, before noon, the money shall be ready. Let us meet, if you please, in Mittwalden, at the ‘Morning Star.’”

“I am, in all things lawful, your servant to command,” replied the farmer. “An Englishman! You are a great race of travellers. And has your lordship some experience of land?”

“I have had some interest of the kind before,” returned the Prince; “not in Gerolstein, indeed. But fortune, as you say, turns the wheel, and I desire to be beforehand with her revolutions.”

“Very right, sir, I am sure,” said Mr. Killian.

They had been strolling with deliberation; but they were now drawing near to the farmhouse, mounting by the trellised pathway to the level of the meadow. A little before them the sound of voices had been some while audible, and now grew louder and more distinct with every step of their advance. Presently, when they emerged upon the top of the bank, they beheld Fritz and Ottilia some way off; he, very black and bloodshot, emphasising his hoarse speech with the smacking of his fist against his palm; she, standing a little way off in blowsy, voluble distress.

“Dear me!” said Mr. Gottesheim, and made as if he would turn aside.

But Otto went straight towards the lovers, in whose dissension he believed himself to have a share. And, indeed, as soon as he had seen the Prince, Fritz had stood tragic, as if awaiting and defying his approach.

“O, here you are!” he cried, as soon as they were near enough for easy speech. “You are a man at least, and must reply. What were you after? Why were you two skulking in the bush? God!” he broke out, turning again upon Ottilia, “to think that I should waste my heart on you!”

“I beg your pardon,” Otto cut in. “You were addressing me. In virtue of what circumstance am I to render you an account of this young lady’s conduct? Are you her father? her brother? her husband?”

“O, sir, you know as well as I,” returned the peasant. “We keep company, she and I. I love her, and she is by way of loving me; but all shall be above-board, I would have her to know. I have a good pride of my own.”

“Why, I perceive I must explain to you what love is,” said Otto. “Its measure is kindness. It is very possible that you are proud; but she, too, may have some self-esteem; I do not speak for myself. And perhaps, if your own doings were so curiously examined, you might find it inconvenient to reply.”

“These are all set-offs,” said the young man. “You know very well that a man is a man, and a woman only a woman. That holds good all over, up and down. I ask you a question, I ask it again, and here I stand.” He drew a mark and toed it.

“When you have studied liberal doctrines somewhat deeper,” said the Prince, “you will perhaps change your note. You are a man of false weights and measures, my young friend. You have one scale for women, another for men; one for princes, and one for farmer-folk. On the prince who neglects his wife you can be most severe. But what of the lover who insults his mistress? You use the name of love. I should think this lady might very fairly ask to be delivered from love of such a nature. For if I, a stranger, had been one-tenth part so gross and so discourteous, you would most righteously have broke my head. It would have been in your part, as lover, to protect her from such insolence. Protect her first, then, from yourself.”

“Ay,” quoth Mr. Gottesheim, who had been looking on with his hands behind his tall old back, “ay, that’s Scripture truth.”

Fritz was staggered, not only by the Prince’s imperturbable superiority of manner, but by a glimmering consciousness that he himself was in the wrong. The appeal to liberal doctrines had, besides, unmanned him.

“Well,” said he, “if I was rude, I’ll own to it. I meant no ill, and did nothing out of my just rights; but I am above all these old vulgar notions too; and if I spoke sharp, I’ll ask her pardon.”

“Freely granted, Fritz,” said Ottilia.

“But all this doesn’t answer me,” cried Fritz. “I ask what you two spoke about. She says she promised not to tell; well, then, I mean to know. Civility is civility; but I’ll be no man’s gull. I have a right to common justice, if I do keep company!”

“If you will ask Mr. Gottesheim,” replied Otto, “you will find I have not spent my hours in idleness. I have, since I arose this morning, agreed to buy the farm. So far I will go to satisfy a curiosity which I condemn.”

“O, well, if there was business, that’s another matter,” returned Fritz. “Though it beats me why you could not tell. But, of course, if the gentleman is to buy the farm, I suppose there would naturally be an end.”

“To be sure,” said Mr. Gottesheim, with a strong accent of conviction.

But Ottilia was much braver. “There now!” she cried in triumph. “What did I tell you? I told you I was fighting your battles. Now you see! Think shame of your suspicious temper! You should go down upon your bended knees both to that gentleman and me.”

CHAPTER IV

IN WHICH THE PRINCE COLLECTS OPINIONS BY THE WAY

A little before noon, Otto, by a triumph of manœuvring, effected his escape. He was quit in this way of the ponderous gratitude of Mr. Killian, and of the confidential gratitude of poor Ottilia; but of Fritz he was not quit so readily. That young politician, brimming with mysterious glances, offered to lend his convoy as far as to the high-road; and Otto, in fear of some residuary jealousy, and for the girl’s sake, had not the courage to gainsay him; but he regarded his companion with uneasy glances, and devoutly wished the business at an end. For some time Fritz walked by the mare in silence; and they had already traversed more than half the proposed distance when, with something of a blush, he looked up and opened fire.

“Are you not,” he asked, “what they call a socialist?”

“Why, no,” returned Otto, “not precisely what they call so. Why do you ask?”

“I will tell you why,” said the young man. “I saw from the first that you were a red progressional, and nothing but the fear of old Killian kept you back. And there, sir, you were right: old men are always cowards. But nowadays, you see, there are so many groups: you can never tell how far the likeliest kind of man may be prepared to go; and I was never sure you were one of the strong thinkers, till you hinted about women and free love.”

“Indeed,” cried Otto, “I never said a word of such a thing.”

“Not you!” cried Fritz. “Never a word to compromise! You was sowing seed: ground-bait, our president calls it. But it’s hard to deceive me, for I know all the agitators and their ways, and all the doctrines; and between you and me,” lowering his voice, “I am myself affiliated. O yes, I am a secret society man, and here is my medal.” And drawing out a green ribbon that he wore about his neck, he held up, for Otto’s inspection, a pewter medal bearing the imprint of a Phoenix and the legend Libertas. “And so now you see you may trust me,” added Fritz. “I am none of your alehouse talkers; I am a convinced revolutionary.” And he looked meltingly upon Otto.

“I see,” replied the Prince; “that is very gratifying. Well, sir, the great thing for the good of one’s country is, first of all, to be a good man. All springs from there. For my part, although you are right in thinking that I have to do with politics, I am unfit by intellect and temper for a leading rôle. I was intended, I fear, for a subaltern. Yet we have all something to command, Mr. Fritz, if it be only our own temper; and a man about to marry must look closely to himself. The husband’s, like the prince’s, is a very artificial standing; and it is hard to be kind in either. Do you follow that?”

“O yes, I follow that,” replied the young man, sadly chop-fallen over the nature of the information he had elicited; and then brightening up: “Is it,” he ventured, “is it for an arsenal that you have bought the farm?”

“We’ll see about that,” the Prince answered, laughing. “You must not be too zealous. And in the meantime, if I were you, I would say nothing on the subject.”

“O, trust me, sir, for that,” cried Fritz, as he pocketed a crown. “And you’ve let nothing out; for I suspected – I might say I knew it – from the first. And mind you, when a guide is required,” he added, “I know all the forest paths.”

Otto rode away, chuckling. This talk with Fritz had vastly entertained him; nor was he altogether discontented with his bearing at the farm; men, he was able to tell himself, had behaved worse under smaller provocation. And, to harmonise all, the road and the April air were both delightful to his soul.

Up and down, and to and fro, ever mounting through the wooded foothills, the broad, white high-road wound onward into Grünewald. On either hand the pines stood coolly rooted – green moss prospering, springs welling forth between their knuckled spurs; and though some were broad and stalwart, and others spiry and slender, yet all stood firm in the same attitude and with the same expression, like a silent army presenting arms.

The road lay all the way apart from towns and villages, which it left on either hand. Here and there, indeed, in the bottom of green glens, the Prince could spy a few congregated roofs, or perhaps above him, on a shoulder, the solitary cabin of a woodman. But the highway was an international undertaking, and with its face set for distant cities, scorned the little life of Grünewald. Hence it was exceeding solitary. Near the frontier Otto met a detachment of his own troops marching in the hot dust; and he was recognised and somewhat feebly cheered as he rode by. But from that time forth and for a long while he was alone with the great woods.

Gradually the spell of pleasure relaxed; his own thoughts returned, like stinging insects, in a cloud; and the talk of the night before, like a shower of buffets, fell upon his memory. He looked east and west for any comforter; and presently he was aware of a cross-road coming steeply down hill, and a horseman cautiously descending. A human voice or presence, like a spring in the desert, was now welcome in itself, and Otto drew bridle to await the coming of this stranger. He proved to be a very red-faced, thick-lipped countryman, with a pair of fat saddle-bags and a stone bottle at his waist; who, as soon as the Prince hailed him, jovially, if somewhat thickly, answered. At the same time he gave a beery yaw in the saddle. It was clear his bottle was no longer full.

“Do you ride towards Mittwalden?” asked the Prince.

“As far as the cross-road to Tannenbrunn,” the man replied. “Will you bear company?”