Waldfried: A Novel. Auerbach Berthold

this sally, and, when it looked as if blows were about to fall, and the kreis-director approached and ordered them to desist, Rothfuss called out, "Herr Director, would you call that an insult? I said Herr Funk was an honest man. Is that an insult?"

      The officer succeeded in restoring order and we departed, taking Rothfuss with us.

      I had paid the full penalty of my acquaintance with Funk, but felt so much freer and purer than when I entered the banqueting room, that I did not regret what had occurred.

      Richard wanted to meet his train, and Joseph left for a point down the Rhine in order to close a contract for railroad ties. I went to the station with them, and when the train had left, I accepted the invitation of Rontheim, who had walked down to the railroad with us, and went home with him.

      CHAPTER XVII

      There are houses in which you never hear a loud word, not because of any previous agreement on the part of its inmates, but as a natural result of their character. He who enters there is at once affected, both in mood and in the tones of his voice, by his surroundings. Such is the peaceful household in which kind and gentle aspirations fill all hearts and where every one works faithfully in his own allotted sphere.

      I felt as if entering a new and strange phase of life when Rontheim ushered me into the richly carpeted and tastefully furnished drawing-room. I was cordially received by his wife, a graceful and charming woman, and his two beautiful and distinguished-looking daughters.

      Although in exile, as it were, the mother and the daughters had succeeded in creating a pure and lovely home, and had held aloof from the petty jealousies and small doings of the little town in which they were residing. Although they saw but little company, they exchanged visits with some of the so-called gentry. They had paid several visits to our village, and a friendly intimacy with my wife had been the result. She did not allow this, however, to induce her to visit the town more frequently than had been her wont. She carefully avoided excursions of any kind, from a fear that they might interrupt the quiet tenor of her life or render society a necessity.

      Rontheim's wife and daughters had been used to the life of a court, and even now acted as if with the morrow they might be recalled to court. When they accompanied the director, on his frequent official journeys, they would discover every spot in which there were natural beauties. Scenes that we had become indifferent to, through habit, or in which we saw nothing but the uses to which they might be put, had in their eyes quite a different meaning. They would spend whole days in the valleys where no one resorted but the harvesters, or on the mountains where they would meet no one but the foresters. They sketched and gathered flowers and mosses, and their tables and consoles were decorated with lovely wreaths of dried leaves and wild flowers. They would often assist the poor children who were gathering wild berries, and show them how to weave pretty baskets out of pine twigs. They were in frequent intercourse with our schoolmaster's wife, who was quite a botanist.

      The second daughter, who was interested in drawing, asked me about the new paintings in the Parliament House; and the elder daughter jokingly declared that it was a pity that one could never find out what had been played at the theatre until the day after the performance.

      I was forcibly impressed by the evident effort with which Herr Von Rontheim endeavored to suppress any sign of a consciousness of superior birth. He showed me a recently restored picture of one of his ancestors, who had been a comrade of Ulrich Von Hutten, and had distinguished himself during the Reformation. He intimated that although the noble families had built up the state, he cheerfully admitted that its preservation had fallen into other hands.

      His kind manner did not quite serve to veil a certain air of condescension.

      During the course of our rather desultory conversation, Madame Rontheim had rung for the servant, and had given her orders to him in a whisper, of which I heard the last words, "Please tell Herr Ernst to come in."

      The words startled me. Could she have meant my son?

      A few moments afterward, a bright-cheeked and erect-looking ensign entered the room, and saluted us in military fashion. I had forgotten that Rontheim's only son was also named Ernst, and I now recalled the fact of his being in my son-in-law's regiment. The ensign referred to the fact, and also told me that all of his comrades had regretted my son's leaving the army. His constant flow of spirits and fertility of invention, had won him the admiration of all of his companions.

      Madame Rontheim spoke of my daughter Bertha in the kindest terms, and praised the tact she had displayed in introducing a new element into their circle.

      The eldest daughter ventured to speak in disparagement of Bertha's friend, Annette, but the mother adroitly changed the subject, and began talking about Martella.

      As I felt that, in all probability, there had been all sorts of false tales in regard to Martella, I told them her story. When I ended, Madame Rontheim said to me, "In taking such a child of nature into a well-ordered and cultured home, you have pursued the very best plan. I feel assured that the result of your wife's quiet and sensible course will both surprise and delight you. Pray tell your wife that I have for some time intended to visit her, but have concluded to wait until it may be convenient to her and her charge to receive me."

      While seated with this charming circle at their tea-table-an institution which this family had introduced in our forest neighborhood-I had quite forgotten that Rothfuss was outside taking charge of the sleigh. But now I heard the loud crack of his whip, and bade my hosts a hasty farewell.

      When I got into the sleigh, Rothfuss said, "Madame, the baroness, has sent out a hot jug as a foot-warmer for you."

      On our way down the hill, Rothfuss walked at the side of the sleigh, and said to me, "She sent me some tea: it is by no means a cooling drink, but does not taste so bad after all; it warmed me thoroughly. Before I drank it, I felt as wet as a drenched goat. Ah, yes! One of your people of rank is worth more than seventy-seven of your stupid voters. In all of the crowd that we met to-day there were not a dozen people with whom I would care to drink a glass of wine."

      Rothfuss judged of all persons by their fitness as boon companions. He would drink gladly with this one, but would not care to drink with the next; and he would often say that there were some whose very company sours the wine they pay for.

      I felt sure that he had heard some one abusing me.

      When I left home in the morning, I felt as if supported by the consciousness of the respect and confidence of my fellow-citizens, but now-

      Suddenly the remarks of the kreis-director recurred to me.

      Had the confidence of one party been withdrawn from me, because it was suspected that the others were trying to lure me to their side? I have neither the desire nor the proper qualifications for a more exalted position in the service of the State.

      And what could Ernst's notion of emigrating have meant? "Who knows," thought I to myself, "what I may yet have to witness on the part of this son who is always flying the track?"

      The night was bitter cold; the snow which had melted during the day had frozen hard, and our sleigh creaked and rattled as we hurried along the road.

      CHAPTER XVIII

      I have always discouraged a belief in omens, and yet when I saw the strange cloud-forms that floated before the face of the moon that night, shadowy forebodings filled my soul. The ringing of the sleigh-bells was full of a strange melody, and, down in the valley, I could hear the raging of the torrent which seemed as if angered at the thought that the frost king would soon again bind it with his fetters.

      The sleigh halted at the saw-mill. When I looked up towards the house I saw that there was a light in the room.

      "What are you doing?" I asked Rothfuss.

      "I am taking the bells off, so that the mistress may not hear us."

      Although we had supposed that no one had noticed our coining, we heard soft steps advancing to meet us when we reached the house. Martella opened the door for us.

      I entered the room. It was nicely warmed and lighted. The meal which had been prepared for me was still on the table.

      Rothfuss drew off his