Part 36 (2/2)
The exultant woman clasped him in a pa.s.sionate embrace: ”Yes, give yourself a prisoner to me, and trust your fate to my hands. I will be a gentle mistress to you--you, beloved slave, you shall not be _more_ mine than I am yours--that is, _wholly_ and _forever_.”
CHAPTER XVII.
FLYING FROM THE CROSS.
The burgomaster went to the office every morning at six o'clock, for the work to be accomplished during the day was very great and required an early beginning. Freyer usually arrived about seven to share the task with him. On Fridays, however, he often commenced his labor before the energetic burgomaster. It was on that day that the rush upon the ticket office began, and every one's hands were filled.
But to-day Freyer seemed to be in no hurry. It was after seven--he ought to have arrived long before. He had been absent yesterday, too.
The stranger must have taken complete possession of him. The burgomaster shook his head--Freyer's conduct since the countess'
arrival, had not pleased him. He had never neglected his duties to the community. And at the very time when the Pa.s.sion Play had attained unprecedented success. How could any one think of anything else--anything _personal_, especially the man who took the part of the Christ! There were heaps of orders lying piled before him, how could they be disposed of, if Freyer did not help.
This countess was a beautiful woman--and probably a fascinating one.
But to the burgomaster there was but _one_ beauty--that of the angel of his home. High above the turmoil of the crowd, in quiet, aristocratic seclusion, the lonely man sat at his desk in his bare, plain office.
But the angel of Ammergau visited him here; he leaned his weary head upon His breast, _His_ kiss rewarded his unselfish labor, _His_ radiance illumined the una.s.suming citizen. No house was so poor and insignificant that at this season the angel of Ammergau did not take up His abode within and shed upon it His own sanct.i.ty and dignity. But to him who was the personification of Ammergau, the man who was obliged to care for everything--watch over everything--bear the responsibility of everything, to him the angel brought the reward which men cannot give--the proud consciousness of what he was to his home in these toilsome days. But it was quite time that Freyer should come! The burgomaster rang his bell. The bailiff entered.
”Kleinhofer, see where Herr Freyer is--or the drawing-master. _One_ of them can surely be found.”
”Yes, Herr Burgomaster.” The man left the room.
The burgomaster leaned back in his chair to wait. His eyes rested a few seconds on one of Dore's pictures, Christ condemned by Pontius Pilate.
He involuntarily compared the engraving with the grouping on the stage.
”Ah, if we could do that! If living beings, with ma.s.sive bones and clumsy joints, would be as pliable as canvas and brushes!” he thought, sorrowfully. ”Wherever human beings are employed there must be defects and imperfections. Perfection, absolute beauty, exist only in the imagination! Yet ought not an inflexible stage manager, by following the lines of the work of art, to succeed in shaping even the rudest material into the artistic idea.”
”Much--much remains to be done,” said the singular stage manager in pitiless self-criticism, resting his head on his hand. ”When one thinks of what the Meininger company accomplishes! But of course they work with _artists_--I with natural talent! Then we are restricted in alloting the parts by dilettante traditional models--and, worst of all, by antiquated statutes and prejudices.” The vision of Josepha Freyer rose before him, he keenly felt the blow inflicted on the Pa.s.sion Play when the beautiful girl, the very type of Mary Magdalene, was excluded.
”The whole must suffer under such circ.u.mstances! The actors cannot be chosen according to talent and individuality; these things are a secondary consideration. The first is the person's standing in the community! A poor servant would be allowed to play only an inferior part, even if he possessed the greatest talent, and the princ.i.p.al ones are the monopoly of the influential citizens. From a contingent thus arbitrarily limited the manager is compelled to distribute the characters for the great work, which demands the highest powers. It is a gigantic labor, but it will be accomplished, nothing is needed save patience and an iron will! They will grow with their task. The increasing success of the Pa.s.sion Play will teach them to understand how important it is that artistic interests should supersede all others. Then golden hours will first dawn on Ammergau. May G.o.d permit me to witness it!” he added. And he confidently hoped to do so; for there was no lack of talent, and with a few additions great results might be accomplished. This year the success of the Play was secured by Freyer, who made the audience forget all less skilful performers. With him the Pa.s.sion Play of the present year would stand or fall. The burgomaster's eyes rested with a look of compa.s.sion upon the Christ of Dore and the Christ personated by Freyer, as it hovered before his memory--and Freyer bore the test. He had come from the hand of his Creator a living work of art, perfect in every detail. ”Thank Heaven that we have him!” murmured the burgomaster, with a nod of satisfaction.
Some one knocked at the door. ”At last,” said the burgomaster: ”Come in!”
It was not the person whom he expected, but Ludwig Gross!
He tottered forward as if his feet refused to obey his will. His grave face was waxen-yellow in its hue and deeply lined--his lips were tightly compressed--drops of perspiration glittered on his brow.
The burgomaster glanced at him in alarm: ”What is it? What has happened?”
Ludwig Gross drew a letter from his pocket, ”Be prepared for bad news.”
”For Heaven's sake, cannot the performance take place? We have sold more than a thousand tickets.”
”That would be the least difficulty. Be strong, Herr Burgomaster--I have a great misfortune to announce.”
”Has it anything to do with Freyer?” exclaimed the magistrate, with sudden foreboding.
”Freyer has gone--with Countess Wildenau!”
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