Part 56 (1/2)
”I don't know,” said Brasig. ”I am wholly unacquainted with his affairs, since I don't trouble myself about secrets. Hear to the end, says Kotelmann, to-morrow we shall know.”
”But this Gottlieb, this quiet man!” exclaimed Frau Nussler.
”The Pietists are not wholly to be trusted,” said Brasig. ”Never trust a Jesuit!”
”Brasig!” cried Frau Nussler, and the old chair shrieked aloud, as she sprang up, ”if there is something concealed here, I shall take back my child. If Rudolph had done it, I could have forgiven him, for he is a rough colt, and there is no secrecy about him; but Gottlieb? No, never in my life! One who can set himself up for a saint, and then do such a trick--don't come near me! I want nothing to do with such people!”
And when Gottlieb came to the table that evening, his future mother-in-law looked at him askance, as if she were a shop clerk, and he were trying to cheat her with a bad groschen. And when he asked Lining, after supper, if she would take a gla.s.s of fresh water up to his room, she told him Lining had something else to do, and when Gottlieb turned to Marik, the waiting-maid, she told him he might go to the pump himself, he could do it as well as Marik. And so she speedily drew a magic circle around him, over which no woman might pa.s.s.
As they sat at table next morning, Krischan came to the door, and beckoned to Frau Nussler; ”Madam, Oh, just a word.” And Frau Nussler motioned to Brasig, and the two old lovers went out with Krischan into the hall.
”Here it is,” said Krischan, pulling out a great letter, from his waistcoat pocket, ”and I know the name of the woman, too.”
”Well?” asked Frau Nussler.
”Yes,” whispered Krischan privately into Frau Nussler's ear. ”Mine is her own name, and Sterium is her father's name.”
”What? Is her name Mine Sterium?”
”Hoho!” cried Brasig, s.n.a.t.c.hing the letter from Frau Nussler's hand, ”that comes from ignorance of outlandish names, that is the vocation of the Ministerium,” and he opened the door, and shouted into room: ”Hurrah! You old Pietist, you! Here it is, and next week is the wedding!”
And Frau Nussler fell upon old Gottlieb's neck, and kissed him, and cried, ”Gottlieb, my dear Gottlieb, I have done you a great wrong: never mind, Gottlieb, Lining shall take up water for you, every evening, and the wedding shall be whenever you please.”
”But what is it?” asked Gottlieb.
”No, Gottlieb, I cannot tell you yet; it is too shameful, but when you have been married three years, I will tell you all about it.”
The wedding was celebrated, and a great deal might be told about it, how Mining and her sister Lining wept bitterly after the ceremony, how Gottlieb looked really handsome, since Lining had cut off the long locks, like rusty wheel-nails, out of his neck. But I will tell nothing about this wedding, but what I saw myself, and that was, the next morning, at half-past three, the two old friends young Jochen and young Bauschan, lying on the sofa, arm in arm, asleep.
Habermann was at the wedding, very silent, his Louise was there also, her inmost heart full of love for her little Lining, but she was also silent, quietly happy; Frau Pastorin had declined her invitation, but when the guests were crowding about the bride and bridegroom, and Jochen, afterwards, was trying to say a word also, the door opened, and the Frau Pastorin came in, in her widow's mourning, into the bright marriage joy, and she threw her arms around Lining's neck saying:
”I bless you, I bless you from my heart, and may you be as happy there as I have been. You are now the nearest to him.” and she kissed and caressed her, and then turned quickly away, and went, without greeting any one, to the door; there she said, ”Habermann!”
But she need not have spoken, for he stood by her already, and when she was in the carriage, he sat by her side, and they drove back to Gurlitz.
At Gurlitz, they got out of the carriage, the pastor's coachman, Jurn, must wait,--and went to the churchyard, and they held each other by the hand, and looked at the green grave, on which bright flowers were growing, and as they turned away, she said with a deep, deep sigh, as when one has drained a full cup, ”Habermann, I am ready,” and he placed her in the carriage, and drove with her to Rahnstadt.
”Louise is discreet,” she said, ”she took charge of everything for me, this morning.”
They went together through the new house, and the little Frau Pastorin thanked him, and kissed him, for his friends.h.i.+p, that he had arranged everything just as it was in Gurlitz, and she looked out of the window, and said, ”Everything, everything, but no grave!”
They stood for a long time at the window, then Habermann pressed her hand, and said, ”Frau Pastorin, I have a favor to ask, I have given notice to Herr von Rambow, and shall leave next Christmas; can you spare me the little gable room, and will you take me at your table?”
At a less agitated moment, she would have had much to ask, and much to say; but now she said merely.
”Where Louise and I live, you are always the nearest.”
Yes, so it is in the world, what is one's joy is another's sorrow, and weddings and graves lie close together, and yet the distance between them is wider than between summer heat and winter cold; but there is a wonderful kind of people in the world,--if one seeks one can find them,--who can throw a kind of wonderful, heaven-climbing bridges, from one heart to another, over the gulfs which the world has torn open, and such a bridge was built between the little, round Pastors' wives, Lining of Rexow, and Frau Pastorin of Rahnstadt; and when the key stone was dropped into place, exactly over the parsonage at Gurlitz, they fell into each other's arms, and held so fast together that to their life's end they were never parted.
And our old Gottlieb! He did his share, he brought stones and mortar,--he had but a brief experience in the pastoral office; but I must say that, when he preached his entrance sermon, he thought less of himself than of his faithful predecessor, the old Pastor Behrens.